Hello there!

Welcome to my blog, brought into existence because I believe in the power of stories. I hope you'll find a few things you like here. Let me know what you think and leave me any verdict, suggestion, challenge or request you want.


Happy readings!
Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Faery, part II (epic fantasy novel excerpt)

Part 1: http://storiesinc.blogspot.com/2011/10/faery-part-i-epic-fantasy-novel-excerpt.html



II
“Wait, wait, little bird!”
She cried after it, but it kept speeding up. Not once taking her eyes of the curious birdie, she chased it across a meadow full of fragrant flowers. The little bonnet slid from her head and unleashed a wild abundance curls. Running and crawling through the field, her fancy black varnished shoes slipped off in the high grass and green smudges formed on her freshly-washed Sunday dress. Smeared with grass and dirt, the child ran as fast as her bare feet could carry her and reached for the creature. Finally, she managed to poke it with a fingertip and startled. It was so warm.

Faery, part I (epic fantasy novel excerpt)



On a Sunday stroll through the park, an exuberant young lass finds herself drawn into the Land of the Fairies.
In this world of magic, Macy is swept up in an epic quest that will determine the fates of the fairy world as well as her own.
On this journey, she and her friends will have to pass numerous tests and discover as well as surpass their own limits in order to literally save the day.


Tuesday, 29 March 2011

Macy and the fairies, a bedtime story for children

Hey guys!

How is life? Enjoying spring? I am :)

This is actually the novel I was working on when I joined Blogger, but my skills weren't/aren't enough to complete it. It is set in what I now believe is the Western Kingdom, counterpart of the Eastern Kingdom where my cycle about the three brothers was set (It's in the story list for those who don't know it and got curious ;)). Anyway, it was always my intention to make a short story version for children out of the first chapters and I did. I actually finished it hoping I could give it to Matthew Funk, who has an awesome fundraising project to help the survivors of the Japanese indescribable catastrophe; fairytales for Japan, but I haven't heard back from him and I'm not very patient with not publishing something finished. It's a vice, I know, can't help it.

The story is suitable for all ages, but targeted at children, so I'd appreciate any feedback on whether or not you'd tell this to your (future) children, so I can mend it where needed. I hope to post it on another blog - still in progress - for kids.

And sorry if I'm being terribly slow to respond lately, it's been awfully busy. I really need a break... (from life, so I can finally get my stuff finished and catch up on things that are important).


So, enjoy!


Thursday, 24 March 2011

The Witch of Dreiden, a magic realist short story

Author’s note: some of you may already know this story – I posted it quite some time ago on HubPages, so I’ll probably get sanctioned for double-publishing – but despite having posted a link in the list page, there wasn’t too much inter-traffic between this blog and my hubs account, so I’ll post the story here as well for all of you to read. Especially since it’s been so long since I’ve posted something non-poetic (though I did write a lot… Don’t ask, it’s complicated). This is a clear example of what I (and other people?) call ‘21st century romanticism’, which I really love and feel at home in. Anyways, I digress yet again; enjoy ;).



