1: The Inkling are to be polite and respectful of one another.
2: We discourage violence, and insulting. Please settle disputes in a calm and rational manner.
3: Do not use any foul or dirty language, and please respect the values that we hold here at Inklings.
4: Do not ridicule, or tarnish anothers character, they are beloved by their creators.
5: No dark, or violent characters in the chat room.
7: Respect the moderators and obey them, regardless of age.
8: Anyone who abuses, stretches or defies these rules will be banned from the chat room and if great lengths are taken to rebel against these guidelines, then you will be cast out of Inklings.
The Chocolate Box
The Chocolate Box will be under Probation. So if anyone acts up badly and abuses the chatbox we will reserve the right to remove it without warning.
It's the evasive Lu who hasn't been on here in months! :D Yours truly! I haven't been on HSB in I don't know how long, much less Inklings. How are you all? Doing terrific meself. =D
Hey, if you haven't already, come check out my new Google blog... faeriesandbroomsticksandunicorntails.blogspot.com
So, I have a sort of but not really poetry thingy here...more like prose than anything. Hope you like it. :)
*~*~*~*
EMPTINESS
I saw a doe and deer go bounding through the trees;
Sheesh, it's been awhile since I've posted on here! *dumps a slushie on the Slushie Queen's head [a.k.a. Pip], dances with Laura, tosses a shortbread cookie to Snicket, steals Syd's tricycle, and passes newly-sharpened pencils and fresh notebooks to everybody else!* =D
So, today I'm posting...not a book chapter, but a poem! I wrote this quite recently, and personally, I think it's the best poem I've ever written. ;) Enjoy!
Okay, I think the last chapter I posted of my book was chapter five...so here's chapter six!! You can also read it at my story blog, here.
Love,
Lucy
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And There Were Three: Chapter Six
Ficum trudged up the riverbank to the Water Fairy’s house, his young face glowing with health and exercise. He was returning from his long hike in the woods, and his eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness. When he was halfway up the bank, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have cleaned his bedroom, and that his mother would probably have discovered the mess by now. Stooping down, he hastily picked some violets with which the grass was thick. He decided to offer them to his mother as a “peace offering”. Perhaps then she won’t be so angry with me, he thought.
“Mother!” he called bravely. “I’m back! See what I brought you.” A sob rang out of the cave along with the words,
“I’m not your mother!” Ficum stared. He ran up the hill and into the house. He found Anomien pitifully shedding huge drops of tears, her head on the table. On the table were two teacups and a cold pot of water. The boy ran to the fairy and threw his arms around her.
“Mother, what is it? Why are you crying so?” Anomien lifted her head. Her beautiful eyes were red and so was her tiny nose. She said bitterly,
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I am NOT your mother. I don’t know who your mother was, what was her name, or where she was from; I only know she was human.” Ficum was silent, too astonished to say anything. Anomien groaned softly and put her hands to her face. “I adopted you when you were just a wee babe. Syla and I found you in the woods, alone except for your deceased mother. You were such a sweet little boy…” here Anomien sighed heavily, looking up. “I did not want to tell you this now; I wanted to wait until you were sixteen, for that was the age that we decided you would leave us and search for your true family. But Queen Asani visited me this afternoon and she told me that you would have to leave now. I do not know how she decided this, however she is very wise, so I do not question her authority.”
“Is that why you were weeping, because I had to leave?” questioned Ficum in a low voice. Anomien bowed her head and said naught. Ficum reached his hands up to wipe his eyes, but manfully tried to hide his tears. The Water Fairy heard him sniffing, and holding out her arms she pulled him to her chest, great boy that he was, crooning tender lullabies over him. To her, he was still her precious baby.
+++
At this time, it was early spring. Flowers were blooming, the grass was turning green and the air was warming. Birds sang sweetly in the budding trees while newborn fawns and cubs roamed the forest floor with their watchful mothers. Rivers were casting off their blankets of ice and flowing merrily once more. All was fresh, beautiful and clean, like the air after a rain storm.
This was the Earth Fairy’s favorite time of year, and she spent most daylight hours outdoors, either walking dreamily among the fields or tending her newly tilled garden. Each plant was her personal friend and she loved every one of them (except, perhaps, for the weeds). The day Ficum learned he had to leave, Syla was gardening. Ficum wanted to talk to his “aunty” Syla, for staying in his house only reminded him of the upcoming departure; besides, he said to himself, she needs to be told about this. So he kissed his mother and departed, heading south.
Arriving at the Earth Fairy’s home, Ficum knew that she would probably be gardening. He opened the little white gate and walked to the back of the house, where Syla was. He respectfully waited at a distance until she should notice him. Syla looked up from where she was digging, and with a smile motioned him to come close. He did so, and sat down on the grass bordering the garden. He said nothing, noticing how absorbed she was, but he watched her plant a row of seeds (he didn’t know what kind) and pat the dirt on them with loving care. This done, she breathed on her hands, causing them to become quite clean, for she was a fairy, you know, and could do many magical things. Then she sat down beside her foster nephew.
“You look sad, Son. Is something troubling you?” she asked. He nodded slightly. “Why don’t you tell me about it, for no one should have such a frown when the earth is smiling. I’m listening.” Ficum sighed wearily and told her all that happened. Syla listened intently and her happy face turned grave, like a cloud covering the sun. When Ficum finished, he and Syla sat so long without moving that a little rabbit loped casually by their feet and sparrows hopped near them, pecking at the grass. Abruptly the Earth Fairy stood up.
