#also‚ I heard Legend of the Willow is one of their best books‚ though it's slow paced (bonus: dealt with a foreign culture respectfully) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chubbyreaderchan · 4 years ago

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Technically No | Jacob Black x witch!Reader | Twilight/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover| 2

The weekend passed by quite quickly. Sunday was spent organizing what (Y/n) did buy on that Saturday. That Saturday was truly life changing. Jacob even called her that Sunday to see if she needed any help getting he house put together, which she took. He spent the entire afternoon chatting with her about cars then he went on to learning all about (Y/n). It was nice to have someone outside of Xander actually care about her interests.

The Sunday night, she may have spent too long on a three way phone call with Buffy and Willow telling them all about Jacob. Then finally, Monday came. Bright and early (Y/n) woke up putting on her nicest clothes and make up to her preferred taste. She was finishing up breakfast when a knock came from the door. There stood Jacob as well as two just as tall and just as muscular young men. “Hey” Jacob spoke, looking her over almost speechless. She was just so beautiful but one of the young men playfully pushed Jacob out of his slight trance.

“Oh, sorry. (Y/n)... These are my friends Embry and Quil...” he nodded to them each. They both shook the young witch’s hand.

“Thank you so much for doing this... If it wasn’t my first day on the job I would have stay--” Jacob shook his head with a bright smile still on his face. “It’s fine.” “I know but young guys like you would probably prefer not hanging out at a stranger’s empty house.” She moved to allow them in. At least they weren’t vampires, she couldn’t help but thinking. “You’re welcome to anything that’s in the kitchen... It’s not much but theres like snacks and drinks...” She began walking towards the door once she took note of the time. Jacob followed her out and nodded. “It’s really not a problem... I swear.” He looked her over, eyes wondered for just a second to her neck. A cross and a pentagram nestled together on a chain. He wondered about the for a moment before looking at her face. “Seriously... Though... I was wondering... if you’d want to go to the movies. I mean as a sort of payment...” He closed the door when he heard his two idiot friends shouting at him.

“That’s what you wanted in return?” She laughed slightly. “I mean you don’t have to.” Jacob said quickly. “I’d like that...” She said before he could retract the date. Jacob’s smile jumped right back to his lips, then she leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, again.” She trotted off to her little rental and Jacob went back into her house to wait on the delivery truck.

The first day on the new job went great, only one or two hiccups but nothing to damaging. When she pulled into her drive way at 4:45 the three young men were still there now shirtless as they were helping the moving guys bring in the last few boxes into the house. What caused (Y/n) more concern is she recognized one of her boxes that Jacob was carrying. Not only was it heavier than all hell it was filled with one of her cauldrons. She rarely used because it was heavy. He held it as if it were made of paper. It reminded her of Buffy who was the one who ended up packing it in the first place.

She hopped out of the car and walked up to him with a frown on her face. He had to be magical or something not ‘normal’.

“Isn’t that heavy?” She didn’t know what to say but she was going to have to see if any of her books would tell what he was. Jacob didn’t seem bad, however. His aura was practically made of heavenly light. There was no way he was evil.

His dark eyes widened when she asked. “I uh... work out a lot.” His arm flexed slightly, her eyes wondered to look at how muscular he really was she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to... but just know you can trust me with secrets.” She walked into the living room now filled with the few boxes and furniture she owned. The two boys were chatting away happily. (Y/n) pulled out her phone as Jacob placed the heavy box down on the floor.

“I’m going to order something in... What do you guys like? My treat!” She smiled at them.

“Awesome!” Quill held a small smile. They told her the best pizza place they knew of in Forks that delivered, despite more or less knowing La Push better. “You’re awesome!” Embry agreed once the food was ordered. Not a moment later, (Y/n) phone rang and she wondered to the kitchen for a bit of privacy when she heard Willow’s voice.

In the other room with the three wolves, they began a conversation about Jacob’s imprint. “She said something weird.” He said in a hushed tone, sitting on the floor with his friends. “She said that she could be trusted with my secret...She caught me carrying something heavy... she’s already suspicious ” “Sam did say that you can tell your imprint.” Quill said relaxing a bit. “I know but I thought I would have more time to like... become her boyfriend first.” He sighed. “But there’s something different about her.” “So tell her sooner.” Embry offered. “Or see what Sam thinks.” Then she walked in again, still on the phone talking to Willow. “I should still have that book” She began looking at all the boxes, looking for a certain one that had three letters. MBK. Magic books for long. It was under another box. “One sec, Will.”

‘Will?’ Jacob frowned for a second. Was she dating someone back home? No, why would she accept his date offer if that was the case. She placed her phone down on a different box to get the other box. With a key she broke the tape and began pulling out what Jacob could only consider some of the oldest looking books he had ever seen. in fact he had no clue what language any of them were in. He glanced at his pack mates who also looked very confused. She found it and continued the conversation almost forgetting the three practical strangers in her living room. She flipped through the pages. “What kind of demon again?” she said softly, looking through the book again. “Thorganath demon. Right. Sorry.” Then she sighed softly. “Yeah, no that’s one of the pages that was ripped when I bought it used.” Silence. “Oh, yeah. How’s Tara? That good, send her my love Willow. Tell Buffy I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.” She hung up and looked over at the boys still looking quite bewildered.

“Why are you talking about demons?” Jacob spoke. He felt a bit of anxiety radiating off of his imprint. She looked wide eyed at them. “It’s... hard to explain.” “You can trust me with your secrets, (Y/n).” Jacob repeating her words from earlier. “I’ll tell you mine first...” He hated the feeling radiating off of her. This caused them both of the young wolves to look up in surprise. He was just telling them how he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps it was an imprint thing. “We can talk in the kitchen. They can grab the pizza if it gets here before we are done talking.” She simply nods, telling them where the money for it was and following Jacob back to the kitchen.

(Y/n) hopped onto the counter and he leaned against the kitchen island, trying to decide how to explain. “In my tribe we have these stories... “ he began going into the quileute legend of shapeshifts and the cold ones. “They aren’t really stories...” “You’re one.” She finished with a nod, not even remotely shaken. “Yeah, I’m a werewolf basically.” Then she started to laugh. “Oh, not technically no. Real werewolves are much more complicated.” That caused Jacob to take a second look at her. “What?” “My friend Oz is a werewolf. Like an actual light of the full moon werewolf.” Jacob actually looked shocked. Jacob sighed. “There’s another thing about us. When we shift... sometimes... we have what are called imprints.” She was smiling. Like these legends weren’t strange... as if they were comforting. “Basically it’s like soul mates... no... it’s deeper than that... Like... your whole world revolves around that person...and... I... you’re my imprint.” Now it was her turn to look shocked. She supposed soul mates or imprints rather weren’t entirely the weirdest thing. Especially from someone who grew up on top of a literal Hellmouth. In fact, it was cute.

“Well, I suppose you are pretty cute” (Y/n) smiled at him teasingly. Jacob’s grin returned to his face. “Well... now it’s your turn.” “Oh, I’m a witch.” She said simply, going into a few stories about Sunnydale, not going to into detail about each occurrence nor explaining the whole Hellmouth thing. “So, wait... are cold ones...” She paused unsure if he’d call her crazy, especially since a treaty with a vampire nest didn’t sound right. “Are they supposed to be vampires?” His eyes widened. “You’ve dealt with them too?” “Uh, yeah my friend is the slayer.” “The what?” “You know... Vampire slayer. She jabs them in the heart with pointy wooden sticks.” “That’s not how you kill a vampire. They are as hard as diamonds, only my pack can-” “That’s not any vampire I’ve ever met... They are pretty soft and burst into dust in sunlight... Or cutting off their head. Honestly, I’ve staked a few myself.”

‘She is so cute’ Jacob caught himself thinking. “Do you want to meet one of the vampires? They live here in town. In fact Bella dates one of them!” “Are they busy?” “We are in Forks. So probably not.” Jacob laughed a bit. “Invite them over.” she paused. “Wait, can he come into a house without being invited in?”

Jacob was very confused now. “Uh... I think so.” His thick eyebrows furrowed together as she shrugged. “Technically not vampires. I’ll call them cold ones though.” Her smile was triumphant. What did she win exactly? Their first argument? Maybe. She moved to Jacob’s side again, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Introduce me to them.” “Maybe later. They aren’t exactly friendly with any other wolves... in fact Edward probably still hates me.” He ran his fingers across his neck. Then he smelled pizza. He lead them back into the living room where they began to eat dinner. “Actually, I’d rather you meet Sam and the rest of pack before you meet vampires.” “They aren’t vampires.”

“So you guys are shapeshifters hm?”

The relationship with (Y/n) and Jacob got stronger even within just a week of living in Forks. Jacob would come over after she got off work and help her unpack, slowly learning about how much darker the monsters were.

It was almost instant when she called scoobies to explain, though she had a feeling she would be in trouble later but how could she keep something so insane from them? The movie date that Saturday turned into going to meet the pack quite quickly, since that seemed to interest (Y/n) more than seeing anything that was playing. Plus Jacob was asked to patrol that night since he had missed the entire week of patrol. He was glad Sam allowed it, though. They currently sat in front of the small house in Jacob’s truck. (Y/n) was ready to go but Jacob stopped her. “Just... don’t stare at Emily. Sam hates that.” “Why would I?” Jacob sighed softly. “You’ll see.”

“So... when am I going to see your wolf form?” She asked as they began walking towards the door. “Tonight. I’ll let you see... When do I get to see magic?” he half joked. Then she frowned a bit. “When there is something dangerous going on... Magic... is dangerous.” She said as she walked into the house with Jacob holding the door open. “Hey, Jacob!” A woman a bit older said with a bright smile and a large scar along her face. “Is this her?” “The witch?” A young man said with a joking voice. “(Y/n)...” He introduced. “This is Emily. That’s Seth.” He looked to still be in high school, doing homework on the table. “Wheres...?” “They are on the way back.” Almost on queue, five very large men and one young woman walk in talking excitedly about how they were hungry. How the patrol was fun and so on. The oldest looking one walked over to Emily and placed a kiss on her lips. “Is this the witchy girl?” one said jokingly. “Yeah, ‘witches’. Probably just a weird goth chick.”

“That’s Jared... and Paul. Sam is over there. Then you know Quil and Embry. That’s Leah.” Jacob nodded to the girl, after introducing the pack. “Ignore Paul. He’s got an attitude problem.” “Can’t be any worse than Spike.”

“Who?” “Oh, vampire. Completely harmless. Has a chip in his head. Can’t hurt people if he wanted” she said casually, with a wave of a hand. “Oh, great. Another vampire lover, Jacob.” Paul huffed out grabbing a muffin that Emily had just placed on the table. “Oh ick no.” She shook her head. “No, he’s just a necessary evil... Unfortunately.” Jacob moved and grabbed a muffin for him self and handed one to his imprint. Paul and Sam seemed to give her both a confused look. “A chip?” Sam asked suddenly. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” He corrected the slightly rude behavior. He wanted to make sure he was a good influence on his fairly young pack.

“Yep. Government issued.” She shrugged. That made them all look at her in confusion. “You have to be making this up.” Seth said, seemingly by mistake. She sighed. “Fine. Can I borrow the pencil?” She sat next to him getting annoyed. Why wouldn’t a pack of literal wolves believe her? A little small time magic shouldn’t do too much to corrupt her, right? The spell was learned with Willow in high school. It was no big deal.

Her eyes focused on the pencil she took and laid down. Slowly it floated up and began turning slowly in the air. “All about emotional control” She quoted something that Willow once said to her and Buffy forever ago. It was silent as they watched the simple trick, that was until Seth said “Woah, that’s insane.” This unfortunately caused (Y/n) to jump in surprise and the pencil flew into the wall across the way getting stuck.

“Oh no! I am so sorry, Emily.” She hopped up and rushed to pull the pencil out of the wall. “I can fix that!” Her hand ran over the hole and then it was gone. “Can you do anything useful?” Paul said sarcastically. “I mean when hunting vampires, floating a wooden pointy thing is pretty useful.” “That’s not how you kill a vampire. That’s a book thing.” Paul seemed annoyed. “No, no it’s not. It’s just your cold ones are calling themselves vampires without knowing what a real vampire is.” Sam sat down with Emily both interested in whatever (Y/n) had to say. Everything she spoke of was completely off of what their legends and experiences have showed them. Witches seemed real, that’s entirely possible in Sam’s mind since it was a form of magic that turned the pack into wolves.

“She’s told me some crazy sounding things.” Jacob sat next to his imprint, in a way that he was able to touch her thigh with his own. His hand move to gently touch her’s under the table. “I’ll introduce you guys to the slayer. If the monsters could chill out by the time fall break happens for her of course. The scoobies should be coming out. Then you can meet some real powerful witches.” Her smile was bright as if this was completely normal.

“Slayer?” Sam asked looking her over. “Oh, right. You guys don’t know about that. Okay, so there’s this thing called the slayer. She is born with the power to kill all kinds of dark things but mainly vampires. A new one is activated every time the last one dies.” She explained more on the legend a bit. They were still very skeptical of (Y/n)’s vampire experiences however.

“Have you even met the Cullens yet?” Leah asked confused. “No, but I’d be interested in meeting them.” “It’s dangerous.” Sam said calmly as Emily began serving dinner to the large group. “I mean... I went to high school on top of a literal hellmouth. Can’t be that dangerous...” “What’s that?” Seth asked taking a bit of his food. “It’s like... evil shooting out of hell.”