The Witch of Dreiden


She was never in a hurry, but always on the move. They’d see her darting across the streets of Dreiden. She does not linger and she never speaks. It made them wonder.
Dressed in an ankle-long moss green gown. Never was she seen in anything else, come rain or shine. As if she stepped out of a long forgotten fairytale and is not aware.
Her face hidden in the hood of a dim greyish cloak, held together with a pin in which those brave enough to go near her, mean to recognise the emblem of the Pagan Trinity.
From time to time, mostly at dusk, she was spotted bobbing through the village holding a bunch of white flowers, which later turned up somewhere in the graveyard, yet it was certain she had no ancestors among our dead.
No one had ever seen her eat, or drink, or sleep and not a soul knew where her house was. If she lived in one. A few believe she lives in a cave, like a dragon. All that could be said, was that she dwelled the woods. That was as far as they had managed to track her, before she disappeared.
Her name was unknown. Some said it was Mary, others called her Beth, at least one believed it to be Lilith. She would respond to either one with a complacent nod.
She was very beautiful, in a mystifying way, and of a disposition so dreamy, it was almost childlike. Chestnut brown hair she had, waist-long and thick as a carpet, and the deep, gleaming eyes of a wolf. She was rumoured able to see in the dark and reported running with packs. Several drifters went as far as to assert having seen her fly through the air.
Her smile was, to say the least, mysterious, her gaze hypnotic. It led young men of the village astray, luring them into the woods at night and into the swamps. Some say the witch had killed them. Their bodies were found occasionally, mutilated to such a degree that it was certain the witch had fed on them, our sons.
She is known to the oldest and wisest of the women, respectable and virtuous from the first to the last, as a bringer of catastrophes. Floods were her specialty.
Wanderers claim that at nights of the full moon, they can hear her voice resound through the forest, that she’d be singing. On such nights, she would bathe in the river, causing the water to rise. And surely, heavy rains would fall.
Whenever showers threatened to make the streams of the valley overflow, the old wives would bring baskets of bread, cake and honey to the edge of the forest, peace-making gifts for some offence on the part of the village.
No one was ever seen collecting them, but the next day, all would be emptied. Naturally, afterwards, the rain would stop.
It was a generally held notion among the elders that whomever spoke ill of her, would die in the course of a month – it was proven many times among their fellows – and so would those sacrilegers who dared hunt inside her woods. When scorned by an individual, a basket would no longer suffice to save the poor soul. She’d smite him with sickness and calamity.
Despite having never uttered a word, she was known to be fickle. She held the pass to the nearest city, the great Danbourg, and those who did not pay her toll, would return no more. Nor would some who did.
As to what she was exactly, opinions were divided. She was called a demon, a vampire, a succubus but the majority held her for a witch. It was often discussed at council meeting if they shouldn’t dispose of her – like had been done before in other towns –but in the end, they dared not. It was especially the question of her possible immortality that made the leaders afraid to push a decision that would incite her wrath against the village. All were anxious. Surely, she was one who lived untouched by time. If they failed to kill her, her vengeance would be eternal.
Never did her appearance alter. It was said, over pints in the cafe or muffled in church, that the fathers of grandfathers had claimed to have seen a strange young woman from the forest, even in their own time. The stories were passed on through the generations and were remembered clear as daylight. More culturally developed among us, swore to discern her silhouette in ancient paintings. She must not  have aged a day. It could not possibly be otherwise.
Whatever she was, the girl was devilish.
Something had to be done. It was decided. For their children. The annual bonfire of San Marc was coming up. This year, they would personally invite her – for the first time in village history – and keep all foreigners at bay. Poke the flames up higher.
It was decided. They would never talk of it again.

Monday, 7 March 2011

The Awakening of the Beast, a neo-mythological epic-apocalyptic poem

This one is a bit difficult for me to categorize. None of the labels given really fits completely with what I have in mind. It's all at once and neither at the same time. Name it after whichever layer you prefer (I'll gladly take suggestions, feel like I forgot a few labels, labelling is a loathed part of internet writing, isn't it?).

This one was written at the same time as 'Phoenix' and finished minutes before. Guess that makes them twins, lol. Anyway, it was just a day after (possibly the same day, memories go hazy that quickly) the elegiac set, when I was still pretty sick and pumped up on stuff to get through classes. So yeah, again, I blame the pain killers. I suppose it is a bit weird.


For insiders (aka residents of The Coffee Shop), I could've called this poem 'an ode on the Rise of the Cult of Mass'. That would make him 'The Beast'. He doesn't visit here, so there's a pretty good chance he's never going to find out and I'll get away with it ;-).
Without further ado... (btw, the song was one of the inspirations. So were my much adored Romantics. And a bunch of other stuff, but I won't keep boring you with endless lists.)



The Awakening of the Beast

A magical cry
splits the tiresome sky
yonder, it howls with thunder
puts the wildest seas asunder
setting mighty Heavens aflame,
the ground from which it came
shall shake and quake.
The beast will reign, shed
smouldering ash and dust from its mane
under its unearthing paws the ground will crack
bring long-forgotten legend back
from what had turned drought
skeletons shall spring and sprout
- eyes wild, flesh tender -
deny their surrender
and wolves in awe and fright
from all around call forth the night.