“Come,” she said shortly. She walked briskly toward her hut, and Ficum followed slowly. She entered the house and told the boy to wait outside. He leaned against the wall of the house, his face solemn and his mind busy. At length Syla returned with a pretty leather bag, embroidered with a wavy pattern, simple yet graceful. She handed it to Ficum, saying,
“This is for you. Inside are three very special herbs, which will help you much, but which you must use with the utmost prudence. One”, (pulling out a soft, green plant), “will cure any wound once applied with a little pure water; another one”, (pulling out a deep red, bushy plant), “will light a fire anywhere when rubbed gently against a piece of wood; and this herb”, (producing three beautiful, blue leaves which looked like lettuce), “is the greatest. Crush it in your bare hands and the smell will frighten away any enemy, for although you yourself can’t detect the perfume, they can and they sense its power. Crush it in clean water and help will come to you, provided that help is close enough. Eat a small portion of it, and you will need no nourishment for three days at least. Lay it on a wintry river of ice, and the water will melt; lay it on a gurgling, spring river and the water will freeze. Rub it on burns and they will disappear with cool refreshment; rub it on an aching head, and it will find relief, or an aching ear or tooth for that matter. The herb can do the whole of this.
“All these different things these different herbs can do, but I warn you again that if you use any of the herbs in a commonplace manner, taking them for granted, you will be extremely sorry. I give these to you, dear Ficum, in the hopes that they will aid you greatly in your travels and that in your youthful but wise logic and reasoning you will cause them to last as long as you need them to. Accept them and always remember Syla, who is still your aunt in heart, if not in blood.”
Ficum accepted the wonderful herbs gratefully, but could find no words to tell her his thanks or how much he cared for her. Pulling the small clump of violets out of his belt (which, you remember, he had planned to give to his mother but had forgotten) he handed them to Syla and said rather bluntly,
“Thanks.” Syla was more touched by that little bunch of half-wilted violets and the short thank you than if Ficum had offered her a huge bouquet of the rarest flowers along with a lengthy speech. For she read his feelings in his face, and knew he needed no other words.
*hugs everybody in sight and dumps smoothies on their heads*
Sorry, I got that idea from Pip. ;D
HOW ARE Y'ALL?? I've missed you guys so much!!!!!
Anyways, I know this will sound REALLY dumb, but can I get the link for the chat room again? I seem to have lost it somewheres. Help me PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!
Well, gotta run and catch up on stuff!! Talk to y'all latah!!
Sorry it's been awhile since I've posted anything, but I just haven't gotten around to it. So here's my latest creation! -one of them. No, it's not a book chapter, it's a short story. A Narnia fan-fiction, actually. Enjoy!!
*departs with the snap of a white cloak*
*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*
What Secrets Are Kept In The Heart Of A Queen
by Lucy Maud Montgomery
She paused and took a deep breath. Jack looked up into her face with a plea.
“Please, Aunty Sue,” the lad implored, “don't say that's the end.” She smiled at his eager brown eyes and placed a soft, wrinkled hand on his brow.
“It is, child,” returned Aunty Sue. “Stories don't last forever.”
“Do you have another one, I hope?” said Jack, not without a small sigh, for he was resigning himself to his fate. She thought for a moment, black eyes twinkling behind the round glasses.
“I don't think...” she began, frowning. “Oh, this old brain; the rusty wheels don't turn as well as they used,” with a pleasant chuckle. “While I'm thinking, dear, would you be a brick and fetch us both a cup of tea? I think there is a package of Earl Grey in the pantry.” Jack, who was a cheery, rosy lad of about eleven, ran to the kitchen, glad to be of service to the elderly lady who had so often bewitched him with her fanciful tales. People with bad tempers called her “batty”, but by those who really knew her, she was well-beloved as “Aunt Sue”. What her last name was, none of her friends seemed to know or care; nor did they question her background and relations. Something about the smiling old face, radiating beauty as it must have prodigiously well in its youth, made one want to sit beside it and pour out his troubles and heartaches trustfully. Young folks loved her for her youthful heart, still so merry and witty, and older folks loved her for her wise advice and caring spirit.
As Jack came back through the passage, carefully bearing the teacups, Aunt Sue nodded her head and talked to herself. “Yes,” she thought, “that will do just fine. I think he's ready to hear it. Jack, my child,” (aloud) “how delightful! Just set mine on the table here, that's right, beside the lamp. Do you take sugar? Yes, there is some in a cupboard in the pantry, the same one where you found the tea. It's a blue flowered bowl. That's right. Now how about cream? In the icebox.” Once they were again comfortably settled, Aunt Sue set down her teacup and smiled. “While you were getting tea,” she said, “I did happen to think up another story.”
“Hoorah!” cried Jack, almost upsetting his tea.
“But I'm afraid, child, it is the last one.” She grew sober, and took another sip of tea. “I say, Jack, that's a jolly good cup. Now, don't look so sad, child, but listen....