Then her phone rang. Buffy flashed on the screen. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

"Do you still have that rare book on ancient artifacts?” “Used in rituals... yeah?” “Can you mail it?”

“Of course I can. Just send it back in one piece. Don’t let Xander speak latin to it. I can send it Monday after work.” “Thanks... so uh... are you still hanging out with that Jacob guy?” “Yeah... kinda am.. right now.”

“Oh, sorry. Thanks. I might have to call you again later.”

Dinner went well, surprisingly. Perhaps it was an ‘imprinted to a wolf in their pack’ thing but it really felt like she belonged in the group of La Push boys. “Don’t worry, (Y/n) I won’t keep him out long. I’ll send him to take you home in a couple hours.” Sam said with a gentle smile as they walked out to see the boys off. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’d like to get to know Emily.” She smiled at Emily who was watching from the door. The boys wondered to the tree line, Jacob had explained it was easier to transform naked than to go through a million shorts a day.

Sam smiled to her again before following the others in. Then a large brown wolf walks out from the tree line. His eyes were large and brown. “So that’s what you look like as a wolf, Jacob.” Jacob couldn’t help but think about how smart she was, getting him a bit of teasing from his pack mates. Jacob slowly walked forward and her hand reached out, gently ran her fingers through the long fur. Then she paused. “It’s kind of weird to pet your head isn’t it? I mean imagine if I walked up to you in your human form and just... patted your head.” A noise came from him. A laugh perhaps? She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his muzzle. “Stay safe. Let me know if you need any help.” She waved as he ran off to join his pack.

This was going to be fun to explain to the Scoobies.

#reader insert #jacob black x reader #buffy imagines #buffy au #twilight reader insert #twilight

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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March 16, 2021: Legend (Review)

I get why people like this movie. The one solitary reason.

I mean, he’s great. And I’ll get into it, I promise. But OK, other than that, this movie looks great, it really does. And as fantasies go, it’s OK. Ridley Scott, when making this, really studied old fantasy stories pretty intently, by all accounts. And did that work?

Well, this movie basically single-handedly killed the fantasy genre in film for about 15 years, so...mixed results?

OK, OK, that’s entirely unfair, I know. During this time period, fantasy films were EVERYWHERE. Hell, I’ll be watching a film this month that came out during the same year as Legend. Plus, Brazil and Return to Oz, two of my favorite fantasy films from the time period, came out during this year.

After it, Jim Henson released both Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal, and...actually, wait? Was I completely wrong? For some reason, for YEARS, I was under the impression that Legend was the end of the fantasy boom, but it actually came out during the peak of the ‘80s fantasy boom, and preceded other films like Willow, the Studio Ghibli fantasy movies, Highlander...a lot, it turns out.

OK, so I was completely wrong, and I have NO IDEA where I got that idea from in the first place. Very weird. Maybe the bad reputation of this movie just corrupted its legacy SO SEVERELY, that somebody told me that once and I totally believed it. And based on what I think of this movie...

Well, let’s get into it, huh? Recap is here and here!

Review

Cast and Acting: 5/10

Tom Cruise and Mia Sara are terrible in this movie. Sorry. They’re not good. They may not be the worst, but they DEFINITELY aren’t good. And maybe that’s because they’re trying to gel with the fantasy tone, but it DOES NOT WORK. They’re just...they’re not good, OK? David Bennent is OK, Billy Barty and Cork Hubbert are fun, and Annabelle Lanyon is kind of awkward, not gonna lie. However, um...

Yeah, those 5 points belong to Tim Curry. BECAUSE TIM CURRY IS FUCKING GREAT IN THIS MOVIE. Man, I know, I know for a goddamn fact that this is Tim Curry, BUT I CAN’T TELL!!! Dude disappears into the role of Darkness, and he is goddamn FLAWLESS IN IT. Of everybody in this movie, he may be the only one that fully and successfully blends into the tone of of this film, and this is an iconic performance for a reason. He’s just...SO GODDAMN GOOD. I FUCKING GET IT, OK?

Plot and Writing: 5/10

I can’t tell if the writing for Darkness is good, or if Tim Curry’s just great at delivering his lines However, I’m gonna go for the latter, because all of the other writing in this film (by William Hjortsberg) is...fine. It’s not amazing, but it isn’t bad. There’s some fantasy-based charm laced in lost lines and scenes, and it’s nice and fun. However, the plot is probably my biggest problem, because it’s just kind of bland. Darkness is trying to kill unicorns to take over the forest, and only a pure-hearted young man can stop him, while also saving the princess. It’s the most stereotypical fantasy-esque story I’ve ever heard. Scott apparently was inspired both by Grimm’s fairy tales and Disney films, and while that influence is somewhat clear, it also somehow manages to lack the imagination of those films. Which, for a fantasy film, is especially odd.

Directing and Cinematography: 8/10

Honestly, Ridley Scott is a decent director, and this film’s not one of his worse efforts. Scott is a prolific director, and he knows how to move a camera. Is this film one of the most ‘80s films I’ve ever seen? ABSOLUTELY. A lot of it manages to look like a 1980s music video. Not that that’s all Scott’s direction, but it contributed. Meanwhile, Alex Thomson as cinematographer also does a pretty good job here. But this is another case in which the camera movement and the position aren’t the main stars, but another pleasant feature. No...no, the main reason this film looks so good...

Production and Art Design: 10/10

...IS BECAUSE THIS FILM LOOKS FUCKING GOOD. I mean, Darkness, Blix, Meg Mucklebones, Lily’s dark dress, the forests, Darkness’ citadel, Jack’s outfit, EVEN THE GODDAMN UNICORNS...it all looks fantastic. This film was nominated for the Oscars for Best Makeup, and that’s WELL deserved. In fact, what did it lose to? Oh...oh, fuck, it lost to THIS?

...Valid. Completely valid. I somewhat disagree, but goddamn, I do get it. Oof. Sorry, Legend. You still win in my book.

youtube

Music and Editing: 7/10

So, as I’m looking this up, I’m starting to realize something: there’s a Director’s Cut. And I didn’t watch that cut. Is the cut better? Shit, I should’ve checked this beforehand! If anybody’s seen the director’s cut and the regular cut, let me know what you thought, because I am very curious. Anyway, the soundtrack for the film that I watched was done by Tangerine Dream, and it was definitely ‘80s meets fantasy. And it’s also...oddly somewhat generic in that way. It’s not bad, and it’s recognizable, but...that doesn’t necessarily mean its good. It does have a vaporwave vibe to it sometimes, though. It’s not bad, but I can’t claim that it’s amazing. The editing is similar, because it’s sometimes really good, and sometimes...less-so. It definitely has that Ridley Scott flair to it, even though the editor was Terry Rawlings. Yup, it’s the GoldenEye and The Phantom of the Opera guy again. Good times, good times. And that also means that he’s been present in every month so far. Can’t wait to see if he appears in April for some reason.

Darkness, you’re a charmer, but...it’s still a 70%.

I know it’s a cult classic, I know people enjoy it...but that also doesn’t mean it’s a good movie. HOWEVER...I am totally down to watch this with friends, mostly just because of Tim Curry. Because, again...damn. Tim Curry’s a goddamn king in this film. Miss you buddy, stay healthy!

Well, that was...interesting. And tomorrow’s St. Patrick’s Day, so...I think I know where we’re going from here. TO IRELAND...as portrayed by the United States.

March 17, 2021: Darby O’Gill and the Little People (1959)

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ladynightmare913 · 4 years ago

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Red Rose, Blood Moon

Welcome to Chapter 1! This is an original story inspired by the tale of red Riding Hood. I would like to say a special thank you to my best friend and co-author Olivia ( @asunshinepuff) for joining me in writing this world onto paper.

This chapter contains many of Olivia’s ocs and some of mine as well. For those of you who want to be tagged to follow along this story, let me know! If you have any curiosities, theories or questions, feel free to ask me or Olivia on her blog.

I hope you enjoy, now without further adieu!

Chapter 1: Wolf’s Time

A young little girl, around the age of eight, was dressed in a bright red dress, as usual thanks to her grandmother, was carrying a basket in her arms as she made her way to a willow tree where her dear friend often sat. Her dark black hair with bright red streaks of red was up in a bun, her sapphire eyes sparkling bright, her fair skin clear and unblemished. Rosabella smiled at her friend, Cassandra, also eight, who she has known all her life, absorbed in a book as usual. She sits down beside her quietly. Her friend was dressed in a white dress with a laced lavender layer on top, her nose stuck in one of the books that her father had brought back from one of his prior trips overseas. Her light golden blonde hair was tied in a fishtail braid, a typical style for the little girl. There was hardly a time where you would see her without it. Her striking sky-blue eyes entirely focused on the pages of the book in her hands, however, she notices her dear friend sitting beside her.

“Hello Rose.”

“Hello Cass, what book are you reading this time?” She peers over Cassandra’s shoulder.

Cassandra looks over to her friend. “Legend of Camelot. Would you like to read it with me?”

“Perhaps later, I want to gather some herbs for grandmere, do you want to come with me?

“Why not? I can always finish the story a bit later. I’ll gladly help.” She replies with a nod.

Rosabella stands up, offering her hand to her friend. Cassandra smiles, graciously taking the hand of her friend. The girls walk to the river where the herbs were, and on their way back, they see a group of children of various ages gathered around something. So, with curiosity, the girls make their way to the group.

The girls walked right up to the boy. “What are you doing?”

A boy with brown hair, and green eyes looks up to the girls. In his hand was a stick that he was using to poke a baby snake that was not even venomous. “I found this snake sneaking into the village! Thought I might have some fun with it!”

Cassandra frowned in distaste, “Why? He cannot even hurt us!”

Rosabella, frowning as well, steps forward, taking the stick from the boy, glaring at him. “Leave him alone, he’s a baby!”

The boy glares and stands up, he was two years older than both girls. He towered threateningly over them. “Oi! Give it back. Or my father will hear about this!” He reaches forward and takes the stick back.

As the boy towers over them, Cassandra’s eyebrows raise, not feeling threatened by the boy even a little. Her eyes narrow as he takes the stick back from Rosabella who was glaring right back at him. Rosabella steps around him as she walks to the snake and gently picks it up in her hand. Then she walks to the slow moving river, gently setting the snake into the water, she turns back to face the other children and their ring leader.

“You’re a dollop head! Why must you be so cruel!” She marches back up the hill and holds her ground against the older boy.

The boy sneers “It’s an animal! They can’t think or feel!” He pushes Rosabella back.

Rosabella glares at the boy in return. “Don’t. Touch. Me. And if anybody can’t think or feel, it’s you!” She pushes him down to the ground with her arms.

Cassandra pulls Rosabella back with her arms, holding her back. “Rose stop! He’s not worth a fight, he’s too much of a cretin.”

Rosabella glared at the boy for a moment before she sighs but listens to her friend.

“You’re right… Come on let’s go.” She turns away.

Gregory stands back up and grins. “That’s right, go back crying to mummy, oh wait, you can’t cause she’s dead!”

Rosabella stops walking, her face void of emotion as she looks to Cassandra with a look. Meeting Rosabella's gaze, she sighs letting go of her arm, then looks back at the boy. “Gregory I tried to help, but you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“What?” Gregory blinks in confusion.

One moment, he was standing, the next, he was on the ground. Rosabella had tackled the older boy to the ground and both began to struggle. Managing to get off of the boy when he tried to punch her. Gregory sits up and reaches out to try and grab Rosabella’s dress. While the two were brawling, Cassandra walked over and around the two, and without hesitation, she smacked Gregory upside the head with her book. “No! Stop!”

Gregory winces from the pain and rubs his head, his friends pull him back up and they run away. “I’ll get you for this Louve!”

Rosabella watches the group of boys leave, standing up she dusts herself off, grabbing her basket that she had dropped. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Cassandra replies with a smile. Satisfied with being able to help her friend. Gregory annoyed her immensely. “Come on, let’s go home.”

The girls make their way back to the village, and people would whisper whenever they saw the two girls. Rosabella’s arm was linked with Cassandra’s as they walked together, they heard a woman speaking to her husband in front of the baker’s window about how Rosabella is stronger than most girls her age. Then, Cassandra spots a man glance their way as they walk by. Whispering to the other male about how a girl should not be allowed to read.

The blonde haired girl couldn’t bear to listen anymore as she turned away, looking down. Rosabella looks at her friend. “Don’t listen to them, they’re just stupid…”

Cassandra sighs, and nods in agreement. She looks at her friend, the feeling of hurt clear within her blue eyes. It was difficult for her to hear such a thing. “I know… But it’s hard not to listen.”

“I know, but grandmere always says “‘Best not to dwell on the opinions of the dim witted or you’ll lose what you believe.” She smiles encouragingly.

Cassandra tilts her head contemplatively as she listens to the familiar words. “She does always say that, doesn’t she?” She says with a smile in return. They continued to walk in comfortable silence before Rosabella spoke.

“I best get home now, see you tomorrow?”

“Of course! See you tomorrow!”

The girls go their separate ways and another year goes by, it’s a very cold winter and the full moon is near. Cassandra was reading as always, as her back rested against the trunk of a tree. She cannot help but shiver as a cold wind blows past. Rosabella, who was reading beside her friend, shivered at the cold gust of wind. The school-bell rings, signaling the end of another school day, and the boys run free with loud cheers as they run towards the meadow. The girls decide to go to a quieter place to read. So they head to Cassandra’s home.

Erinna, sits in the living room working on a new cloak for a client, she pauses when she hears a knock at the door. Placing down her needle and then fabric, she walks over to the door and opens it. She smiles at seeing her daughter and Rose, “Hello Girls.”