Dark Werewolf Moon Image 31000 Images



Suggestions, feedback, criticism (esp. on what doesn't seem to work) and pointers will be very much appreciated.

PS: yes, I'm aware I may have 'overdone' it with all the monsters, but in the horror genre, I just have too many illustrations to choose from. It's a deformity...

From Stories with love ;)

Sunday, 27 February 2011

The Great Evanescence - a poetic story


Alright, I should be doing a post on the awards I got now – especially the ‘versatile Blogger’ one came with rules I haven’t followed yet – but I just finished this and simply can’t wait to hear other people’s thoughts on it... So, sorry, Taylor... What the heck, maybe there will just be two posts today.
When I started writing this, I was determined to write a story, but since I’m still switched on to poetry (that happens from time to time, the two alternate), I ended somewhere in between a story and a poem, which I suppose has a charm of its own. I think if I let this one simmer for a few years and rework it, it could be great. For now it just happened. Please let me know what you think in the comment section.
Cheers!

The Great Evanescence, a poetic story
Though I am old and from long bearing torn from mould,
it feels as though it were just yesterday
when a child I met young Mason Gray.
I was a boy, no more, and full of fright
until one day I lost my way
on a whimsical starry night.
I wandered through a moonlit street
for hours on end
until by chance I got to meet
a boy who’d be henceforth my friend.
There was no house in sight, no hunk of car
and I could see clearly a shimmer from afar
and ran towards it intoxicated
to where the strangest creature waited.
Beneath a lantern stood in ghostly light, all set aglow,
a boy whose face served but to show
the world had not yet killed its verve
and angels would still walk the earth.
I stumbled forward quite in awe
the creature stretched its well-shaped claw
and though his burning gaze revealed a fire mean,
smiled the sweetest smile I’d ever seen.
I like a moth drew ever nearer
for nothing to me ever dearer
then in that sacred flame to smoulder
and so my eyes turned even bolder.
His cheeks the softest crimson blush,
his lashes lush
his skin the purest peach and cream
his eyes as bright as in a dream
tainted by fever great
I met this fairy child of late
tolling a heart-shaped jojo in ennui
at an hour only demons roam free.
When the world was rather dim
this mystic child of light beckoned to come with him
and so I did and together we would knit
the wildest lore forevermore.
Games new and old we’d play
and from the village led astray
we roamed from meadow, bush to wood
where we would act out Robin Hood.
There we would, with sticks and rods,
take for models only gods,
split the forest and feign
to spear even the heavens in our reign.
Until morning bared its teeth
and bit away with pain and grief
at what was our youth
with roses underneath.
All at once the thorns sprung up and marred our face,
robbed us of our innocent grace
and our wondrous camp of clay
faced the stream, was washed away.
Like all things young and fair
my childhood friend dissolved, went up in night air
and left me forlorn in life’s grime
to swallow those sour grapes of time.
And now in death’s shade I stay,
worn from long decay
and as remedy to all that’s gone amiss
have nothing but to reminisce.

Monday, 17 January 2011

Entry to third edition of the in-thread writing competition - Witch pâté

Correction: apparently the contest closes tomorrow. Here’s my 150 words entry to the third in-thread writing competition:

Witch pâté
Mixing eye of nute and wart of toad, she felt the sudden urge to dig her nails into the sticky mass, as if it was his back. Leaving her for that whore, how dare he! Luckily her mother taught her just what to do with men like that, like her mother before her. A sort of... family business, you could say.
A little girl cried out: “Tommy, Tommy, where’d you go?” Annoying little brat. She set to grind some cat bones into the goo. Tommy had looked more like a Garfield any way.
How could he leave her? He knew no one could do it like her. That is to say, her way, made for one hell of a pâté!
She spread the paste out over a cracker for the sad looking caged raven.
“Don’t look at me like that, honey, you had it coming. Eat up, it’s your favourite.”