“It was the day before my wedding. My parents, my sister Lucy, my cousin Eustace, and three good friends of ours were coming, and my brothers Peter and Edmund had already arrived. Now Peter and Edmund had been gone for a couple days (they hadn't told me what they were doing, but I was too wrapped up in my wedding preparations to notice anything), and were going to pick up our people at the station on the way home. I remember waiting, waiting solong for them to come back that day. Since all preparations were finished, all I could do was wait, and I was becoming impatient. Finally, I rang the station. The man on the other line, to my horror, told me there had been a multiple train crash. I used to imagine the worst case scenario when I was young, so you can imagine how terrified I was. Feverishly, I asked him which trains (I, of course, had the numbers). The trains with all who I was expecting, my family and our friends, had crashed. I begged the man to tell me which hospital they would be at, but he said they hadn't found any bodies yet.
“'Gosh miss,' he said sorrowfully, 'I'm right sorry; but you'll have to wait.'
“Wait? my insides screamed. 'Thank you for your kindness,' I managed to say. I hung up and grabbed my coat. My one thought was to drive to the railway station and find Peter and Edmund. But I could not take the car to the station because my fiancé was using it; so I hailed a cab. If the driver noticed the immense tears streaming down my face, he didn't say anything. We drove to the station in tense silence. My hands were trembling, my eyes blurred, and my mind was in so much turmoil I could only say in my heart 'God, not my sister, not my parents! My cousin, our friends! No! Not dear, sweet Lucy!' I could not even be grateful that I still had my brothers.
“And yet, I had no cause to be grateful in that quarter, it turned out. Arriving at the station, I tore out of the car and ran. I stopped short when I saw the smoking, ugly wreck with a smell of something rotten-I dared not imagine what. Policemen were holding back the curious bystanders while more searched the train. I threw myself at a policeman.
“'My friends, and my family!' I sobbed. 'They were on the train!' I clutched at his uniform. 'Please, please let me through!' He shook his head.
“'Sorry lady,' he said, looking only a little sympathetic, 'but we've got orders not to let anyone through.' Perhaps he thought I was merely looking for an excuse to nose around the wreck. At any rate, his matter-of-fact tone increased my grief.
“'My brothers?' I gasped. 'They were waiting on the platform. Let me find them then!'
“'The train wiped out the people on deck, too,' his voice now was sad. 'There was no way they survived.' I stared at him, shocked; then blackness covered me.
“I woke to the sound of quiet voices. I felt clean sheets about me and saw a shiny ceiling above. I wondered if I had dreamed, but looking at my surroundings showed me to be in a hospital bed. I sat up in a panic, only half-awake, and began feeling myself, trying to find where I was hurt. A firm hand gently pushed me back onto the pillow while a soft voice told me to be still.
“'Why am I here?' I demanded. A kindly old face appeared in front of me.
“'Last night you went into a faint. You were talking so deliriously we put you here to make sure you weren't sick. Now that we know you are all right-'
“'What happened to my family?' I asked shakily. The doctor hesitated.
“'Your brothers-' he began.
“'-are dead, I know,' I whispered, not caring that I interrupted him twice. 'But what about my parents and my sister? My cousin, my friends?'
“The doctor reached up and wiped his eyes. 'I am sorry,' was all he said, but his eyes told everything. I rolled on my side, covered my face and wept.
“That was all I did for days and days: wept. I barely ate or slept, and I never stepped outside, not even to go to church. God seemed far away, farther than He had been previously; but He was there, under more than one guise, though I didn't recognize Him under either. I felt I had to scream at Him because of the abyss I imagined between us, asking, begging 'Why?!'
“This was not the end of my suffering, though. I thought I had endured every kind of pain there was...but it was not so. My fiancé left me. Though of course sad, he was a little annoyed that I canceled the wedding. Yet when he tried to comfort me and I just pushed him away, he was angry; and after weeks of the same treatment he disappeared. I had not meant to shun him. I merely wanted time alone. But no matter how I tried to clear myself, I knew I was at least partially to blame.
“God totally removed from my life after that. I no longer bothered to even shout at Him. I ignored Him. I wandered aimlessly through my house, crying. Dust covered the rooms and the curtains remained closed. I did normal routines listlessly, mechanically. Often I didn't do them at all. I was in the deepest, blackest hole of despair.
One night, I crawled into my bed and my head sank onto the pillow. Dark thoughts filled my head and horrible voices seemed to ring in my ears. I shut my eyes and half-heartedly closed my ears. The voices continued, shrieking morbid temptations in my head. They were thoughts of suicide. Yes, even I, who always thought myself so sensible and down to earth, let myself consider it, horrible deed it is!
“Suddenly, a loud noise like the blast of a cannon or the rumble of an earthquake, or both, rang in my ears. It tore my eardrums, it was that huge; but somehow it seemed familiar to me. I jumped out of bed, roused for the first time in days, weeks even. I was frightened by this, the while it filled me with an awe-like joy. It was like a match struck in a dark room or a hot drink on a cold day, shocking at first, but so delicious and warm later. My first thought was to run to the window and see what made that noise; only an elderly chap and his dog out on a late night walk were there. They obviously neither made the noise nor heard it. Had I been what I was like weeks ago, I would have investigated. I was used to days of inactivity, however, so after drinking some water I went back to bed.