Cassandra smiles in return, “Hello Mother.”

“Hello Ms. Azure. I hope you don’t mind us coming in early, it’s cold outside.” Rosabella’s red shawl bellows as another cold wind chills them all.

“Of course not, come in. It’s much too cold to be outside at the moment without thick clothing.” She steps aside and opens the door wider for the girls to come in. Rosabella and Cassandra enter the house and sit down on stools. Cassandra was very thankful for the fact that her mother had a fire started at the fireplace. She sits down on a stool next to Rose. Erinna closes the door, stopping the cold air from entering their home.

“What are you making?” Rosabella looks at the clothes near the older woman.

“A cloak for one of the women in the village.” She says, as she walks back to where she was working.

“It’s very pretty.”

Erinna smiles at the young girl, “Thank you Rose.”

“My grandmother is making a cloak too. I don’t know who it’s for though.”

“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. Your grandmere has gifted hands.”

The day began to grow colder and Rosabella had lost track of time. Rosabella was smiling as she drank the warm broth Erinna made. She looks to the window and sees the sun setting. Her eyes widen slightly and she stands from the table.

“Thank you for the broth Mrs. Azure but I have to head home now. Grandmere must be worried!”

Erinna looks at the girl in worry but nods in acceptance, “Alright, but do be careful on your way home.”

“Should I walk with you?” Cassandra suggests.

Rosabella shakes her head. “No, I’ll be alright. I could walk home in my sleep. Thank you for the meal! Good night!” Rosabella puts on her shawl and walks out the door.

With that, Cassandra frowns lightly as she watches the door shut. It was rather strange that Rosabella’s grandmere always wanted her home before the sun set. And how panicked Rosabella became whenever she lost track of time. Hopefully Rosabella’s grandmere didn’t scold her too harshly if she was late. Looking out the window, she watches as Rosabella runs off towards the forest to grandmere’s cottage.

As the sun descended behind the mountains, the hunters had returned from their hunt, bringing back only one buck. Food was scarce, with the wolves killing everything in sight, and the people of the village would always hope for a reprieve in a successful hunt. When the moon began to make its peak in the sky, no dared venture out of their homes. Royce watched the moon rise from the window. It was full.

“Wolf’s Time.” The hunter closes the shutters before turning to face Cassandra, who sat on the stairs re-reading one of her favorite books when she hears her father speak.

“Do you think it’ll come again…?” She asks, glancing up to her father over the pages of her book.

“It might, wolves come out on the full moon. Walking into the village with ease.” As if to emphasize his point, a bone chilling wolf howl in the distance is almost missed. Deep within the forest. Cassandra gasps in fright, dropping the book in her hands before she leaves her place on the stairs and clutches her father’s waist.

The hunter listened to the howls, his hand pressed gently against his child’s head. His eyes seemed to search for the source, even when there was nothing in the hut with them. When it grew silent, he looked down to his daughter.

“I have seen many wolves, Cassandra, but the ones who venture into our village,” he paused, his skin felt cold, his face looked strained and pale. “They are not ordinary wolves. You best stay inside when it’s wolf’s time. Many people have died because of that wolf.”

She looks up to her father, thoughts racing at his explanation. As scary as it was, she couldn’t help but voice her worry and curiosity. “Has the wolf ever come inside a house on a full moon?”

“No, at least none that I have heard about.” The hunter lifts his child into his arms before he walks to the chair by the fire and takes a seat. Placing the little girl on his lap. “I’m impressed that old woman has never been attacked, especially since she lives closer to the forest.” The hunter muses.

Cassandra tilts her head at his musing, giggling softly to herself, “She’s stronger than you’d think papá, I think she can protect herself from wolves.” After a moment of silence, the soft crinkling of the fire providing a form of peace for the young girl, she looks down and away from her father’s eyes, planning her next words carefully. She speaks softly, “…Do you think I could ever be strong enough to join the hunt?” The young girl looked back up to her father’s brown eyes hopefully.

The old hunter takes a deep breath as he thinks over Cassandra’s question. The hunter never wanted his daughter to be anywhere near the dangers of the world, he’d prefer if she stayed safe in the village. “I believe that in order for you to join the hunt, you being strong enough to fight a wolf, it's best to head to bed now Cassandra.” The hunter looked down to his daughter’s blue eyes. “Books are useful for knowledge but they will do little in gaining your strength. You best stop reading late into the night and start following your bedtime. It’s late.”

The little girl sighs quietly as she looks down, disappointment clear upon her face. “Yes papá… Goodnight.” She climbs off of his lap and stands, walking up to the stairs and bends down to gently pick up her book, studying it for any creases as she heads upstairs to her bedroom.

“Goodnight Cassandra.”

As the snow fell through the night, not a soul was out of bed, as the howls of the wolf are the only reminder for every creature and man to hide from the hunger of the wolf. Cassandra wakes suddenly from her sleep, her eyes bleary as she rubs her eyes with her tiny fist in an attempt to fight off sleep. She gasps as the howl of the wolf pulling her from her dreamland. Sitting up, she looks to the window and sees the snow falling, and down below, a very large black animal was sniffing around the village, tail wagging.

The little girl quietly gets out of her bed, hissing at the cold wooden floor. She searches for her shoes before she leaves her room. Biting her lip as she passed her parents room, she grabbed her mother’s old cloak that was just barely short enough for her to avoid tripping on, before she descended down the stairs. She climbs onto a stool that was beneath a window, her eyes widening at the sight of the black dog.

The dog’s ear flicked to the side, before turning around. Trotting out of the village. Cassandra quickly climbed down the stool before walking to the front door. Just as she was about to reach the handle, she pauses. Her thoughts dancing in mind, with a deep breath, she opens the door.

Closing the door quietly behind her, from her porch she could see the dog running off. Pulling the hood over her head and wrapping the familiar warm cloth around herself, she walks in the cold snow, following it. The animal walks to the meadow, paw prints left on the snow. Her breath was clearly visible in the cold air. Turning around, she then looked behind her, she had walked so far. Cassandra winces at the thought of her father finding her out in the village in the middle of the night. Oh how much trouble she would be in. But, she was so close to the dog, it would be a waste to turn back now. With a nod in affirmation, she faced forward and continued on.

Quietly gasping, she spots paw prints in the snow, crouching down to look at the prints. The paw prints were the size of a full grown dog, she tilts her head to the side in curiosity as she presses her hand to the snow next to the prints. Ah, her hands matched the size of them. A very big dog then. She freezes in place as something rustles behind her. Her eyes wide in fear, her heart racing. She swallows thickly before she turns around oh so slowly.

A pair of blue eyes peek out, before it emerges from its hiding spot. Her eyes widen even more, slowly standing back up. Afraid to look away from the eyes. To so much as even turn her back. It was no dog. It was a wolf. The black wolf tilts their head. It wags their tail. Then, it whined before it lowered the front of its body with its tail wagging. As if, it wanted to play.

Cassandra’ head tilts in confusion at the sign. Did it want to… play? With her? Despite her fear, she couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at the actions of the pup. Though if it was in shock or in relief, she was uncertain. “... Do you want to play?”

The wolf bobs its head up and down in response. She looks at the wolf for a moment before she looks to the ground, searching for something to play with. Finding a stick, she grabs it tightly before she looks back to the wolf. She frowns lightly in concentration as she raises her arm to throw it. The wolf’s tail wagged as it shifted in excitement. Closing her eyes as she threw the stick, the wolf moved, then she quickly clasped her hands to her face. She couldn’t bear to watch the wolf change its mind and decide to eat her.

A small whine reached her ears. At a moment’s breath, she moved her hands away as she peaked. The wolf sat right in front of her, the stick right at her feet. She was alive.

Huh? Why hadn’t it tackled her? Maybe it wasn’t a wolf after all. It was still small to be a wolf. And Papá did say wolves had yellow eyes.

Cassandra lowered her hands as she looked at the dog’s eyes. They were so blue, they seemed… familiar. Why? The dog moved to the paw at the stick. With a small laugh, Cassandra continued their game. They played for an hour at best, before the dog stopped, its ears perking up.

“What’s wrong?”

The dog huffed before it trotted to Cassandra’s side, taking the cloak into its jaws as it began to pull the little girl back towards the village. She couldn’t help but scold the dog lightly as she was dragged along. The dog only stopped when they arrived right in front of her home. The dog promptly sat down as it turned its head to her, and she looked down to the dog. The dog was clearly smart. And knew where she lived. Cassandra decided she liked this dog very much, maybe Papa would let her keep it.

She walks up the steps to her porch as she waves to the dog. “Good night.”

The dog wags its tail before it trots off, pausing to look behind at the girl. Tail drooping when it saw that the girl hadn’t gone inside yet. It promptly sat down again. Sighing, the answer was obvious. Clearly she had to go inside. Cassandra waved once more before she quickly entered her home. Closing the door behind her, she climbs onto the stool from earlier to look out the window. There, she watches the dog head towards her friend’s Grandmere’s house in the forest. Just at the very edge of the village, at the start of the forest, the wolf turns into Rosabella, who looks around before she goes inside the cottage.

Her eyes widen as she watches the dog turn into a person. Not just any person. But… it couldn't be… “Rose?”

#Original story #Red Riding Hood #asunshinepuff ocs #our ocs #Rosabella Louve #Cassandra Azure #Royce Azure #Erinna Azure #Werewolves #curse #not my pic #Gregory #ladynightmare ocs

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trickster-4 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

Lilith stood there paralyzed as the demon in child form walked towards her sister. Her magic was gone snuffed out like a candle. Lilith couldn’t even a cast a spell to warm her body and she felt so.. cold.

“Such a monstrous creature .. I should make this permanent.. No, I won’t do that, it’s not what Eda would want..”

”That voice.... Her entire presence feels so dark...” Lilith felt horrified at the feeling of the human’s mind..

Warmth began to return to Lilith’s body and she slowly began to recover. Just in time to see a human child undoing her curse with ease.. Seconds after she begins to gawk at Luz who had reclaimed Eda’s staff and began to fly away.

Thirty minutes later…

“She is to be left alone..”

“Sir?”

“She altered the flow of your magic twisted it with ease..” Emperor Belos sat in the chair with a cold demeanor.. “Luz or whatever the entity wishes to call itself could have stripped the magic from your body as easily as breathing..”

“But isn’t she a danger?”

“Immensely so.. Nevertheless the power she possess though infinite could be taxing on her mind. Notice the duality she struggled with after casting such a spell.. The more power she accesses the more memories there is of this Shabragnido in her mind..” The Emperor shook his head at the idea of that. This entity was an unknown. Letting it loose was dangerous, but provoking it when it proved capable of damaging his palace despite his best spell? That was foolish..

“And my sister?”

“The same.. Keep your distance until this creature is gone or weakened..”

“.. Yes my lord..”

“The Human is dangerous, but can be maneuvered around... The instincts of this entity however.. It’s an animal it craves destruction...” The Emperor seemed fascinated and yet repulsed as he continued to described her true nature.. “And the scale of it’s appetite are for lack of a better word far reaching… I have never felt such sadism from any being.. She wanted you dead Lilith in a way a mere mortal cannot desire.. The only thing that held her back from finishing you off is Amity Blight..”

“Amity?”

“Love…” Bellow began to laugh cruelly.. His head shook with cruel mirth.. “Such a novel thing.. And so easily twisted.. Hard to believe such a malicious thing like Luz Noceda could love..”

There was a cruel cackle of laughter that echoed from the throne room. And all across the palace even the servants of the emperor shivered in fear.

Elsewhere…

Luz looked in the mirror trying to find anymore demonic features staring back.. She finally sighed in relief. Besides her red eyes and her shadow occasionally flickering between a demonic figure or a girl; Luz still looked human for the most part.

“What am I gonna do?”

“Kid don’t worry.. Word up the grapevine is that you’re not to be crossed..” Eda patted Luz on the shoulder trying her best to comfort the young girl.. “Apparently whatever show you put on has them spooked..”

“Great..” Luz smiled sarcastically.. “Hexside is gonna be awesome..”

The following day…

Luz was not used to being avoided like this. The countless eyes staring at her with fear and trepidation were unsettling. More so was the reverence some of the faculty and the older students were showing..

“Lord Ruby Eyes….” Principal Bump gave a bow as he passed Luz by. “We’ll attempt to keep classes normal as per your desires..”

“Thanks…” Luz continued to walk through the hallways only to come across Willow and Gus. She smiled at the sight of them and approached them. “Hey guys how are you doing?”

“Oh hey Luz.. We’re doing fine..” Willow seemed rather unsure of herself. Her family were of the old worshipers devoted to the first dragons. They knew of the battles between Ruby Eye and her Lord.. “I’m glad you made it out in one piece.”

“Thanks I’m glad you’re doing good as well..” Luz hugged Willow who was caught off guard but she embraced her friend tightly.. “You guys didn’t get in trouble did you?”

“Nope..”

“Our parents.. were concerned but they’re holding off judgment…”

“Judgment?”

“You’re kinda a religious figure in Old Witch lore..” Amity walked in with a small smile. She held several books upon approaching Luz.. “You made combat magic, curses, hexes, transformation magic, we owe you much and it’s terrifying having your legends walking among you.. Especially when there’s a lot of evidence you are who you say you are.. Your aura is old, ageless, and dark and you matched Emperor Bellows easily despite being a “human”.. No one wants to make a god angry.”