Sunday, 26 December 2010

Notebook: a tale of four brothers - part 4: The deal (fantasy short story)

Hey guys,
Sorry it took so long, there was a lot going on lately.
It’s about time to conclude the series, so this is where the short stories and the novel-in-progress start going their separate ways. I’ll let you know what comes next at the end of the last part.
This is the last but one part. Because there’s a lot going on in it for which there isn’t much space available, it may seem to be a bit fast-going. I really have to step on it at this point, fit a lot into the frame of a short story since I have three characters developing (in split up ways) all at once. Please let me know what you think.


PART 4: The deal
Of jesters and men.


Click here to go to part 1, part 2 or part 3.
The woman shook Edward as if he were a ragdoll.
“He bit the apple.” She replied viciously. “By Darmay law, that makes him mine.” Her voice was like rough cotton in her shrivelled throat.
“Please let him go.” Robert pleaded, for the first time in his life, to save his brother, preparing to go down onto his knees if he had to.
“No, the boy belongs to me. I can do with him as I please. He is my slave.”
She laughed her nail-scratching laugh and resumed her hex.
“We’ll buy him off your hands.”
She stopped instantly, listening to the ring of gold coins in her head. Then she chuckled once again.
“Buy? With what. You don’t look particularly wealthy. I’m sure you have nothing of value to me.”
“Make us an offer.”
“An offer?” She thought long and deep. “An offer...” She said, a gleam of greed and pleasure coming over her eyes.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to benefit more from all three of us than by turning one of us into a toad.”
George persuaded her with velvet tone. How he kept his cool on times like these, was beyond both of his brothers.
“Why yes, there might be something.”
Now even George’s poker face showed signs of unease. That was far too easy. The boys exchanged a glance of concern. The woman still lifted Edward by his collar, clenching her claws into the cloth. The boy had to stand on his toes not be hanged.
“And since you care so much about your brother’s...” She looked at him with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes and licked her lips “wellbeing, would you risk to share his fate, should you fail?”
“We are at your mercy.” George added, bowing his head in submission.
“This might work out.” She was suddenly surprisingly pleased. The siblings braced themselves for what was to come.
“Here’s the deal: all three of you will perform a certain task and if by sunset, either one of you has failed to carry it out, all three of you will become my property...”
She opened a wooden chest, an upright suitcase of chestnut brown wood, and revealed a case full of shrivelled formerly human dolls, hung up by strings like people hang up clothes, a detestful grin frozen on their lifeless faces.
“And join them.” She let out a horrible hysterical laughter, making the puppets circle in a grotesque dance in the air.
The boys shrugged in horror.
“We accept.” George said, pulling himself together after a deep breath. Robert nodded and Edward was in no condition to do more than look from one to the other nervously.
“You guys, you shouldn’t...”
“We have no choice, Edward, you got all of us in this mess.”
“Let’s hope you’ll learn to use your brain for once!” Robert added through clenched teeth. They were trapped.
The woman chuckled. “Oh, how cute.” She laid such heavy emphasis on the consonants that it made her sound intrinsically evil. She was surely rejoicing in her ploy, rubbing her hands.
Her bent silhouette, so exhausted to the hasty eye, did not flinch under the weight of a huge basket full of goods from her stand. She tossed it to Robert, who could only just catch it, falling backwards to the ground.
“Sell these, you wuss,” she hissed like a serpent, “every each one and should you come back with anything but a basket full of gold instead, you will make me an excellent toad!”