“That night I dreamed, one long, strangely sad and wonderful dream. I saw Peter and Edmund standing on the train platform, joking and talking. They each held two small cases of something. Then a picture of Lucy and my parents on the same train but in different cars flashed across. Both images were so real I almost shouted their names. I saw next the train with Lucy and my parents (and my cousin and his friend) come flying down the track. At the same time, a train from the other direction, with our two other friends, whizzed past and the two collided, rolling over and over towards my brothers. I gasped and the picture quickly changed. I saw a handsome, princely young man fighting with a sword. He was battling fierce dark-skinned men and wild beasts. Beside him fought other beasts, tamer ones, and two children. I recognized them as my cousin Eustace and his friend Jill, though both had been on the wrecked train just a few minutes before. They also were fighting bravely and skillfully, but not good enough. The dark men were too many, and the three fair ones, along with their allied beasts, were thrown into a crude stable; the dark men set it on flames. I screamed 'No!'
“Swiftly a new scene flashed across, showing all the people and animals I had just seen killed, with the ones in the train crash (except my parents), running tirelessly across a beautiful plain. The humans were dressed in lovely clothes and all, especially Aunt Polly and the Professor (our other two friends), seemed younger and more vigorous. They were having such a grand time, laughing and talking. I longed to run with them. They swam up a waterfall. Oh, you had to be there to see, or be dreaming to see I suppose. They ran some more, fast as a unicorn's gallop or the flight of an eagle. Suddenly an immense hill loomed in front of them, with a the most delightful garden, and splendid huge golden gates. All sorts of mystical creatures were there before them. Across a huge valley beside the hill, I thought I could see my parents, waving and smiling.
“Then I saw a golden lion, giant in all his glory, standing in the midst of the people. His deep eyes turned this way and that, as if he was searching for someone. I was surprisingly fearful those eyes should turn on me. I shook and slapped myself until I woke.
“It was morning. For once I felt refreshed and actually somewhat happy. 'What a lovely dream,' I sad to myself. I opened the curtains, washed, dressed and ate some breakfast. I even applied some lipstick and a little blush. I was walking about the house when the postman rang the bell. I decided to answer the door that day. The postman was pleasantly surprised and asked if I'd been on holiday.
“'Well, I have been gone,' I answered. I took the letters and flipped through it, opening some, tossing others. Lastly I opened a letter from my aunt Mary, who lived in America and whom I visited once.
“When I read the lines 'and how are your parents?' And your siblings? Give dear Lucy a big hug for me, and tell her I'm sending a nice present for her birthday', I wept and wept and wept. The letter dropped from my trembling hands and I slipped off the couch onto the floor. I had been able to push down my sorrow for that morning, until I was brutally reminded of it. I cried until I had no more tears, and heaved shuddering sobs.
“Again the dust bunnies littered the floor, and again the curtains stayed closed. I did not care how long the nightmare would last. I felt more secure in my grief and didn't want it to end.
“A few days later, I wandered through the upstairs bedrooms. The house I lived in had been the one I grew up in, so I walked through Peter's, Edmund's, and lastly Lucy's bedroom. I sat on her bed and looked rummaged through her trunk, the one she had put together when she was about fourteen. Tears splashed on photographs of us kids, when we were little, older, of trips to the beach and the park with our parents. I fondled old baby dresses of Lucy's, her dresses she had just outgrown and costumes she had made. I plundered the whole trunk and laid its contents on the bed. I felt the bottom of the trunk, to make sure I missed nothing; and to my surprise, a false bottom opened. Wonderingly, I lifted it off. A portfolio lay there. I opened it and saw a large packet of drawings. I remembered that Lucy drew, for I had forgotten. I picked them up and started. I saw drawings of many strange creatures, like the ones I had seen on the great hill with the golden gates in my dream. I tried to recall their names. Faun, Dryad, Naiad, Dwarf, Centaur, River-god. 'That's right,' I smiled, satisfied. 'I know what they are...or knew. What was that country they lived in?' I flipped the next page and saw a map of a country that I recognized instantly and gloated over, like one who has met a friend he hasn't seen in many years. I read the name: Narnia. Of course. 'That was it!' I cried. 'But how do I know it? Was it a game we used to play? It seems so real...' I next uncovered not a drawing, but a simply lovely painting by Lucy. In the middle stood a majestic, huge lion. On either side of Him stood four children, two girls on his left and two boys on his right. I knew all of them, though they were very young; they were myself and my siblings, dressed in royal clothing with crowns on our heads. Above us in flowing script were the titles: High King Peter the Magnificent, King Edmund the Just, Queen Susan the Gentle, Queen Lucy the Valiant. At the top of the painting, in the same writing, were the words Once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen. I smiled and whispered, finishing the sentence I knew, 'Bear it well.' I rubbed the lion's picture gently.
“'Aslan.'
“He came one day soon after, Aslan that is. I still remember what He told me after we talked about the railway accident.
“'Dear heart,' He said, so sweetly with a deep rumble in His words, 'I cannot take you home with me now. You forgot Narnia and all I have taught you; so you must live out a long life here in the Shadow Lands. But it is not an unjust punishment, for this I promise you: one day, you will return to your true home. For what do I always say? Once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen. And you will not be alone. I am present here too. You know where to find me,' and I still do.”
