The Queen’s Garden – A Fairelands Story

The Queen’s Garden had been busier than usual lately. Hestia had felt the presence of first one, then another. More and more, coming in pairs and groups, until the essence of thousands of souls drifted through the leaves, sparkling in the morning dew.

Why I Relay – A blogger challenge

The rumours were true.

The Unweaver had been at work in the world again. Rarely sighted, particularly in these lands where all the beings were so aware, so vigilant. Actions and reactions, events and occurances in the wider world rippled and echoed even here. To Saya, these whispers and rumbles were more tangible.

Strange seas – a Faire Story

“Come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me…”

Signing on to sail the seven seas had had no such siren’s call. Neither had it been the Queen’s shilling slipped into her flagon of ale, nor the cosh, bind and drag of the press-gang. It had been stranger than that. Twelve moons past, she frowned at the memory, had it been twelve moons, or twenty four? Elora span the novelty globe slowly, not wanting to disturb the bottles hidden within.

A Quiet Time – A Fantasy Faire Story

The streets were quiet.
They had been quiet for days…
Days? No, Cerys’ foot nudged the drift of detritus forming a strange high tide line along the cracked pavement. It had been a good while longer than that.

Revelation – A Faire Story

The sands shifted as the spring breeze swirled into existence, chasing the last of the clinging frosts from the dunes. Grain tumbled over grain; a slip swelling into a landslide, uncovering what had remained buried for decades. The glimmer of crystal, a shining drop of blue amidst the sand. Emerging from the depths of the earth’s clinging confinement, Arala stepped forth, pulling her staff free behind her.

What would you wish for?

What would you want, if you could have anything?

 

A seductive question, perhaps the most enticing combination of word or thought that could be conjured. Once asked, it captivated; either by focus and endless longing, or through purposeful, eternal avoidance through fear of what may, or may not be possible.

The sound of Serpents

SSSssssSSSSssss

The sibilant sound reverberated around the bayou, licking over leaves and Phyllomedusa alike.

It hadn’t been long since the mists had cleared, well, mostly cleared. Patches lingered here and there, as things were wont to do. Strands of spanish moss clung to branch and rigging; giving foot, toe and claw holds to all manner of creatures making their way through an environment never clear, never obviously dangerous or benign.