“Whatever!” He strode off, handling his cargo rather roughly in his struggles with the inconvenient luggage. He bumped into an invisible wall.
“I’m not finished yet!”
Carefully, he rubbed the sore spots. What was that?
“Don’t bruise any of my apples, or your brothers will be sorry, got that? Whatever you do to my fruit, I will do to them.”
“You crazy old tart!”
The hag snarled with chagrin.
“I’ll teach you!”
She made some furious gestures in the sky and muttered to herself. Robert paid her no mind, and just kept going, until for some reason he tripped over his own feet. Falling, he heard a hint of bells above his head. It was only when he scrambled back up, that he noticed what had happened. His entire outfit had been replaced by a suit of a bright red-yellow check pattern. On his head was a big Fool’s hat.
She turned him into a jester!
“Now try to sell like that if you can, you big mouth!”
Infuriated, he wanted to go to her, but his shoes were so many sizes too big, it was difficult for him to move. It gave his every attempt to something ludicrously humorous. People around him stopped and pointed, hardly even masking their laughter.
“You!” He called out, panting in anger. With every work the poor boy spoke, frogs and snakes would leap and slither from his lips.
He clasped his hands on his mouth in shock. He was mortified. People stumbled back from him, uttering cries of revulsion.
“That’ll teach you, you little rat!”
“What did you do to him?” Edward cried out, heading out to help his brother.
“He got what he deserved, come here you!” Edwards wanted to leave, but her swift hands pulled him back by the collar.
“This one I will keep as a down-payment.” The boy looked up at her with desperation. “What? Did you honestly think I’d let you walk right out? Neither of you would return and I’d never have any compensation for my sufferings.”
“Sufferings? It was just an apple for God’s sakes!”
“Be it as it may, you’re staying right here as my guarantee. You better pray your brothers do my bidding properly, or else...”
The boy tried to slip away, but the witch had resurrected a barrier around the booth, which he could not leave.
“Damn you!”
“Watch that tone of yours, me boy, or you will not be the only one to pay!”
Excruciating pain went through him, cramped his stomach. He fell to his knees and screamed. He heard to distant echo’s and watched his brother’s collapse in a similar fashion by the street corners. She would tackle all three of them.
“Alright, I’ll be good, just make it stop. Leave them out of it.”
The woman sniggered.
“You’re such a good sport.” She pulled him to his feet harshly and pushed a broom into his hands. “Make yourself useful.”
Forcefully biting his lips, he started sweeping the spot vigorously.
“Atta boy! It better be cleaned up good, now!”
He sighed, but kept his mouth shut.
“Now as for you!” She turned to charge, who had been watching the spectacle somewhat pensively.
“Across the street there is a house.” She pointed out a high sandstone building with a gloomy atmosphere. “It has long been abandoned. In this house, at the top of the stairs, you will find a room and in that room, a flower. I want you to bring that to me.”
He nodded and ran off. He passed through the dark entrance and got swallowed up by the darkness inside, disappearing into the house. The door fell shut behind him.
“It’s a trap, isn’t it?” Michael yelled.
“Did you think I would make it so easy?” She lined her chin in contemplation. “Hmm, what will I do with them... Toad soup or toad pâté? With some nice crispy legs on the side. Mmm, mouthwatering.”
Edward struggled the best he could to keep his composure so he wouldn’t give her a chance to vent her frustration on his brothers any more than she already had.
Meantime Robert was wobbling through the streets as if he wore flippers like a diver ashore.
He tried to sell some fruits, first politely, but the vermin he spread with every word drove all potential customers away. Then he tried more aggressive, finally violent approaches, all to no avail. People steered away from him, he staggered after them, all citizens mocked him, no matter where he crawled off to hide from them.