Jack came and knelt by Aunt Sue's chair, silently handing her a handkerchief when he noticed her tears. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Jack, my dear boy,” she said softly, “go into my bedroom, the first door at the top of the stairs, and open my wardrobe. Take out the large bundle wrapped in a sheet there and bring it to me.” Jack did as he was bidden, and soon returned, panting slightly under his heavy burden. By then Aunt Sue's tears had dried, and she briskly opened the box.
“Here Jack,” said she, lifting out a portfolio. “These are my sister Lucy's drawings. Oh, but won't you be delighted to have pictures to accompany all the stories of Narnia I've told you! Lucy really did have a knack for drawing, and painting. They're quite lifelike.” She set them on Jack's lap, and he searched through the papers eagerly.
“But where's the painting?” asked the boy. She laughed and pinched his cheek.
“Don't look so worried, it's right here in the box.” She drew out the painting, unwrapped the sheet and handed it to Jack. The colors were as bright as they had been when they were first painted on the canvas. It was beautiful, and Jack was all admiration.
“Are these really lifelike?” he wondered, gazing up with sparkling eyes at Aunty Sue.
“Oh yes, very like.” Jack practically glowed with a thrill of excitement.
“Aunty, you were so, so” -he scratched his head shyly and boyishly- “so pretty. And is that really the High King Peter you've told me so much about? And King Edmund? And Queen Lucy? Oh, and is that” (pointing with one finger) “Aslan? What was He like? Was He really that big? And where is Cair Paravel, is that in the painting too? This is just jolly.” Aunt Sue laughed gently and patted the stack of drawings.
“Would you like to keep them?” she asked. Jack's dark eyes grew wide.
“May I?” he whispered. She laughed again and nodded her white head. The boy flung his arms around her neck.
“Aunty Sue, you're a brick!” She disentangled herself and pointed to the painting.
“Why, it's nothing. Now wrap up that painting before it gets damaged. That's one thing I ask of you; do take good care of them.”
“Did you think I wouldn't?” said Jack. He grinned and put the artwork back in the box. “Don't worry, Aunty, I'll keep 'em forever and ever, without a scratch.”
“I'm glad, Jack. How about another cup of tea?”
And so the curtain falls on Aunt Sue, again telling the tales of her and her brothers' and sister's adventures in Narnia to an ever-eager listener, his hand resting protectively on a box wrapped in a sheet. Outside, the snow drops softly on a chilly world, whirling around the lampposts in the quiet streets, reminiscent of another snowy day, another lamppost, and the little girl who walked there, long, long ago.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's note: Jack was the childhood nickname of C.S. Lewis.
This is just to say that I have tagged EVERYBODY on Inklings!! Yes, even you R.K.! *grins at the incredulous gasps* So if you read this, check out mah blog here and get the tag!
There y'are!! Chapter the Third. This is one of the more boring chapters...but jest wait until the next one, it's wicked!!!
In my opinion. :D
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The house of the Earth Fairy lay in a corner of the Fairy Kingdom, between two marvelous birch trees, and surrounded by flowers of all sorts. It was a comfortable house made of tree bark; not very big perhaps, but snug and homelike. Out of the roof stuck the chimney, which was always smoking. The door leading into the house was rectangular at the bottom, but oval-shaped at the top, and on this hung a large mat made of grass. Dried flowers were woven in it, making a cheery picture. Inside a little carpet of the same material lay on the dirt floor. Curtains of a light substance embroidered with flowers and trees were draped on the three windows. Along the wall ran shelves with strange and outstanding carvings, on which rested shapely glass vases filled with many different kinds of flowers and bushes. In a corner sat a fat stove with a merry fire, and copper-bottomed baking dishes and pans hung on gold hooks above. An open doorway showed a small bedroom with a mattress and pillow filled with the down of cattails. A table made of cherry-tree wood with a candle on its top rested there, too. It was altogether a pretty, comfortable house.
The Water Fairy’s house was just as comfortable, but in a much different way. It was a cave beside a tremendous waterfall that poured into the Anomiada. The front of the house looked east toward the Fairy City. The inside of the cave had beautiful symbols and pictures painted on its walls. Delicate tapestries and curtains made of water lilies hung on the walls and windows. Soft mats of rushes lay all around the floor. A curious cupboard holding wonderful earthenware sat in an opening in the wall, and a fireplace cut into the rock was below it. A miniature waterfall springing from the larger one shot through a hole in the roof, ran splashing down the southern wall and out into the river. Light streamed in through other holes in the roof and through the windows, mingling with the spray from the waterfalls and casting cheery bits of rainbow around the cave.
It was in this bright house that the lost baby boy laughed and played, shoving his wee hands into the dancing spots of light. Anomien started to call him Ficum. Every morning she gave Ficum his breakfast and played with him. Then she carried him down to the riverbank, and leaving him in the care of the water animals, who were her fellow river guardians and better caregivers than any nurse, she mounted a dolphin and sailed down the water to patrol the border. Finding all secure, she would return to her riverbank, and usually discover Ficum sleeping deeply on the blanket of grass, a sweet smile on his face.