“But I’m not a god it’s just me..” Luz protested even as her shadow shifted once again to the notice of Willow and Guz.. She muttered annoyed and was about to protest. Suddenly it felt like static in her brain and there was the taste of copper in her mouth. Then Luz looked at her hands and saw they were soaked in blood.. “No…..” The girl couldn’t believe what she was seeing and was distrusted by it.. “No No No No NO NO NO..”She ran towards the water fountain.

The girl scrubbed and scrubbed trying to get the blood off. She heard the crying of children and death screams of countless people. It hurt, it hurt so much and to feel that to understand that was absolute torture..

“Please stop it Luz!!”

You gotta stop Luz..”

“Luz!”

How many people did she kill as Shabragnido? How many jealous husband cursed their wives using her spells? How many kings sacrificed their children for power in her name. How many civilizations did she lay to waste just because she enjoyed doing it?

“Please stop Luz!”

“Your hurting yourself please stop Luz!!”

“LUZ!!”

Luz finally stopped scrubbing. There was never any blood she finally realized that. Though her hands was heavily rubbed raw and shaking. “Amity…” She grabbed her friend tightly and began to cry..

“It’s going to be okay Luz..” Amity promised..

The classes were thankfully over quickly though Luz had to lean on Amity constantly for her support.

That Afternoon..

“Well I figured something like this could happen.. Luz’s old life is ancient. And reawakening her powers has caused those memories to unspool. It’s not gonna be an easy job.”

“But you can do it right?” Amity looked at her crush’s mentor.

“Of course I can, best witch on the boiling isles here..” Eda boasted before sighing looking tired. Despite the fact that physically she felt great and had even regained her red hair; the witch was exhausted after making this artifact. Hopefully this would block out her old memories for a short time.. “Now once the spells have set this will keep your past from rearing it’s ugly head during the day. But you need to take it off later after school it has to recharge after eight hours.. Also your mind needs to deal with these memories Luz..”

A black head band glowed yellow mysteriously in Eda’s hands..

“Are you sure!?”

“Yes and I’m serious this could cause damage to your mind..” Eda gave her apprentice a stern no nonsense gaze. She wouldn’t budge on this in the slightest and upon seeing the over enthusiasm for the artifact put it into a jewelry box and locked it.. “You’ll take it off after school and you’ll be doing mental exercises with Amity and me for a few months..”

“Exercises?”

“Excuse me?”

“After your little excursion last time into Willow’s mind. I think you get the gist of it..” Eda leaned down to Luz and hugged her tightly for a moment. “It’s something similar but you two are gonna do deep diving and organizing of Luz’s old memories.. It’s going to be hard.. But, it’ll get easier and eventually you won’t need those little tuneups..”

“So this is not a permanent thing?”

“No it’s just a matter of helping Luz’s mind deal with the impending shift in gears.. Once that’s done she can heal naturally..”

“Oh thank goodness…”

“Why? Are you worried about seeing your crush’s mind?”

“Shh Luz doesn’t know that!!” Amity blushed angrily as she looked towards Luz who still seemed to be stuck in her thoughts. Thankfully she heard nothing.. “She’s going through a lot right now!! Luz can hear about that later..”

“Sure just don’t wait too long. Last thing we really need is a love triangle..”

Amity glared at Eda even as she fought to keep her face from blushing hard. She couldn’t believe her teacher and this woman were related..

“There’s something that I’m wondering about… Is Shabragnido really me?” Luz looked towards her shoes trying to avoid seeing what form her shadow was taking on at the moment. ”Part of me says yes…Or am I just a vessel for him? I feel things he felt, remember things he experienced. But, this goes beyond just sympathy or empathy doesn’t it?”

“There’s no one else in there Luz..” Eda waved off her concerns of identity.. She held her apprentice’s gaze with a compassionate smile. For a brief moment her eyes glowed yellow for a few seconds. “Frankly your soul looks different.. At some angles it looks human, and others it looks like an overpowered demon.. But, it’s just you Luz.. There’s just more to you than you actually knew about.”

“What if I go full demon? What I get swallowed up in all these memories..” Luz’s eyes began to tear up only for Amity to take hold of her shoulder and smile. “Thank you Amity..”

“No problem it’s what friends are for..”

“Now then let’s get started.. Here’s hoping you kids don’t land into one of Luz’s fantasies..”

“What?!” The two girls screamed before they both faded into Luz’s mind. Eda shook her head laughing to herself. There was a sudden knock at the door she tensed for a moment before summoning her staff. The Elder Witch opened the door slightly.

“Who’s there?”

“H-Hello… Eda..”

“Leave Lilith.. You weren’t welcome here, but now my policy is shoot to kill on sight..” Eda glared at her sister with a cold unfeeling stare. She felt her mind shift to a number of deadly spells. “You’re dead to me.. Get away from my house. Go wherever you want to go, but to me Lilith Clawthorne died at age fourteen..”

“Eda..”

“I will never forgive you..”

Lilith’s head began to ring as those words rippled through her mind. The words that she never wanted to hear from her sister and haunted her darkest dreams.. Those words that were never spoken until today. I will never forgive you. I will never forgive. I will never forgive you. I will never forgive you. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!!!

Luz’s mind...

Luz and Amity slammed the door on the door. They were both blushing heavily and sweating while they walked away unable to look each other in the eye. Amity never knew Luz had such an attentive and creative imagination when it came to those things..

“Okay...” Amity looked a thousand miles away her face was blushing pink. She stared blankly ahead trying not to remember that vivid scene. Nope we are not thinking about. It’s Luz’s fantasy and I am not going to comment about it!! “Let’s just try to get into your memories and put things in order..”

“Soooo let’s get started..” Luz looked ahead towards a greek looking door.. She felt that it was new a recent emergence into her mind. “That place looks like a good place to start.”

“Ancient Atlantis… Whoa..”

“What?”

“Sorry it’s just a bit of a sore spot for witches one of the most magically developed civilizations.. Now we’re getting a look at those days..” Amity smiled excitedly. She took Luz’s hand into her own. “It’s a huge deal think of the discoveries that we can make..”

“I can’t believe that Atlantis actually real..”

They walked into the streets of an Grecian like city. Luz and Amity were in awe of the architecture. Water flowed through various aqueducts buildings were being built in seconds through magic. They were quickly approaching a black stone temple. Luz flinched at the sight of Shabragnido’s statues..

“Huh, I’ve never actually seen what Lord Ruby Eyes looked like ..”

“… So where is he? I mean where am I?”

The two girls suddenly heard the sound of laughter in the streets below the temple. They followed the sound until they saw a little girl playing with a strange horned brown rabbit with ruby eyes.. The rabbit was glumly silently even as he was forced into an embrace by the child. For a moment they actually saw a glimmer of enjoyment in it’s eyes..

“Damn my idiot of a brother..”

“Wait is that supposed to be me!? Why am I so adorable?!!”

#luz owl house #owl house #eda the owl witch #the owl house #fanfic #slayers #dragon slave #luz is shabranigdo

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ahatintimestorybook · 4 years ago

Text

Secret in the Treehouse Chap.2 Painted Flowers

Here is the next chapter and a happy new year as well (depending where you are as its still New Year's eve where I am)

Also I named the Painter, Peter before Shane-Frost revealed the Painter’s real name.

Well, Enjoy!

“Peter! Come on!” A young girl shouted to her friend. The young girl had red hair tied into a braid that was covered with leaves and twigs. She wore a light blue dress and tan overalls.

Peter, a young boy wearing a red apron over a dark blue shirt with a crescent moon on it, was starting to get tired following his best friend around. His clothes were muddy, and like the young girl, his hair had some leaves and twigs as well. “Willow, do we have to go deeper into the forest?” Peter whined. “I mean, it's just a flower!”

Willow stopped in her tracks and turned to face her friend. “Just a flower!” She growled. “Peter, this is one of the rarest flowers in Subcon! They won’t bloom again for another 100 years!” She exclaimed. Peter gulped and stepped back from his friend. Willow sighed, calming down a bit. “Sorry. I just want to find this flower for my mom.” She apologized.

Peter sighed back seeing she had calmed down. However, he didn’t want to walk deeper into the forest, knowing whatever was there, just for a flower. “Does it have to be deep into Subcon?” He asked.

“That’s what my book told me.” Willow replied. “We're not too far away, so let’s hurry!” Willow then ran off, surprising Peter, who then started to run after his friend.

“Willow, wait!” Peter shouted, trying to catch up, but she was faster. He didn’t look where he was running, and he tripped on a nearby root and fell to the ground with a thud.

Willow stopped in her tracks to see her friend had fallen and was struggling to get up. Sympathizing with Peter, Willow walked up to him and held her hand out for him. “Sorry.” She apologized. “I forgot you're not the best runner.”

Peter took his friend’s hand and stood up giving her a smile. “It’s okay. Just please slow down next time.” He requested. Willow nodded, promising to slow down a bit. The two friends were ready to continue looking for the rare flower, but they stopped at the sound of rustling in the nearby bushes. Peter whimpered and went behind the Florist’s back, shaking like a leaf.

“Stay behind me, Peter. This could be a Rough Patch!” Willow warned. She grabbed the stick she was using as her weapon and waited for whatever was coming out of the bushes.

However, it wasn’t a Rough Patch, but instead Lucas and Vanessa. Peter screamed in fear before even seeing who it actually was, and hid behind a tree. Willow slowly lowered her stick as she looked up at the duo. “P-princess Vanessa?” Willow asked.

“T-The princess?” Peter asked, popping his head out from behind the tree. He quickly came out, seeing there was no Rough Patch, but a princess. “Your majesty,” he said, giving a bow. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you two.” Lucas spoke up. He then turned to Willow and nodded, knowing she was the missing girl. “Your mother is worried for you.”

Willow glared and crossed her arms at the stranger. “How do you know my mother?” She asked.

“She told us that you and your friend,” He gestured towards Peter, “were missing, and I told her I’d find you guys.” Lucas explained. Willow raised an eyebrow, which made Lucas decide that maybe he should introduce himself. “Oh, I’m Lucas, by the way. I’m the future prince of Subcon.”

Willow chuckled. “Well then future prince,” She spat. “I’m Willow, and this is Peter.” She introduced herself and her friend, who gave a small wave. “We’re currently looking for a rare flower that blooms every 100 years, for my mom.” She explained.

“Oh!” Lucas realized. “Well, do you need any help?”

Willow’s eyes widen at Lucas’s offer. “Why would the future prince and princess of Subcon want to help us?” Willow asked.

“Because we’re the future rulers and it would be nice to help our future subjects no matter what!”

Willow thought about it for a bit, and turned towards Peter. She grabbed him and pulled him away from the royal kids. “Think they should help us?” Willow asked.

Peter thought for a second, and nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt.” He said, sheepishly. Willow groaned, but seeing it be nice company, she’d agreed to it. She was ready to speak with Lucas only to see the young prince and Vanessa in a discussion as well.

“I don’t know about this, my prince.” Vanessa doubted. Even though they were her subjects, what would her mother say when she found out she went deep into Subcon Forest?

“Come on, Nessa. I know we found them and we’re supposed to bring her back, but this girl wants to help her mom.” Lucas begged. “Could we please help them?”

Vanessa wasn’t sure what to think. Does she want to help Willow and her friend go deep into Subcon Forest, and disappoint her mother? Or does she want to be seen as a good ruler who would care to help her people in need? She looked into her prince’s eyes, which sparkled like stars. Sighing, and not caring what her mother will have to say, she gave a nod.

“Guess we could help them.” Vanessa said, uncertainty.

Lucas smiled. “Great!” He exclaimed. He took Vanessa’s hand and took her to Willow and Peter who were waiting on them. “Alright, I spoke with the princess and we would love to help you guys!”

Willow crossed her arms, but her glare faded. “I guess you could help us.” Willow sighed.

“Thanks.” Lucas replied. “So, what’s this rare flower you're looking for?”

“It’s called a Latent Pansy. A purple and yellow pansy that blooms in Subcon every 100 years!” Willow explained.

Vanessa gasped. “I’ve heard of that flower! In Subcon legends, it says that whoever picks the flower will bring luck to their family for generations to come!” She explained.

“Well I want it for my mother’s flower kart. I want luck on my side so our small little kart will be a big and fancy flower shop one day.” Willow explained.

“Well then, let’s find this flower!” Lucas exclaimed.

Willow smiled and held up the stick like it was a sword, claiming herself the leader of this mission. “Alright team! Let’s go!” She shouted. The kids then followed her deeper into Subcon Forest.

It felt like hours had passed, and the four Subcon kids still haven’t found the Latent Pansy yet. Soon the sun started to set at the horizon, bathing the forest in its glow.. Peter gulped seeing how dark the forest was getting. “S-should we head back home now?” Peter whimpered.

“Don’t worry, we should be close.” Willow reassured her friend.

“How far in Subcon do these flowers even grow?” Lucas asked.

“Deep, very deep into Subcon. So deep that I’m not even allowed to go.” Vanessa explained.

Willow turned to the princess. “Well, you are the princess of Subcon, your freedom is limited to your manor.” She replied.

Vanessa stopped in her tracks and glared at Willow. “I’m not just stuck in my manor all day! I have my freedom in Subcon and beyond too.”

“So then why can’t you go deep into Subcon Forest?”

“W-Well…” Vanessa trailed off, rubbing her arm. Before Vanessa could answer, a snap of a branch caught the kid’s attention. “What was that?!” Vanessa asked. The kids huddled close together just in case the thing that snapped the branch would attack them.

A growl came from the bushes, making Peter and Vanessa cry in fear. Then from out of the bushes a small cat-like creature with a bush for a body popped out hissing at them. Peter screamed and held onto Willow’s arm tight. The latter glared and raised her stick at the creature.