He jelled insults at them, the worst he could think of, and they relied with more laughter, throwing rotten food at him. Some kids even attempted stones.
“Sell this!” They cried, chortling.
“You, FREAK!”
An egg hit his cheek, the mush dripping down along his face.
“Yeah, ain’t that f...funny.” He stammered, nearly chocking on a slithery tail.
He felt someone bumping up to him and grabbed the person’s mantle, clearing his eye with the other.
“Hey, you, buy some fruit!” He said, turning his most threatening gaze at the dwarf he clutched. The tiny creature struggled and jerked free. He gave a nasty low kick against Robert’s shin-bone and ran off as fast as his tiny legs would carry him.
“Why, you... I’ll show you!”
Robert wanted to go after the little devil, but forget his situation and fell to the ground, face in the dirt, managing just in time to save the basket from a similar fate. Everyone around burst into apathetic laughter and covered him in a pile of rotten fruit and vegetables.
“Yes, go ahead and laugh, why don’t you!” He cried out, bobbing out of the street as fast as he could. That humorous attempt of course only made the laughing worse.
“Why don’t you all drop dead.” He uttered, leaving a trail of frogs and snakes behind, which quickly dissolved once they hit the ground.
He smashed into figure entire wrapped in an oversize grey cloak, face completely hidden away in the hood.
“Hey, watch, where you...” He caught a glimpse of burning bright eyes in the shadows, like green fire, a face laced with dark, curly hair. It made his breath stop. Then she was gone. Hardly two seconds their eyes had met. The world was put on hold, and then started to move again, too fast, too crowded.
“Wait, I...” He wanted to go after her, but couldn’t, and she disappeared. No way of knowing which way. How could she not run, she could not help but be repelled by him, and his vermin.
He lowered his head. He had been going at this all wrong. For the next hours, he held his tongue and persuaded people to buy his fruit with gestures only. It worked. He thanked them with a bow of the head. They paid him extra, his basket quickly filling up with shimmering gold.
George was in the entrance of the hall, waiting for his eyes to get accustomed to the dimness. He took a deep breath and whispered to himself to just breathe, just keep breathing and all would be well. He never told anyone how much he feared the dark.
It wasn’t long until he clearly discern the contours of steps leading up.
“The staircase!” He exclaimed, and rushed up two steps at a time. The sooner he’d get back out into the light, the better!
Just like the witch said, he found himself in a room, as dark as any other in the house, with in the middle a ray of light coming from a hole in the roof. The ray encompassed a beautiful black rose in a narrow crystal vase.
“The flower!”
He quickly plucked it from the table and gave it a brief examination – it was of a kind and colour such as he’d never seen before – and made off. His task was complete. All he had to do was go a few more yards to the...
All of a sudden, the ground started quaking. The door shifted further away and the house turned into a gigantic labyrinth in which up-down, left-right, forward-back were all mangled and nothing made sense.
He strolled, ran, went around corners that had not been there before and bumped into walls that rose out of nowhere. Hallways just swayed wherever they pleased, whenever they pleased, stairs lengthened or clipped as they so desired, obeying only a will of their own. After an hour of wandering through the irrational dark, he was soon to find that he was utterly lost. No laws of direction mattered in this maze. He picked something up from the floor and threw it up, where it stuck to the ceiling. Even gravity itself had become unreliable. Who could he ever get out of here?
He looked down at the black flower in his hand. He had the prize, but no way to deliver it. Now what?