Near the end of the week, Anomien received a message from the Queen’s court, telling her to wait another seven days to meet with her sister, as Asani was still in counsel with her wise advisors. Evidently she was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery which enveloped Ficum and his box. Anomien was grateful for the delay, for she was still recovering from the first shock of finding the babe and his mother. The Water Fairy in turn sent a message to the Earth Fairy, telling her what the Queen said. On her part, Syla was disappointed in the delay, for she was extremely curious about all that happened, and sighed to think of how long it would be before she learned any answers. However, it turned out the week was shorter than she expected, for Anomien invited her many times to visit with her and Ficum. Syla was delighted with this arrangement. In this way they passed the week of waiting, and as was expected received at its end a summons to have an audience with the Fairy Queen.
+++
Anomien and Syla walked the road to the Fairy Queen’s palace once more. The Earth Fairy chattered excitedly, describing her curiosities to Ficum as she held him in her arms, while the Water Fairy glided behind, smiling softly to herself as she watched them. Arriving at the palace, they found Queen Asani pacing the room, again impatiently waiting to see her visitors. She bounced toward them, and bestowed kisses on all three, even the startled Syla. Then sweeping the baby up into her arms, Asani skipped back towards her throne and plopped herself upon it. She said with a giggle,
“Pardon my, well, un-ladylike enthusiasm, but I can’t tell you how I’ve been longing to see you!” Anomien replied, laughing,
“You sound like my dear friend Syla! Although I think she was more impatient for answers to her questions than anything else.” Syla grinned sheepishly while Asani exclaimed,
“And you shall get your answers, at least some of them. I don’t know all, but I shall relate what I have learned.
“Having consulted with my counselors about this matter, and having made many explorations, we have arrived at the simple conclusion that the writing on this box is written in some ancient script known only to a particular race of humans, those to whom our Ficum belongs. We do not know what the writing says, but are hoping that in time, Ficum himself will be able to read it. We have a feeling that there is something of great importance in the box, most likely concerning Ficum. So far, that is all we have been able to discover, which, unfortunately, is not much; after all, we fairies are very unacquainted with humans and their ways.” Asani leaned back in the throne, her slender fingers drumming the armrests. Anomien gazed out of the throne room window while Syla sat brooding. She abruptly broke the silence:
“But why did Ficum’s mother get murdered in such a brutal way? What could have caused such a tragedy?”
“We are not even sure that the girl was actually Ficum’s mother,” answered Anomien. “Perhaps she did not have anything to do with the boy? Maybe it was just a coincidence that we found her beside the child?”
“No,” said Asani. “It was not a coincidence; I am sure of that. I suppose that the people who killed Ficum’s mother wanted to do the same with Ficum. It was lucky that Ficum’s enemies didn’t find him. Poor girl!” (She sighed, thinking of Ficum’s mother.) “If only we could find out who was responsible for her death. Then we could do something, we could act.”
They continued in this manner, talking far into the morning. The outcome was that they would raise Ficum themselves in the arts of combat, riding, swimming, everything a fairy boy would learn, and even more. When he was of age, they would reveal to him his true heritage (if he had not guessed it already) and as much of his story as they knew. Then they would send him with their blessing on a journey, a perilous one, to find those who were his real family. Anomien, the softhearted, shed silent tears at the anticipated parting.
*sings* This is the moment you've been waiting for!
What?
You haven't?
*pouts*
Why not?
*sigh* Nobody understands me.
Anyways, here's the next chapter of mah book, which many of you have already most likely read:
Chapter Two
The fairy city of Myriada (named because of the myriad of fairies that lived and passed through there) was situated on a magnificent mountain; actually, the whole mountain was but part of the city. The Fairy Queen’s palace was on the mountain, and from there the city wound down and landed at the mountain’s foot, where it spread out for three miles round. This part of the city contained numerous trees and flowers of all kinds, as well as quaint fairy houses, shimmering pools, and stables for the royal unicorns (of course, fairies preferred flying to riding, and the unicorns were usually used only on special occasions). Beyond the walls of the city a few homes were dotted sparingly among many trees and hills that stretched out for miles; and beyond these ran the River of Anomien, or the Anomiada, moving in a wide circle around the city. This river was the guardian of the city, for it was the border of the kingdom, and there were only three ways to cross the roaring water: flying (and only fairies could do that), walking over the bridge of diamonds, which was always watched carefully, or taking a boat across. The last was the most dangerous, for the river flowed fiercely and could easily tear a boat to pieces; also, the beasts of the river, the sea horses, fish, etc. were always ready to attack any who would dare cross the water by boat. They were ordered to protect the city by Anomien, the Water Fairy, who was the Anomiada’s mistress and guardian.
Past the border of the kingdom of the Fairy Queen of Myriada (sometimes called the kingdom of Myriada) lay immense forests and wide plains. Most of the fairies traveled no farther than these forests and plains; in fact, they rarely left their kingdom at all. Because of this, they did not know much about the Wild World where humans lived. Only very few ever explored the world of humans; and when they did, it was usually to visit a relative or friend. That is why fairies in Myriada often thought humans slow, clumsy, fierce creatures, and they couldn’t be bothered with them. So you see why it was strange that Anomien should take such interest in the human boy, and bring him with her to present him to the Fairy Queen.
“Your Majesty!” One of the handmaids of the Fairy Queen rushed into the throne room and knelt at the Queen’s feet. “Your Majesty!” she said again.