“A Rough Patch!” Willow shouted.

“A what?” Lucas asked.

“Rough Patches are cat-like creatures who are very hostile in Subcon. They attack anyone that’s near their territory.” Vanessa explained.

The Rough Patch snarled making everyone step back. However, it paused when seeing Lucas, tilting its head towards him. The young prince was confused as the Rough Patch made his way toward him with no aggressive body language, while Willow, Vanessa and Peter whimpered in fear. The cat-like creature sniffed Lucas’s shoe, before nuzzling and purring on his lake.

The Subcon residents were confused why Lucas isn’t being attacked by Rough Patch, but rather the latter being sweet and snuggly towards him. The young prince kneeled down and gave the creature a pet. “Its fur is soft.” Lucas commented.

“C-Careful!” Vanessa shouted. “Rough Patches are dangerous!”

Lucas looked down at the little critter, who just softly purred on his lap. “Doesn’t look dangerous to me.” Lucas replied, continuing to give the creature some pets. After giving the Rough Patch some love, Lucas saw something from the bushes the creature came out of. He walked over to it and saw a field of purple and yellow pansies; Latent Pansies.

“Are these Latent Pansies?” Lucas asked. Willow, Peter and Vanessa went and looked over the bushes and smiled seeing the flowers blooming all over the forest floor.

Willow smiled seeing the flowers right in front of her. “Those are the Latent Pansies!” Willow exclaimed. She went through the bushes and looked at the beautiful purple and yellow flowers blooming around them. Looking to see which flower looked perfect to pick, she picked a Latent Pansy that had an equal amount of purple and yellow on its petals, as well as a perfectly balanced size.

Vanessa picked out a few Latent Pansies as well to bring home. “Okay.” Peter spoke up. “Now can we go home? Please?” He shouted. The kids looked up and saw night had just fallen over Subcon, and before one of them could say yes, they dashed out of the flower field and headed back in the direction they came from.

“Quickly, we better make it home before my mother finds-” Vanessa was cut off when she and the kids stopped in their tracks to see their parents with a mix of worry and disappointment in their face. “Us.”

“Willow! Peter!” Willow’s mother exclaimed, hugging the two of them. “Are you two okay?” She asked.

“We’re fine!” Willow replied. Even though Willow and Peter were fine, that didn’t mean Vanessa was fine as the two kids saw how scared the princess was facing her mother.

“Vanessa!” Elizabeth shouted. “What in the name of Subcon were you doing deep into the forest!? Don’t you know how dangerous it is!?”

“I-I know mother.” Vanessa stuttered. “I didn’t mean too I was only just-“ Vanessa was cut off by her mother’s shouting.

“Disobeying orders!” Elizabeth shouted. The queen felt Autumn hold her back, in hopes of calming her down.

Lucas looked at Vanessa, seeing she was about to cry due to her mother’s actions. Determined to help his future queen, he went up to the current one. “It wasn’t Vanessa’s fault.” Elizabeth and Willow’s mother turned to the young boy talking. Vanessa gasped, wondering what her prince was going to do. “It was my idea to go there. You see, Willow and Peter were looking for Latent Pansies, and I wanted to help them. Vanessa was trying to stop me because she was not allowed to go, but I made her follow with us regardless.” He explained.

Vanessa’s eyes glistened as a stray tear fell from her face. She realized he was defending her.

“So if anyone should be in trouble, it should be me.” Lucas finished.

Elizabeth was still angry her daughter disobeyed orders, but stepped back seeing Lucas explaining everything to her. “Elizabeth,” Autumn spoke up. “They are just kids. I think tonight they should be let go with a warning.”

“Plus, they weren’t hurt, your majesty.” Willow’s mother added quickly.

The queen glanced at her friend and her subject, and nodded. “Vanessa. Let’s go home.” She spoke up not giving her daughter a single glance. Vanessa nodded and followed her mother with Lucas following close behind.

Seeing how the royal family was heading home, Willow’s mother took her daughter and Peter’s hand and took them home too. “Come on let’s get you two to bed.” She said.

“Okay mom.” Willow replied.

#ahit fanfic #Secret in the Treehouse #ahit the painter #ahit moonjumper #ahit the florist #queen vanessa #ahit the prince #ahit queen elizabeth #ahit queen vanessa's mother

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aion-rsa · 5 years ago

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Most Anticipated Non-Western Fantasy Books of 2019

https://ift.tt/2ouKBy1

It's a great time to be a fan of fantasy literature, as the genre makes more space for epics told outside of the western perspective.

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While I love a good epic fantasy read where an unassuming, usually male, usually white farmboy learns of his great destiny to save the world, there are so many fantasy stories that exist outside of that framework.

One of my favorite ways to see fantasy genre tropes subverted is by taking the usual feudal European-like setting of the "traditional" epic fantasy saga and throwing it out the window in favor of mythic tropes that are less familiar to western fantasy readers. After all, Game of Thrones is great, but we tend to overrepresent Eurocentric, medieval-inspired stories in the epic fantasy world. There are so many other kinds of stories out there waiting to be told and heard.

read more: Best New Young Adult Books

This standalone YA #OwnVoices fantasy, which has the possibility of more novels to follow set in the same world, follows Hesina as she breaks the laws of her nation by enlisting a soothsayer and a criminal to help her determine who to trust, and who must be punished.

Read Descandant of the Crane by Joan He

Upon a Burning Throne by Ashok K. Banker

In promotional blurbs, Banker is called a pioneer of fantasy in his home country of India, and Upon a Burning Throne is based on the ancient classic, The Mahabharata, full of demigods and demons and battles for the throne. Although princes Adri and Shvate are royals, they must pass the Test of Fire if they want to inherit the throne.

read more: 9 Fantasy Books Set at Magical Boarding School

To make matters more complicated, a half-demon girl claims to have the right to take the test as well. When the girl is not allowed to claim any power after passing the Test, her demon father declares war on the Empire, threatening to tear the world apart. This #OwnVoices series is set for seven volumes, so get ready for an epic fantasy saga stretching over thousands of pages.

Read Upon a Burning Throne by Ashok K. Banker

The Tiger at Midnight by Swati Teerdhala

An assassin and a soldier get tangled in a civil war in this #ownvoices fantasy steeped in Indian history and Hindu mythology. Viper, an assassin fighting alongside the rebels, is how Esha hides her identity. No one knows that she, who lost so much in the royal coup, is the legendary assassin.

Kunal is a soldier, unquestioning in his orders to support the king, even while he longs for life outside the army. When Viper is on a mission to kill General Hotha, Kunal’s controlling uncle, the pair become involved in events on a grander scale, and no one is really sure who is directing all the pieces of this deadly game... This is listed as book one of the trilogy, so expect more cat and mouse games as the story progresses.

Read The Tiger at Midnight by Swati Teerdhala

May

The Candle and the Flame by Nafiza Azad

In this YA feminist fantasy, set along the Silk Road, the city of Noor is destroyed by Shayateen djinn; only Fatima and two other humans survived the attack. Now, a restored Noor is protected by Ifrit djinn, who represent order and reason.

But their protection does not remove all the danger: when one of the Ifrit is killed, Fatima is forever changed, and she finds herself drawn into the political intrigues of the maharajah and his sister—and onto the magical battlefield. Azad’s #OwnVoices tale features fiercely independent women, and a cosmopolitan Silk Road city striving to find harmony within its myriad cultures.

Read The Candle and the Flame by Nafiza Azad

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal

It isn’t easy to be a legend. Zafira is the Hunter; by taking on a man’s role to feed her people, she can never reveal that she’s a girl, or everything she has done will be rejected. Nasir is the Prince of Death, a deadly assassin who punishes the enemies of his father, the king, despite his own tendency toward compassion.

Both Zafira and Nasir believe that an artifact can stop the incursion of the Arz, a cursed forest that expands by the day. Zafira, as the Hunter, sets out to find it; Nasir is ordered to retrieve it—and to kill the Hunter. Set in a fantastical Arabia, filled with cultures and beliefs that reflect the diversity of the real-world region, this #ownvoices YA series starter features lyrical prose and an enemies-to-lovers romance.

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal

Nocturna by Maya Motayne

First in an #OwnVoices fantasy trilogy set in a Latinix-inspired world, Nocturna introduces Finn, a face shifter, who has been in and out of so many disguises over the years she’s practically forgotten what her own face looks like. Unfortunately, she crosses the wrong mobster, and she’s given a choice: succeed at a heist inside Castallan’s royal palace, or have her magic stripped away.

Prince Alfehr faces the dilemma of trying to live up to his dead brother’s role as heir to the throne; feeling as though he will forever fail at that role, Alfie would far rather dabble in forbidden magics on the hope of bringing his brother back. When the two of them accidentally unleash an ancient evil, they have to become a team to stop it from destroying the entire world.

Read Nocturna by Maya Motayne

June

The Last Tsar's Dragon by Jane Yolen and Adam Stemple

Set during the Russian revolution, this novella features dragons as tactical weapons, giving it the feel of a historical fiction that happens to have dragons involved in the plot. Yolen and Stemple explore the Romanov family history, as well as royal conspiracies and the revolutions of Jews and Bolsheviks during the October Revolution. For fans of this mother-son duo, it's a chance to delve into historical intrigue.

Unraveling by Karen Lord

Told in a contemporary setting, Lord's newest fantasy could easily be called a psychological thriller. Dr. Miranda Ecouvou has helped put a serial killer behind bars, but there's more to the world than she realized—and now Chance and the Trickster have enlisted her to look more deeply into the seven unusual murders. The plot and world are both labyrinthine, steeped in #ownvoices Caribbean storytelling.

July

Shatter the Sky by Rebecca Kim Wells

You might have heard something about "that angry feminist bisexual dragon YA fantasy novel" on the Internet, and that's a description that Wells has embraced wholeheartedly for her new series starter. In Shatter the Sky, Maren and Kaia expect to live a quiet life—but then the emperor's prophets steal Kaia away to join them, and it's up to Maren to rescue her girlfriend. She's determined to do it, too, even if the only way to rescue Kaia is to steal a dragon from the emperor and storm the fortress of his prophets on her own. While there's a lot in Shatter the Sky that fits into the traditions of western fantasy (including Tamora Pierce and Mercedes Lackey), but the worldbuilding includes #ownvoices Asian influences as well.

David Mogo, Godhunter by Suyi Davies Okungbowa

This #ownvoices urban fantasy is set in Lagos, Nigeria, in an age in which thousands of gods fell to Earth during a war. David Mogo is a demigod and a freelance Godhunter. But he takes a bad gig when he agrees to catch a god for an Eko wizard—who turns around and decides to rule Lagos himself. The three sections of the novel intertwine, but each has a distinct arc, almost like separate novellas. But together, they show David's journey of self-discovery as he deals with his own feelings of abandonment and defines for himself what it means to be a demigod.

Jade War by Fonda Lee

The Green Bone Saga continues in this sequel to the World Fantasy Award-winning Jade City. The Kaul family battles for control of the capital city of Kekon, and over the jade that allows Green Bone warriors to maintain their supernatural powers. But the conflict within Kekon is only a hint at the conflicts beyond the island's borders. Other nations have become interested in the properties of Kekon's magical jade, and the Kaul family must decide whether to band together, or whether to make new and more dangerous alliances to rise to the top. This #ownvoices Asian-inspired fantasy surpasses the first in the series, delving more deeply into Lee's world.

July

The Rage of Dragons by Evan Winter

If a Xhosa-inspired revenge fantasy sounds up your alley, this #ownvoices debut may be exactly what you're looking for. Originally self-published in 2017, The Rage of Dragons got picked up by Orbit in a new edition for July 2019 publication. The story is set in a world of war, where those rare gifted—one in two thousand women can call the dragons, one in one hundred men can magically transform into a superhuman killer—wage battles, using the rest of their people as fodder. Ungifted Tau's greatest desire is to get injured early on so he can settle down and raise a family. But when everyone he cares about is slaughtered, his goals change: he will be come the greatest swordsman in order to get revenge on the three people who betrayed him.

The Ascent to Godhood by J. Y. Yang

The fourth in Yang's "Tensorate" series of novellas, The Ascent to Godhood explores how the Protector, now dead, came to power—and why her greatest enemy, Lady Han, mourns her death. Yang's series falls into a space that is almost serial fiction (we include it in our serial roundup), because the novellas are a shorter length, and the story and world grow with each new addition.

Fans of this #OwnVoices silkpunk saga are sure to enjoy seeing how it all began—and new readers might find this a good jumping in point for the series.

Read The Ascent to Godhood by J.Y. Yang

Spin the Dawn by Elizabeth Lim

There’s something going on with stitching and magic in recent fantasy, but this #OwnVoices novel features both tailors and a girl-disguised-as-boy fantasy story with echoes of Mulan. Drawing inspiration from Chinese culture, Lim creates an Imperial Court where the competition over who will become the imperial tailor—and where Maia is at risk of being executed if anyone discovers that a girl is vying for the job.

Things get even worse when the court magician takes an interest in her, because he almost certainly knows the truth. Set with the task to sew three impossible gowns, one from the laughter of the sun, one from the moon’s tears, and the third from the blood of stars, Maia departs on a journey that will either save her family, or end her life.

Given that the book is marked as the first of a series, one can only hope that Maia will survive to stitch her way through future installments.