To be continued...

Saturday, 4 December 2010

Notebook: a tale of four brothers (short story, part 2: Darmay)

Notebook: a tale of four brothers


PART 2: Darmay
One eager, one curious and one just used to getting everything.


(click here for part 1)



He straightened his crown properly and launched forward. Immediately the coronet was beaten off his head and Robert was in hot pursuit through the air. His clothes jingled like a dozen tiny bells. He slammed on his back against his brothers.
“Robert, give it up!”
“Edward’s right, it’s no use. That thing is way too big for you.”
“Nonsense!”
Robert crawled back up and brushed his clothes off. Hardly five minutes later, he was again flung through midair. The monster seemed all but impressed.
“Cut it out, already, you’re going to break something!”
“This isn’t helping.”
“We need a new strategy. No matter how much I try, I can’t get anywhere near its eye, he’s much too tall. Unless...”
George and Edward looked at each other and then him.
“Unless what?”
“I thought you’d never ask!”
Without another word, he scooped up Edward and took him on the shoulders.
“We’re higher this way.”
“No way, put me down! Robert?! Please don’t make me get near that thing, I’m scared!”
“Quit whining! George, we’ll distract him, you sneak up from behind and tackle it.”
“Sure, maybe it will take long enough to kill us for that... I’m gonna shit my pants Robert, I’m going to shit them right in your neck, if you don’t put me down RIGHT NOW!”
“Here we go...”
“NOOO!!!”
Edward covered his eyes.
“Will you work with me here, I can’t keep my balance with you leaning left and right!”
“I’m trying to dodge the punches, if you don’t mind, I’m not going to be your damn safety pillow!”
Robert staggered back and front, trying to keep them both upright. It was a very shaky constellation.
“George?”
“I can’t get past if you don’t keep it busy!”
“Edward? Keep its attention. Watch the fists, idiot!”
“I can’t see anything but fists at the moment.”
“Get closer!”
“What?! I don’t wanna die...”
“Blow, damn it!”
Edward puffed into the sky, refusing to bend his neck even the slightest in the monster’s direction while its arms kept swinging away at them.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, you wouldn’t even blow out a candle that way, you sissy!”
“Would you rather be up here, if you’re so much better, your majesty?”
With a furious growl, the creature tripped over the outstretched leg of George, who hastily got far out  of the way.
A sigh of relief ran through the trio.
“Now that was close.”
They made it across the bridge and continued their way undisturbed. For hours to come they would meet no one and see no trace of human civilization.
“It’s a bit funny though. It’s as if the land’s deserted.”
“Let’s hope not. I’d like to be nice and comfy and warm once it gets cold. If we don’t find some houses soon, we’re going to have to spend the night outside.”
“I hope we find a castle.”
“A castle?”
“Yeah, I’m a prince aren’t I? That would make this my land. A prince without a castle, what kind of a ridiculous prince would that be?”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Robert.”
“You’ll see, the first town we get to will welcome us like royalty.”
“If you say so...”
“I’m hungry.” Edward said whiney.
“We’re all hungry, Edward.” George replied annoyed. He could be such a child sometimes. As if their difference in height, despite being twins, was sufficiently telling for the parallel distinction in maturity.
“It couldn’t possibly take so long to the nearest town. Why would people take the trouble to build roads if they lead nowhere?” Robert wondered.
“Maybe this parallel world is empty, until the narrator invents something. Perhaps we should ask Michael for help.”
All three cried from the top of their lungs.
“Auch! That hurts my ears, stop screaming! I’m here, what is it?”
“We need somewhere to go, a town or something.”
“A city, make it a city! It better be big. I don’t want to rule anything small.”
“With a gigantic palace!” Edward exclaimed enthusiastically.
“And a market, we’ll need to get supplies.” George added in his matter-of-fact kind of way.
“I’ll see what I can whip up, hang on.”
The group left the path
and made their way
for aftermath
they reached Darmay.
“Hm, the prince of Darmay. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Okay, so we left the path, where is it?”
“We should have seen it already. You can’t miss a big city in a plain.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m not done yet. It’s not easy to come up with something that actually rhymes too, you know. Where was I... Right, Darmay. Here goes:”
which in scorching desert lay
Immediately the landscape changed all around and they started to see a large shape looming up from the ground and getting clearer as Edward’s words echoed through the alternate universe.
around a fountain from which water sprung
as clear and light as day
that was said to keep you young
if you drink it may
“You just had to come up with a frigging desert?!”
“How about: thanks, narrator?”
“It sure as hell took you long enough!”
“Okay, okay, let’s just get moving.”
They enter the big wide-open wooden gates of Darmay. As soon as they were inside, the robust entrance was closed behind them. Like thunder, Michael’s voice again rung out.
This city of a thousand wonder,
home to witches and wizards,
every day went down and under
to shield itself from raging blizzards
Each traveller that reach it might
must wait to leave till it emerges
so he who Darmay searches
shall stay within a whole fortnight
“WHAT?! A fortnight? What the hell are we supposed to do for a whole fortnight? Where are we going to sleep? What are we going to eat?”
“I'm working on it! Jees, give me a break, will you? Just go inside, find someplace warm to sleep and I’ll figure something out to get you out of there in the morning.”
Someone knocked on the attic door. All four boys held their breath.
“What is that?”
“Someone’s here, I told you that would happen, Robert!”
“Boys?”
“It’s mum, hold on and don’t say a word! I’ll be right back.”
“Boys, I’ve brought you some biscuits...”
“Oh, God, what should I tell her...”
The boy opened the door just a crack.
“Hey, mum.”
He reached his arm through the small opening for the plate of cookies. His mother tried to peer in past him. He blocked the way, laughing nervously.
“What are you guys doing in there?”
“Nothing, playing.”
“You know your father doesn’t like for you to be up there. The floorboards are very old, it’s dangerous.”
“We’ll be careful.”
“Alright then.”
Michael shut the door and leaned against it in-and exhaling deeply. Close call...
In the other world, the three siblings found themselves stranded in the great capital of magic.
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