Queen Asani turned her head at the address. “What is it, Lyli?” she asked the maid gently. The maid answered, still kneeling:
“Your Royal Highness’ sister, Anomien the Water Fairy, requests an audience with you.”
“My sister? Good news! Send her in at once, Lyli.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied the fairy, and with a curtsy, she ran out of the room. Queen Asani hopped off her throne with a sprightly air. She was strikingly beautiful, with the Water Fairy’s same blue eyes and pointed chin, but with midnight hair falling in waves down her back. Upon this raven glory rested a circlet of silver, encrusted with costly jewels. On her delicate figure a violet dress of silk clung. In her dainty, white hand a crystal scepter was held. Her feet wore grey satin slippers that shimmered as she moved. Her wings were transparent, veined with silver that sparkled like diamonds. Though small, she was full of vigor, and she flittered around the room, impatiently waiting for her sister.
The throne room door opened, and Anomien glided in, accompanied by Syla the Earth Fairy, who was carrying the baby. Anomien ran to her sister with a beaming smile. Asani opened her arms to embrace her, but Anomien first held up her finger, and dropped on one knee to kiss the Queen’s hand. This done, she jumped up on her feet and threw her arms around Asani’s neck, who exclaimed joyfully,
“My dear, dear sister! I have missed you, oh very much indeed. But what is the reason for this delightful visit?” Anomien replied, with a wave of her hand toward Syla,
“This baby.” Asani turned toward the Earth Fairy, who performed a deep curtsy, and held out the boy. He gurgled, staring at the Fairy Queen with his round eyes. She in turn stared at him curiously for a moment, and picked him up in her arms to observe him closely. Then she turned, walked to her throne, and sat down still holding the child. Indicating some chairs by her side, she said,
“Please, sit down and tell me all about it.” The other fairies did so, and Anomien proceeded to tell the story. When she got to the part about the finding of the child’s mother, tears ran down her cheek, and she could not speak. Syla then took up the story in this manner:
“So I told Anomien that I had found the baby’s mother. She came and looked, but turned away, for oh, it was a terrible sight, Your Majesty. On the ground lay a human girl, scarce more than seventeen or eighteen years old. She would have been a pretty thing, were it not for the blood on her body, as there was an ugly gash in her chest. Her face, her whole body was extremely pale, though she must have been dead for only a few hours. But, Your Highness, worst of all were her eyes, so lifeless and dead, yet full of pain and fear; unearthly they seemed, yet alive, like those of a ghost or a spirit long dead and rotting in the grave, but come back to life. It was awful. Whoever carried out such a cruel, cruel deed ought to be punished forever, that’s what I say,” and here the Earth Fairy burst into hot tears.
As most people don’t like other people seeing them cry, we will skip this part of the story, and jump ahead a bit. After Anomien and Syla had dried their tears, though their eyes were still red, they all sat silent, except for the baby, who laughed and squirmed and played with the Queen’s hair. They stayed in this manner until Asani, who had been sitting, brooding with her chin cupped in her hand, said,
“Show me the gold box that you found with the baby.” Syla reached into a pocket in her dress, drew out the box and handed it to the Queen, who examined it after placing the infant in her sister’s arms. She scrutinized the box, turning it over in her hands, rubbing the writing with her fingers. At last she said thoughtfully,
“I cannot make anything out, but I have a feeling that the writing on this box contains an important message, probably for this little boy. Leave it with me, and I shall have some of my wisest courtiers take counsel with me. For the present, you may keep the baby with you, Anomien, and at the end of the week, return here, and perhaps I shall have some answers for you.”
Anomien and Syla then stood up, and curtsied to the Queen. Anomien bade her sister farewell, and they left the room, Asani already summoning her wise courtiers. The Earth Fairy and the Water Fairy walked down the city street together, each busy with her own musings. They heeded not the many curious eyes that watched them from doorways and windows. When they came out of the city, Syla bade Anomien and the baby farewell, and flew off toward her home, where she spent the rest of the day deep in thought.
Anomien returned to her home as well, cradling the boy in her gentle arms. Arriving at her house, she gave him something to eat, and laid him tenderly down on a bed of rushes, covering him with a blanket of a similar sort. She kissed him on the cheek, and sang a lullaby to him. Her voice was beautiful and clear, like the splashing of rain drops or the rushing of a quiet stream. His eyes slowly closed, and she softly stole out of the room. She then walked to the riverbank, where she positioned herself on a rock to ponder all that had happened in just a short time. Feeling tears coming to her eyes as she considered the helpless, motherless baby, she started to sing once more. The musical tones soared over the water, mingling with the song of the river, and bringing peace to her troubled heart.
*Rushes in with a red face and slams some papers down on the table*
THERE!!
Here it is, my first book chapter! I know, I know, some of you guys have read it already, but too bad! You'll have to read it again, mwahahaha!
So.
Enjoy! [And hope that RK doesn't consider this a cliff hanger...*gulp*]
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And There Were Three
by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Chapter the First
The baying of hounds shook the cold silence of a dark, grim forest as a young woman, barely more than a girl, ran with panting mouth and a baby upon her heaving back; she was running as fast as she was able among the tall trees, stumbling as she tripped over roots and vines. The beams of the night’s crescent moon slipped through small openings in the towering branches of the forest, throwing patches of silver-blue on the fallen leaves. As the girl sped through these soft rays, they cast glances upon her ragged clothes which were stained, not with dirt or filth, but with blood.