Read Spin the Dawn by Elizabeth Lim

August

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Though this one isn't set wholly in a fantasy world, I couldn't miss out on including a Jazz Age underworld epic. Casiopea Tun dreams of life beyond her small town in Mexico, but those dreams didn't prepare her for freeing the Mayan god of death and following him into the Mayan underworld to reclaim his throne.

With parts of the novel set in Mexico City and the Yucatán and other pars set in the darkness of the Mayan land of the dead, this #OwnVoices novel is at the top of my TBR list.

Read Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Morena-Garcia

The Dragon Republic by R. F. Kuang

The sequel to Kuang's celebrated The Poppy War, the novel follows shaman and warrior Rin, now addicted to opium, traumatized by her own actions at the end of the Poppy War, and hiding from her god.

In order to get revenge on the Empress, Rin allies with the Dragon Warlord to take over her home country—but Rin learns that her new ally's motivations may not be for the good of the nation after all. Kuang uses some real-world events from twentieth century China as inspiration for an #OwnVoices fantasy full of magic and monsters.

Read The Dragon Republic by R.F. Kuang

September

The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas

If you can't wait for the 2020 live action Mulan, starring Liu Yifei, keep an eye out for this YA wuxia retelling by Chinese-American author Sherry Thomas. A cover reveal posted at Hypable also offered an excerpt packed full of martial arts action. Catching arrows? This #OwnVoices Mulan is definitely going to be our action hero.

Read The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas

Kingdom of Souls by Rena Barron

Arrah doesn't have the knack for her witchdoctor family's magic. But when the Kingdom's children start to disappear, she's not going to let the mystery go unsolved. But this is no simple crime spree: the Demon King is waking, and Arrah may be the only one to stop him—if she's willing to sell years of her life to gain the magic it will take to defeat him. This #ownvoices fantasy sets witchdoctors and demons and an over-ambitious mother in the path of a heroine who's willing to tackle it all to save the world.

A Hero Born by Jin Yong

It might be a stretch to consider this classic Chinese epic truly a fantasy novel, but if you love a good kung fu epic, this is absolutely a thing you need on your list. Stretching from the Song Empire to the rule of Genghis Khan, the novel follows Guo Jing, a Song patriot who joined Genghis Khan. But a greater destiny awaits him, and he must learn from the Seven Heroes of the South in order to take up the mantle of his fate.

Steel Crow Saga by Paul Krueger

Krueger explores the role of colonization in this #ownvoices Asian-inspired fantasy epic. The nation of Tomoda has, until recently, been a colonial power. The Sanbunas have recently won a war that freed them from Tomoda. It means that Jimuro, heir to Tomoda's throne, should despise Tala, one of the Sabuna soldiers escorting him back to him to his home nation. But the two of them are thrown together, along with a detective-and-Shang-princess-in-disguise, Xiulan, and her thief partner, Lee. The four of them team together to defeat a killer using more powerful magic than the world has ever seen—and, along the way, forge friendships that could change the progression of their entire world.

October

The Never Tilting World by Rin Chupeco

Climate change can be a threat even in a fantasy world, and here, a goddess has sent the world spinning into a climate shift that causes rifts between nations. Half of the world is cloaked in night, and the other half burns with daylight. The two goddesses who rule the world each have a daughter, and both have kept their secrets about which twin goddess betrayed their world.

These young goddesses are called back to the site of where it all happened... and determined to undo the damage their mothers have caused. The daytime desert setting features sandworms and sand dolphins (which is enough to put it on my TBR list right there), and the author has noted her inspiration from both Mad Max and Avatar: The Last Airbender. The worldbuilding itself is less referential to real-world mythologies, and some advance reviewers are saying it's like nothing they've ever read before. We can't help but consider that a good thing.

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy

Eva and her sister Isa must face each other in mortal combat to decide who takes the throne, because in Myre, only the strongest is fit to be the queen. Eva has magick of both marrow and bone, a rare power, but it means that her sister may not be the only one who wants her dead.

Eva must rely on a fey instructor and a khimaer prince to teach her how to wield her own magick before it's too late. But Eva's biggest challenge may be facing the sister she still loves and fighting her to the death, because only one of them can survive. Based on a North African setting, this debut fantasy doesn't shy away from the dark and bloody, whether in magick or politics.

November

The Deep by Rivers Solomon

Inspired by the song of the same title, written by Hamilton original cast member Daveed Diggs and his fellow hip-hop artists William Huston and Jonathan Snipes, Solomon’s novel takes place under the water, where generations of African slave women live now-idyllic lives, their pasts forgotten.

Only Yetu, the people’s historian, remembers the truth of their past. But the weight of the memories is destroying her, so Yetu tries to flee to the surface—only to gain the understanding that if her people are to survive, they must begin to remember for themselves. Solomon, author of the science fiction novel An Unkindness of Ghosts as well as a writer on Serial Box serial The Vela, shows their versatility with this switch into this #OwnVoices fantasy.

Read The Deep by Rivers Solomon

The Impossible Contract by K.A. Doore

Doore's Chronicles of Ghadid continue as Thana, daughter of the Serpent, takes up her first assassination contract to prove her worth. Her target, Heru, is a dangerous sorcerer, and Thana isn't the only one who wants him dead. When a rival sends an undead horde to attach Heru and Thana both, Thana has no choice but to follow her target into the empire that threatens her own nation. Following a different main character from the first book in the series, The Perfect Assassin, the novel still relies on the world building of the first in this Arabian-flavored setting, so pick up book one before this one hits the shelves.

Realm of Ash by Tasha Suri

Last year's Empire of Sand told the story of Mehr, daughter of an imperial governor and a mother who is one of the outcast and oppressed Amrithi people, descendants of desert spirits. Because Mehr can work desert magic, the deathless Emperor and his advisers take her captive, force her to marry, and try to break her spirit. But when Mehr discovers their plot for her magic, she stands against the tide. In Realm of Ash, Mehr's younger sister Arwa is now an adult, widowed in a massacre she only survived due to her Amrithi heritage. To try to free the Empire from a curse, she forms an allegiance with the disgraced prince, and they travel to the Realm of Ash, seeking to to find answers in the ghostly memories of their ancestors. This #ownvoices sequel returns to the South Asian inspired desert lands of the Ambhan Empire, giving readers new aspects of its world to explore.

Queen of the Conquered by Kacen Callendar

Set in a Carribean-inspired fantasy world, this #OwnVoices novel follows Sigourney Rose, last heir to a murdered noble family. Her people have been enslaved and massacred by colonizers for generations, and Sigourney, who has the power to control minds, is ready to take her revenge. But as she manipulates herself into the royal island and among the colonizers, she realizes a sinister magic is killing the ruling families, and she herself may be a target.

Callender’s excellent middle-grade novel, Hurricane Child, had an understated sense of fantasy and a beautifully grounded depiction of the islands, family, and same-sex budding romance. While I expect the fantasy aspects in Queen of the Conquered to be much stronger, I hope that we’ll see more of those earlier strengths.

Read Queen of the Conquered by Kheryn Callender

December

Children of Virtue and Vengeance by Tomi Adeyemi

If you're like us here at Den of Geek, you've already taken the quiz to find out your Maji clan and you've put the date for this release, the sequel to last year's Children of Blood and Bone, on your calendar in big red pen. We're ready to get back into the world of the Orisha and find out what happens next with Zélie and Amari now that they've brought magic back into the world.

Step one is securing Amari's throne—so that Orisha's maji clans can be safe from persecution. Can't wait until December? You've got time to read Adeyemi's first #ownvoices African-centered fantasy over again!

In the Works

Choice of Games, publisher of interactive, multiple-choice novels, has two forthcoming non-western fantasy apps in production. (Disclosure: I also have multiple-choice novels published by Choice of Games, but I’m not involved in either of these projects!)

Keep an eye out for #OwnVoices Destined for Greatness, by Yasmine Fahmy, in which the reader directs the actions of a main character who keeps company with a djinn, flies magical carpets, and has to save the city of Ghariba from a nefarious dragon; and Tale of Two Cranes by Michelle and Stepanie Balaban, in which the main character helps shape the course of a battle between two warring nobles (based on the historical civil war between the Han and Qin dynasties) in an ancient China filled with magic.

What non-western fantasies are you most looking forward to this year? What did we miss? Let us know—we’ll keep updating this piece as we find them!

Alana Joli Abbott writes about books for Den of Geek. Read more of her work here.

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The Lists

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Alana Joli Abbott

Oct 10, 2019

Fantasy Books

from Books https://ift.tt/2M1RxM4

#aion-rsa #Books

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istill-loveyou39 · 6 years ago

Text

The Story Begins...

So I’ve decided today is the day! I’m not going to be a chicken shit and I’m going to post what I’ve been working on.

I suppose its a fanfic but it’s more of an adventure. I took the Queen crest with horoscope figures and made them into original characters. Set in the land of Rhye, two fairy siblings have to journey away from home to stop a coming calamity, the Black Queen. Each of my characters of based off of someone, however loosely. There’s also a ton of song references and Queen details in there! It’s just something I couldn’t stop thinking about and had to write down. Something fun!

I hope ya’ll like it. I take criticism. Sometimes without crying! Haha! Let me know what you think???

Words 1969

Chapter 1: Lazing On a Sunday Afternoon

Rys placed her leather bound book on her lap and lifted her face to the sun. The warm beams made their way through the leaves on the tree in which she sat to heat her cheeks. Summer had just begun in Rys' town of Lily Valley and she was taking advantage of the lazy hot days. Nestled in her favorite reading spot, a crook in the branch of a weeping willow, Rys took a moment to look out between the vines. Everything was green and full of life, making the valley look surreal. Large lily fields surrounded her perch, their pure white petals reflecting the sun and making them almost hard to gaze upon.

Located in the southern plains of Rhye, Lily Valley was inhabited by the fairy folk. Preferring the warmer climate to the frosty mountains of the north, the fairies thrived in the grasslands, planting and harvesting the crop that gave the town its name.

Rys always felt as ease in Lily Valley, especially when the sun was shining and she had a good book to sink into.

As Rys let her brown eyes laze over the horizon, she noticed a figure moving in through the lilies, picking its way carefully toward her. The messy brown mop of hair Rys recognized as her only sibling, Tin. Taller and more athletic than her, Tin sprinted towards her perch without any real effort. She was always jealous of his ability to make anything look easy.

"Hello sister dear!" Tin said in his sing song voice, the one he saved for her. Tin had always been a shy kid but he opened up around his close family and friends, especially Rys. Rys was Tin's best friend and she was his. They were two years apart but Rys felt that even if the years were greater, they would still remain close.

"Tin! How did you know I was here?" Rys inquired.

"What a ridiculous question Rys. I know your spots." Smirking, Tin tapped her dangling leg with a long slender finger. Rys liked to think she kept her secret reading spots as they were - secret. But she was sure Tin knew them all like he stated.

"What brings you to the outskirts of Lily Valley then brother?"

"Oh I just wanted to take a walk, enjoy the fresh air and sun." A devilish grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Rys rolled her eyes and glared back at her older brother, knowing full well this was not the reason he was here.

"Ugh. Fine. Our mother and father invited over Yari and her family for lunch. Or should I say they invited her over for a makeshift wedding!"

Rys laughed and shook her head. Their parents had been pushing a local girl, Yari, on Tin ever since they came of age. Yari was enamored with Tin of course but Tin wanted nothing to do with her. Despite informing their parents of this, they were determined to marry their eldest son to the daughter of the town leader. Rys' mother and father were traditional folk and stuck in their ways. Rys and Tin were in a secret agreement to never become them.

"Oh Tin. Not again." Rys felt ashamed that her parents did this to Tin. Although he was nonchalant in his speech she could tell that it bothered him. She had an inkling as to why he disliked the idea of marrying Yari however. She was a nice girl with lovely blue eyes and a generous nature but Tin, Rys thought, had never seemed to look her way. She didn't want to press him on the matter and was resolute in waiting for him to talk to her about it.

"Yes indeed darling." Tin sat heavily on the ground beneath Rys, instantly picking up a blade of grass and ripping it to shreds.

"I do wish they would leave it alone. I know it bothers you Tin."

Tin didn't say anything in return; he simply played with the grass between his feet. The two sat in silence for a while, enjoying the solitude. The siblings enjoyed each other's company immensely and never felt awkward to sit together in silence. Most times they would talk and share stories of life until their mother and father would silence them.

The sun slowly crept higher in the sky as Rys went back to reading her book. Tin lounged below her; eyes shut and face to the sun. His hands folded neatly in his lap. Rys soon felt the need to shut her eyes for a mid afternoon nap as well. She returned her book to her knapsack and rolled ever so slightly to the right. When she looked up she could see a field of lilies stretching from the tree line to the outer limits of her town. The field was full to the brim with magnificent white flowers, their petals reaching for the sun.

Rys took a moment to appreciate the sheer beauty that surrounded her home, breathing deep the scented air and releasing the tension held in her muscles. But as her eyes wandered over the field something caught her eye and made the hair on the back of her neck strand straight up.

Sitting up and moving the willow tree’s fronds, Rys peered out to get a better look at what she saw.

"Tin. Wake up." Rys called down to her snoozing brother.

"Hmm?" Tin replied, cracking an eye.

"Do you see that?"

"What?"

"That. In the middle of the field." Rys pointed to the dead center of the field where she spotted an unnerving sight.

Standing up, Tin stretched and shaded his eyes with his hand.

"I don't see - oh wait. I do see it. It surely can't be what I think it is." Tin looked up at his sister with a questioning look.

"Well, let's go see for sure." Rys hopped down from her perch with as much grace as she could muster. Together they picked their way through the flowers, careful not to damage any of the precious buds. A strange sense of dread pulsed through her veins as continued on, making the hair on her arms stand straight up.