The hounds howled again; they were closer. The girl gasped for breath, and suddenly her legs crumbled under her. She fell, and the baby tumbled off her, crying piteously. The girl groaned and tried to move her legs, but one of her ankles was twisted. It was now her turn to weep, and with the tears streaming down her face, she kissed the infant’s plump cheek and set him in a rotted log. She gave him something from a bottle, and his tears stopped. She set down a small gold box with intricate and queer designs beside the baby, and quickly scooped up leaves with which she covered him. The nearing barks of the dogs ringing in her ears, she proceeded to drag herself away from the log. She crawled upon the leaves, to get as far away from the baby as possible, and the hounds were so close she could hear the pattering of their feet upon the ground, and also the shouts of their masters. She found herself too weak to move anymore, and sank onto the leaves. She waited, waited for what?…for death.
The dogs burst out of a thicket, sniffing the ground. Close behind them were men on horses, holding flaming torches. The cruel eyes of the bloodhounds reflected the light, glittering with malice and the delight of the hunt. Their cries told the men that the hunted was found, and the riders urged their horses on. Only voices were heard, and then four of the five men rode away, taking the torches with them, and as they rode they threw the dogs some meat, a reward for hunting down the girl. One man remained, hovering over her limp form. In the cold moonlight the naked blade of a shimmering axe rose, and fell with a sickeningly soft thud. A quiet but sharp gasp came from the girl, then nothing more.
The man mounted his horse and rode away, without even a backward glance. By great luck (or perhaps help from a more powerful source), the baby remained unobserved by both the men and their dogs. The child knew naught of what horror had just occurred in the shadows of the forest, for he was fast asleep. Some hours later, near dawn, he awoke confused, for he could hardly breathe and something was tickling his face. He squirmed, trying to get the leaves off his face, but only a few fell. He started whimpering, frustrated. Suddenly the babe heard footsteps rustling in the leaves, accompanied by soft voices. His whimpers became bawls, and swiftly attracted the attention of the strangers. The leaves were brushed from the baby’s face, and he looked up into a pair of lovely sky-blue eyes gracefully positioned in a small, pretty face with a pointed chin. The baby could not know, but this was the fairy Anomien, the Water Fairy, and also the younger sister of the Fairy Queen. She was clad in a silver dress with a girdle that matched her eyes. Finely shaped ears that formed into a point on their tip peeked out of her glossy tresses which were the color of the sun; these shiny locks framed her face and tumbled down her shoulders like a waterfall. If one were to look closely at these yellow strands, one would see small blue droplets of water nestling among the gold. Her marble hands were small, as was the rest of her body, and her finely shaped feet were bare. This picture of mystical beauty gazed at the baby and exclaimed,
“Why, Syla, ‘tis but a child, a human child, and a pretty one at that. Look at his dark brown hair, and his rosy cheeks, and blue eyes! Is he not a sweet thing?”
Her companion peered searchingly at the boy. She was as dark as Anomien was fair, with wavy auburn hair, eyes as black as the deepest abyss, and a reddish complexion. She was slightly larger in frame than the Water Fairy, and with a more earth-like glance. Her silky garment was the same color as the majestic fir trees which surrounded them, with a gold sash wrapped around her shoulder, across her breast and tied at the waist. Her wings were also green, but a shade darker than Anomien’s, and not as sparkly. She was barefoot as well, and her feet were rather dirty from working in her garden. She was the Earth Fairy, and she looked it. She replied to her companion’s question,
“Oh, he might be sweet, but not to my liking. Babies are loud wee things, and I have no use for them. You can keep him if you like; you will have no argument from me.”
“Syla, how can you say so? It is true they might be a bit troublesome, but they are darlings, and so innocent…I shall ask my lady” (the Fairy Queen) “if I can keep him, and raise him on the river. I wonder where he came from.” She picked up the boy, and rocked him gently in her arms. “Good babe,” she crooned as she saw him close his eyes. Syla watched her, shaking her head.
“He’ll turn out to be trouble, mark my words,” proclaimed the Earth Fairy. “Humans are rather stupid creatures with usually no sense of right or wrong.” Anomien merely shrugged her shoulders. Syla continued to speak, running her hands over the leaves which had previously been the baby’s bed. “He’ll be playing tricks on the other fairies, running away and…Anomien! Look at this!” Syla held in her hand the gold box with the strange designs. Anomien moved close to get a better look at it.
“How queer, and beautiful,” she said wonderingly. “It looks like there are letters on it, but written in some language I cannot read. Can you make anything out?”
“No, I can’t,” replied Syla. “Perhaps the Queen will know something about it. She is very wise and book-learned. Why don’t we take it to her?”
“Certainly. We have to get back anyway, and this fellow probably needs some nourishment. Let’s get out of this forest so we can fly,” for the overhead branches were so thick the fairies could not fly through them.
The companions started walking, gliding really, in their fairy way, through the wood, Anomien leading, Syla following, when suddenly the latter stopped and said in a low voice,
“Anomien.” The Water Fairy ceased walking.
“What is it?” she answered, almost impatiently. She was absorbed in the baby at the moment, and was in a hurry to get him something to eat. “What’s the matter?”