They came to the center and gazed upon what had caught Rys' eye. A jet black lily grew among the pure white flowers. It looked alien and out of place. Something about it didn't feel right to Rys even though it was indeed just a flower. It seemed to radiate an aura of unease and agitation.

Tin and Rys stared silently at the ebony flower, bewitched by its eerie beauty and the stories they'd heard behind such a rare bloom.

Suddenly, Tin mada a move for the stem, ripping it from the earth and sending dirt flying.

"Tin!" Rys exclaims in shock.

"There. It's gone and we don't have anything to worry about, love." Tin threw flower as far as he could into the field. "It was probably just a random thing, you think?"

Tin was trying to convince himself that seeing such a bloom was an arbitrary thing. Both of them knew what a black flower could mean but neither was able to put it into words.

Silently they walked back into town, lost in their own thoughts.

There's no way that a lone black flower meant anything. Rys thought. She and Tin had heard stories passed down from the elders about death omens and what happens after a jet black flower is found. Rys steeled herself against such negative thoughts and marched up the stairs to her home.

Inside, Rys and Tin's mother was reading in her favorite chair with her favorite blanket draped over her legs.

"TIN! Where in the Queen's name did you run off to? We had company!" Their mother shrieked as soon as she saw them enter through the door. Normally their mother was a calm and gentile person, but when it came to matters of propriety, she was as strict as ever.

"Mother, you know very well that I have no interest in being shown to the local girls like a jewel being put up for auction." Tin collapsed into a wooden chair in the kitchen, sighing at his mother's admonishment.

While her mother continued to rail against an uninterested Tin, Rys made her way to her bedroom. Her room was small but she thought it rather cozy. Covered in dried flowers, linens, and pillows, Rys was happy in the little slice of paradise she made for herself.

"I hear your mother has found Tin." Sighed a husky voice. Rys' father poked his head around the door frame and leaned his body against the wall. "I'm glad you’re both home. Dinner is almost ready."

"Thanks, Dad." Rys was still mulling over the possible meaning behind the black bloom and wasn't tuned into the conversation her father had started.

"Rys. What's the matter? I know that face. You wear your emotions on your sleeve." Her father picked up on her distracted nature, forcing her out of her thoughts.

Hesitantly, Rys confessed everything.

"We saw something today. Tin and I. It must be completely random but it still gives me gooseflesh when I think of it." Rys had always been a rather cautious and nervous person unlike her brother who seemed to have inherited all the family’s bravado.

"What did you see?" Her father moved into her room, concern showing in his face as he took a seat on the bed beside her.

"A black lily." Rys whispered as if the words themselves carried a weight.

Her father's face instantly drained of color and a shiver ran through his body as he stood. He looked down at Rys, real fear behind his usually clear eyes.

"Dad? What - what is it?" The gooseflesh rose on her arms once more.

"Where did you see this bloom?"

Rys shared all the details of where they were and how Tin violently extracted it from the ground.

"You shouldn't have touched it. You know the legends right?" Her father stood in the middle of the room, unmoving.

"Yes, but surely -”

"I will return." He abruptly departed from her room, descended the stairs, gathered Rys' mother (who was still blathering on about Tin) and exited the house. Rys followed and found Tin at the front door, just as confused as she was.

"Where are they off too? Mother wasn't nearly done with her lecture."

"I told father about the black lily. He seemed scared Tin. Do you think it could have been an omen?" Rys held her elbows as a sudden chill swept though her.

Tin was silent, watching his parents disappear into the house of the mayor.

"I don't know Rys, but if it is, that means something actually would happen in this town!" Tin chuckled and walked away from the door back to his perch by the kitchen table.

Rys sighed and shrugged off Tin's flippant remark. Their town was small and therefore it lacked a certain amount of excitement. But if the flower was truly an omen, that was not the kind of excitement any town of any size wanted.

Rys and Tin fed themselves, cleaned the kitchen, and retired to their respective rooms for the night. Their parents had been gone a while but Tin was unconcerned. He told Rys that they were probably apologizing profusely to the mayor and Yari for his disappearing act earlier in the day. Rys knew that was probably the case and they were no doubt a few drinks in, forgetting all about the time. But something still stirred in the back of her mind. Something tickling and creeping through her thoughts. Something dark and nasty was coming and it all had to do with that obsidian flower.

#god im nervous #i just started writing #don't be too hard on me #queen #seven seas of rhye #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor #brian may

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mcneelamusic · 4 years ago

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The History and Evolution of the Irish Bodhran

At the beginning of every lecture I try to keep it light and engage with all the students. To get the students attention I’ve come up with a fun approach. I start by saying “The facts you are about to hear are all lies!” It definitely grabs their attention immediately and I have 150 faces looking at me blankly!

My statement is of course not true. However, I’ve spent many years researching the bodhrán and honestly I’ve learned that there is no definitive history of the bodhran in Ireland. We can only rely on word of mouth (more like Chinese whispers), handed down through the years by the many generations.

The information and stories we hear are all narrated to us by our parents and grandparents. In other words, the history of the bodhrán is only hearsay. We have little concrete information.

If you research the history of the bodhran online, you will come across several quite varied opinions of the drum’s roots. Many claim it is an ancient druidic drum. Below are some of the theories which exist.

A trade route for the bodhrán could be traced back to over several millennia ago. The trade route may have been in Persia. This is supposedly where the drum frame originated.

The reason people believe the drum originated from Persia is due to its use for the act of winnowing, or separating seeds. This seems the most likely source, as this is what provided the basic drum for most of the other frame drumming cultures.

More recently, it’s believed that the bodhran may have come from North Africa. Frame drums are very popular in this region and are usually played by hand. This North African instrument, called the bendir was played in Ancient Egypt. As Ireland traded with Mediterranean countries, this makes it a likely theory.

This theory is based on use of the bodhran as a tool for dyeing wool. It’s believed that the rim could have been made of bent willow with the skin stretched and tied over the circular willow, then punctured to allow the dye to pass through. The popular colours for dyeing would have been purple (from the flower of the heather), green (from vegetables) and orange (from carrots). Purple and green are known as the Celtic colours.

Interestingly, the bodhran was also used in battle as a war drum. This was to raise the temper of the fighting men against the enemy.

The bodhran was first mentioned in folklore. this comes from our grandparents and they probably heard it from their grandparents and this was with regards to The Wren. The Wren is said to have been a pagan ritual, so we presume the bodhrán was used around the 18th century, however it may have been introduced centuries before that, there’s no evidence of how far back it goes.

John B Keane wrote a book called the The Bodhrán Makers, it’s a good novel, however it’s not a history book! After years of research, it’s remarkable that there’s still no written history in existence and at this stage most likely there never will be.

We know that the bodhrán has been in existence for many years, it’s now as popular as ever, but what made it so popular those many years ago?

After doing much research, I found the basis of what made the bodhrán so popular and ironically it was used as a beat played to the music on the day of The Wren, also known as Saint Stephen’s Day, which takes place December 26th.

So what was The Wren? It was when a group of men dressed up in straw hats and skirts, they blackened their faces with soot and entertained their local population by going from house to house playing traditional music and dancing in payment for food, money or drink and of course the craic which came with it! They were known as wrenboys, mummers or strawboys. This pagan tradition dates back a millennium, this means if the bodhrán was used, it goes as far back as then.

Legend has it that St Stephen was betrayed by a chattering wren while hiding from his enemies. The wren like St Stephen would be hunted down and stoned to death.

Another legend holds that during the Viking raids of the sixth century, Irish soldiers were betrayed by a wren as they were sneaking up on a Viking camp in the dead of night. The wren began eating crumbs left on a bodhrán drum head and the rat-a-tat-tat of his beak on the drumhead woke the drummer who sounded the alarm. The Irish were subsequently defeated and the wren blamed.

So if The Wren was celebrated as early as the first millennium it is possible that the bodhrán was also around at that time.

The wren the wren the king of all birds,

On Stephens Day was caught in the furze,

Although he is little his family is great,

I pray you lady you give us a treat.

My box would speak if it had only a tongue,

And two or three shillings would do it no wrong,

Sing holly sing ivy-sing ivy sing holly,

A drop just to drink would drown melancholy.

And if you draw it of the best,

I hope in heaven your soul will rest,

But if you draw it of the small,

It won’t agree with these wrenboys at all.

First Recordings of the Bodhrán

The bodhrán was first recorded in the 1920’s, it was recorded on a 78 record. It became popular in the fifties and sixties with the renewal in popularity of traditional Irish music and this gave life to the bodhrán makers of the sixties, such as Sonny Davey from Sligo, Charlie Byrne from Tipperary, Paddy Clancy from Limerick and many more.

Bodhrán-making became a cottage industry. In 1978, I joined the fraternity known as The Bodhrán Makers. An bodhrán was promoted by Seán O’Riada in his arrangements for Ceoltóirí Chualann, who later became The Chieftains, and was preferred by Seán to the snare drum used in the céilí bands.

The word bodhrán could also mean deafner, possibly as the wren boys used it to make a lot of noise. According to John B the wren boys sometimes added flattened pennies to the sides to make a jingle and hence the name bourine, short for tambourine.

The Much Maligned Bodhrán Player

The bodhran is regarded by some with derision, or at best suspicion. There are reasons behind this attitude, though I would obviously disagree myself.

The bodhrán seems easy to play. To the non-musician who wants to be thought of as a musician, the bodhrán would appear to be an easily acquired passport into a select company. Or it may be that he perceives the music as an entertainment with which everyone may, or should, join in. Whatever the motivation, the results are sometimes dreadful; a piano accordion, for example, accompanied by a battering of four or five aspiring bodhrán players, all producing personal variations on what they think is the beat is hardly likely to be music.

On the other hand the bodhrán can give a good lift to a session or to solo playing. The combination of the Irish flute and bodhrán is a well-tried one and many flute players like a good bodhrán accompaniment.

The bodhrán frame is made from a variety of different timbers, the most popular being plywood. The use of crossbars gives added strength to the frame. Goatskin is mainly used, but I have heard of people using a variety of animal skins. Goats are not killed for their skins. The skin is a byproduct. The skins that are used today come from a variety of countries mainly Ireland, North Africa, India and Pakistan.

To finish off, a researcher friend of mine was researching the word bodhrán and believes that it comes from the Irish word bodhraigh, which means anger or aggravate. Relate this to winnowing, the separating of the wheat from the chaff. As the wheat bounced against the skin, the wheat is agitated and the chaff separates. So the agricultural tool used to perform this operation could well be called a bodhrán.

So there you have it. A brief history of the bodhran. Though much information is speculation, this, in my professional opinion, is the most likely history of the bodhran.

If you’re taken with this legendary Irish instrument and want to try it yourself, have a read of my Expert Guide to Buying a Bodhran. It will teach you everything you need to know to about the mechanics of this seemingly simple instrument.

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tanoraqui · 7 years ago

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Oh hell, I’m stuck on my main nano thing. Let’s just…remember this? Okay, continuing in that style; warning: you won’t get that much out of this if you haven’t both read LotR (or at least watched it) AND watched Critical Role.

So, our story begins on Wilhand Trickfoot’s eleventy-first birthday, which happens to be his neice Pike’s thirty-third, and thus coming-of-age. To the excitement of all of the Shire who are invited, and all those who aren’t but will show up anyway (that is, the rest) there is to be a party of “special magnificence”…

The camera may pan first, however, to a simple cart trundling up the rode to Hobbiton. The cart is simple, but the man who drives it is not: skin naturally dark with tan, hair darker yet, woven with beads of gold, and purple robes worthy of a king—if, perhaps, a little worn with travel. And the contents of the cart! Simple brown boxes, yes, but the clever hobbit children already growing in a crowd, trailing behind, know what they hide. For they recognize the mark: a runic G.

“G for Gigantic!” they whisper not-so-quietly. “G for Grand!”

“I prefer ‘Glorious’” the man calls over his shoulder, or so he seems.

“What you are,” says another hobbit, “is late.” [the movies were very good, okay.]

She stands in a tree by a bend in the road, dark hair streaked with blue, hands on her hips, a little older than those trailing behind the cart. Just on the cusp of adulthood. It is, in fact, her birthday.

“A wizard is never late, Pike Trickfoot,” the glorious driver of the cart says sternly. But he cannot hide the laughter in his eyes. “Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

Pike Trickfoot does not bother to hide the laughter. She leaps as it bubbles out, without a care that she might miss the headboard and hit the fireworks instead. She does not, of course.

“Gilmore! It is good to see you again. Wilhand’s been worrying you wouldn’t make it.”

The Party happens. There are wonderful fireworks, including a raging white dragon. There is dancing, and singing—in no small part from Pike’s friend and companion Mr. Scanlan Shorthalt, just a few years older than she. Deft of finger and defter of wit, Scanlan was regarded as a bit of a rogue among the more proper Shirefolk, but always popular among the “wild” youth. And all agreed he could play the shawm as fine as you please, and a dab hand at lute and panpipes to boot. (For all that, Pike is ever-immune to his attempts to woo her, halfway earnest though they are.)

Wilhand gives a brilliant speech, and disappeared. He and Gilmore discussed old adventures, and older treasures. Pike gave chase, s far as Bag End, and inherited a ring. And, you know, Bag End. All of it. It was quite a lot. Really, what’s a single piece of jewelry to an entire household?

(Lol.)

Ought I start the story again, some seventeen years later? When Pike has lived on in Bag End, in Hobbiton, with its rolling his and gentle wind nd sun; its happy, homely folk and their busy farms, rivaled only by their busy gossip…

The latest, I hear, is that Miss Sybil Cotton is with child, and will not tell whom the father is. Some wonder if she even knows. Others, who could be worth protecting. Hobbits, though overall kind, do love a good gossip.

Let’s skip some of the boring bits, shall we? Gilmore reappearing in the dead of night, slamming the doors and flinging Pike’s ring into the fire. Dark words in gold, twisted and burning. A danger. A doom. A plan.

So: preparation. Pike hints that Wilhand’s dragon gold is finally running out, and sells Bag End—dear Bag End, dear childhood home—to her cousin JB Trickfoot, who is by far the least troublesome of her less favorable relations. A timid lass, but not unkind, nor full of avarice (beyond, perhaps, for books, and a healthy, hobbitly affection for mushrooms.)

Scanlan accompanies her as far as her “new” home of Crickhollow, but here’s the thing: Scanlan is a bit of a rogue. At least, he is chronically curious, and nearly as clever as that, and always loves great tales and very rarely took no for an answer. So, that night Gilmore told Pike the legend of the One Ring? He my have been…listening. At the window. And the book Wilhand had been working on for years, the true story of his travels, which he never let anyone but Pike read? Scanlan may have…read that. Just a little. Just a glimpse! (He had to jump back out the window when he heard footsteps coming.)

Also, he does know Pike, and it is clear that she is not just preparing to move houses. She is too sad. And Pike does not get sad like a simple hobbit, with a good cry and some beer. She gets sad like an elf, wandering the hills and growing distant, almost ethereal when the light hits her just right. There has always been something odd about Pike Trickfoot.

Scanlan thinks of many things, as he lets his best friend lie to him (for a time.) He thinks of how he has always dreamed of being part of a story: a real one, an important one, far grander than the little tales and jokes he tells in the taverns each night. He thinks of how Pike, whom he does love, is going into danger surely too great for any lone hobbit, and that he would fain even the odds, however slightly. And he thinks, with some guilt, how he, Scanlan Shorthalt, is really very nervous of being in Hobbiton, or even the Shire at large, in…oh, nine months time. Eight, maybe. The longer the stay away, the safer, probably.

Eventually…

“I’m not staying here, Scanlan,” Pike says quietly. There is an urge to fidget with the ring on the chain round her neck, but she knows that is a bad idea, so she twists her fingers together instead. “I know I made a big to-do about moving here, but the truth is…”

“You’re going to Rivendell,” says Scanlan, and lifts a laden pack from among the luggage they’ve dumped on the floor. “Don’t worry, so am I.”

(Already they have hidden on the road from Black Riders, who left a chill in the air as they passed. But still Scanlan grins, if only because Pike looks like he has hit her with a croquet mallet.)

In the Forest, they are nearly buried alive by a curmudgeonly old willow, and get saved by a bizarre man who calls himself Matt Mercer, wears yellow galoshes and speaks only in song. His wife is the daughter of a ray of sunlight, with hair like flickering flames, and when he puts on the Ring he smiles and does not disappear. [Confession: when convincing people to read Lord of the Rings, I often give them permission to skip the Tom Bombadil chapters. Amazing worldbuilding, Tom and the barrow-wrights alike, but SO useless to the plot.]

Here is more sensical worldbuilding: he town of Bree is the only one in all Middle-Earth, so far as the writer(s) of this tale know, where hobbits and big men live side-by-side, with only as much strife as most neighbors have. The inn is bustling, and well-ready for folk of both sizes. Pike and Scanlan welcome the warm beds, and warmer company, as it was another dark, terrifying race to the ford. All nine Rides in pursuit, their voices fell, their dark hooves pounding and dark hands reaching, calling—something in Pike’s throat, or at least around it, calling back—

Now, the hobbits drink in peace, in the warmth of a fire and a crowded, happy inn. But a stranger sits in a dark corner, and Pike cannot help but glance their way from time to time.

“Oh, that’s a Ranger,” says the innkeeper, Laina, when Pike flags her down to ask (and for another mug of ale.) “Minxie, that one goes by. She’s alright.”

“’Alright’?” asks Pike.

“Well, they mostly keep to themselves, Rangers,” says Laina. “Strange folk. One time…”

Pike loses track of the innkeep’s anecdote, because Scanlan has clambered onto a table and begun to play songs many minutes ago. That is fine—they are trying to be incognito, but even the dark forces of the world could not stop Scanlan from preforming for an audience, and Pike loves him for it. What was not fine is that now he has started to tell tales, which mostly meant gossip—and that, with the event so recent, meant Wilhand’s mysterious disappearance at his own birthday party.

“Excuse me,” says Pike, and dashes over to vault onto the table beside him. She pitches her voice to carry. “Good folk of the Greyskull Keep! I must thank you for your hospitality! Rest assured, when I finish my book, Bree will be well-accounted for as a town most welcoming, and most bestowed—and bestowing!—with great food, and ale, and company!”

She raises her mug, toasting the now-cheering crowd.

“That said, I think it might be time my companion and I retired for night, for tomorrow will be another busy day of—”

Maybe someone jostles the table. Maybe a crowd of tipsy, sloppy cheers left too much ale for to slip on. Maybe Pike has had a mug too many herself, and has lost her usual balance.

Maybe darker forces conspire. As she falls, Pike’s hand goes to her pocket, and as she hits the floor (really a very little fall) her finger slips just so, and the world fills with fog. Voices and shapes all muffled, though they are all exclaiming.

Pike crawls frantically out of the crowd, to the nearest corner and secure table under which to hide, and yanks the Ring off her finger.

No sooner has she stowed it once more beneath her shirt, than a big man’s hand grabs her by the scruff of her shirt and yanks her up. A big woman’s actually—Pike finds herself staring up, in mute terror, at the mysterious Ranger. Her face is still in shadow, but Pike can see sharp eyes, and a sword at her belt.

“You are foolish, and not safe here even if you were wise,” says Minxie. “I will meet you in your room, and we will talk.”

#critical role #ficlet #well that was 1754 so now i'm only about 500 behind?#after midnight though #and i really do need to write the thing i mean to write #IF YOU'RE CURIOUS THE ANSWER IS YES #YES I WILL EVENTUALLY REWRITE THE ENTIRE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY AS CRITICAL ROLE #my fic #lotr #monstrum lucis #patronus fabulae

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autolovecraft · 8 years ago

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I had heard monstrous things whispered.

They flopped limply along, half with their membranous wings; and their pungent odor of decay grew quite unbearable. Some fear had been summoned to this shaft of nighted mystery.

When one of the mad Arab, are not appear to men as if it had made me shiver because Aldebaran had seemed to follow a whirring that was now slipping speechlessly into the church.

For though the town at night whose wizards are all ashes. At this horror I sank nearly to the trap-door of my heritage, and pile of books, the thin, whining mockery of a gibbet in the elder time when festival was forbidden; where also they had commanded their sons to keep festival once every century, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind. Death-fires danced over the hill's crest I saw when I sat down on that very bench, so that I lost the feeling that there were persons on the harbor, though the town, to prove that he was what he said. It was a hideous proof, because I was strange to New England I had not left much snow, and I could hear the creaking of signs in the cold dusk to join the blackest gulfs of immemorial ocean. No one spoke to me, and that the old man in the foetid darkness where I could not see. Only once in a very ancient town; went out as the thing piped I thought I heard a distant horrible creaking as of a village at evening, and were now squirming noiselessly in. As the steps and into the church. Lacantius. Mine were an old tradition of my people had dwelt and kept festival in the foetid darkness where I could not see him. When eleven struck, however, the shocking Daemonolatreja of Remigius, printed in 1595 at Lyons, and got two hooded cloaks; one of the festival. The man who had founded the Yule-rite, and the Dog Star leered at the outside world as the bonneted old woman in loose wrapper and deep poke-bonnet sat back toward me, I could not deny it. Then the old man, after picking up the very worm that gnaws; till out of which I had not left much snow, and the passage grew broader, I looked at the left in Green Lane, with an ancient peaked roof and jutting second storey, all built before 1650. The church was scarce lighted by all the obeisances because I was determined to be the last. They insisted that this was Kingsport, and happy the town was invisible in the curtained windows at the top of a village at evening, and lined with unwholesomely archaic houses having peaked roofs and diamond-paned windows one by one along the reaches of that sinuous line of night-marchers seemed very beautiful from the diamond window-panes that it had been striking.

Fainting and gasping, I resolved to expect queer things. It was the Yuletide, and wished bitterly that no sound and set up no echoes.

It was the Yule worship in this ancient place; that it must have been his head that abhorrent Necronomicon he had taken the wrong fork of the seventeenth century.

But the flabby hands, curiously gloved, wrote genially on the ghostly spire. They had streamed up the very book I had no trouble; though at Arkham they must have been kept very close to its antique state.

As the road at its crest a still higher summit rose, bleak and windswept, and sat down to read I saw, and across the fresh snow on the left in Green Lane leads off behind the Market House. For though the town, where there were no houses, I heard noxious muffled flutterings in the light of little, curtained windows. After that I lost the feeling that there were no houses, I pushed on through the shallow, new-fallen snow along the road wound down the foot-worn steps and into the moonless and tortuous network of that sinuous line of night-marchers seemed very horrible, and evil the mind that is held by no head.

Mine were an old people, and when I sat down to read I saw them wriggling into a low, candle-lit room with massive exposed rafters and dark, stiff, sparse furniture of the town, to where Aldebaran twinkled among the trees; on toward the very worm that gnaws; till out of which I had had. It was a cavernous fireplace and a legend too hideous for sanity or consciousness, but I did not like the decayed fingernails of a gibbet in the new dusk, and made stiff ceremonial motions to the family resemblance in his face, but a fiendishly cunning mask.

Up, up, the unmentionable Necronomicon of the eastern sea was upon me all the obeisances because I was sure that the night before, and were now squirming noiselessly in. There were lights inside the house when I sat down on that very bench, so that I did so I shuddered. And when my knock was answered I was sure that the face was merely a devilish waxen mask.

They flopped limply along, half with their membranous wings; and suddenly there spread out before me the boundless vista of an inner world—a vast fungous shore lit by a wide oily river rolled uncanny, unheard, and the books and the blasphemous book in my hands made it doubly so.

As I hung back, and that the amorphous flute-player had rolled out of the beasts were patiently standing by. Then I saw the lurid shimmering of pale light, and coating the nitrous stone with a nasty, venomous verdigris. And because my fathers who had brought me now squirmed to a scarce louder drone in another key; precipitating as it did so I shuddered. What mainly troubled me was that flaming column; spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casting no shadows as healthy flame should, and adore the sick pillar of flame, out of the hill; and where it was a burying-ground where black gravestones stuck ghoulishly through the mountain and beneath the earth of Kingsport itself, and that they bore no mark of passing feet, not even mine.

They told me I had seen it were best forgotten. The printless road was very lonely, and partly a half-paved square swept nearly bare of snow by the writings of my heritage, and spoken another tongue before they learned the tongue of the town was invisible in the wind had not heard any footsteps before the door creaked open. This was not much, though, for the white village had seemed to balance itself a moment on the ghostly spire. It was certainly nervous waiting, and the grotesque knockers of pillared doorways glistened along deserted unpaved lanes in the elder time. The man who had brought me now squirmed to a scarce louder drone in another key; precipitating as it did so a horror unthinkable and unexpected.

I was almost in a loose antique costume, and the books and the old man now left the room; and now I was not afraid long, for not an attribute was missing. He beckoned me into a low, candle-lit room with massive exposed rafters and dark, stiff, sparse furniture of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but that two of the festival. It was told that I lost the feeling that there were no houses, I would have relished it better if there had been striking. As the road that soared lonely up to where the twisting willows writhed against the rotting wharves the sea pounded; the primal rite of the old man was nearly as restless himself. The high-backed settle faced the row of curtained windows at the outside world as the bonneted old woman, who was ceasing her monotonous spinning. In the twilight I heard the insidious lapping of sunless waters. Though it pleased me, silently spinning despite the festive season. What mainly troubled me was that flaming column; spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casting no shadows as healthy flame should, and were now squirming noiselessly in. Mine were an old people, and I shivered that a town should be so aged and maggoty with subterraneous evil.

There was a hideous proof, because I was fully afraid, because they had come, I resolved to expect queer things. But what frightened me most was that flaming column; spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casting no shadows as healthy flame should, and because I knew it lay just over the hill's crest I saw the cloaked throngs forming a semicircle around the blazing pillar. But it was not sure.

Amid these hushed throngs I followed my voiceless guides; jostled by elbows that seemed preternaturally soft, and fallen over the hill where the bobbing lanthorns made eldritch drunken constellations. The nethermost caverns, wrote genially on the rocks, and pile of books, the thatched roofs and diamond-paned windows one by one gleaming out in the snow, a few windows without drawn curtains. I cannot and must not recall. He wrote this in a while before I could have better care. There was no one—in waking hours—who could remind me of it; but my dreams are filled with terror, because I was eager to knock at the left in Green Lane, with the broad windows showing a sea of roofs in which only about one in five was ancient, and sat down to read, and got two hooded cloaks; one of the seventeenth century.

#H.P. Lovecraft #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains #The Festival #1923 #The Festival week

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aion-rsa · 5 years ago

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Most Anticipated Non-Western Fantasy Books of 2019

http://bit.ly/2R8znZW

It's a great time to be a fan of fantasy literature, as the genre makes more space for epics told outside of the western perspective.

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