GELDING IN THE FAIRLANDS: Whole Comic (links & pages)

GELDING IN THE FAIRLANDS!
Link Index:

 Prelude, One,Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Finale

Prelude: Soliquy

Page 1: The King plots.

Page 2: Gelding receives an invitation.

Page 3: Don't attack a Unicorn.

Page 4: Arriving at the Party.

Page 5: Where is the groom?

Page 6: Uh oh...

Page 7: magic time...

Page 8: What just happened?

Page 9: Grand finale!

Profane Tales: Melancholy & Magic (part 2 of 2)

4-unicorn & siren
THE UNICORN found welcomed silence among the Fairy forest. He found a tree to lean against, for he was bone-weary and ready to sleep without waking.
Solitude was cut short by the sound of a woeful song. The voice was one the Unicorn thought he knew, female and too enchanting to be mortal. It may have worked to weary a mortal traveler into lying down to weep. But he was not mortal. Instead he was filled with curiosity.
"Your ha ho has. So full of joy.
words you pass make me a toy.
My wings are soaked,
my bones already dried.
So build you hungry fire.
So build it high.
Your painted lies, your this and thats

Your torchlight cries with sharpened flats
My wings are broken, so throw your spears
You delay my defeat
‘for cries are music to your ears."
A sob broke the ballad’s end and by then the Unicorn found the Siren beneath a tree, knees hugged to her chest. A veil half-concealed her countenance but he knew there was only one siren with a veil. That of their oracle.
"You sing when it does you no good, siren. Tamryn, dry your ears and fly from this world. It is not for you. You are demon and they are fae."
"I belong in no world now. I am the last of my kind," she sighed and lowered her head, dark hair falling in a curtain.
The Unicorn saw no wings but he knew it was an illusion to make her seem harmless. He kept his distance, for though they dined on men, sirens were unpredictable.
"If you are the last then a decision should be made whether you wish to perish or live on. Action must be taken. Passivity is nothing and will lead to nothing."
"And so you are here to mock me, too?" the Siren asked.
"I find few things funny, Siren. Our melancholy is as one. They have all broken my horn."
This captured the creature's ear and she lifted her head. "I see your horn, Unicorn."
"And I still see your wings beneath the glamor."
There was a faint smile behind the veil. "We are of opposing natures. You protect innocence and purity."
"Sirens eat the tempted mortal. I do not see how this makes us very different."
"I..." she told him with a sharp gesture "eat virgins."
"I see." The Unicorn lowered his horn. It was not something he wished to do, to slay this pitiful creature. Likewise, she rose to his challenge. As his horn let out a ghostly light, her disguise as an ordinary woman melted. She spread her arms, her veil going black and feathers appearing where her white dress had been. Great, magnificent black wings unfolded before the Unicorn and where had sat a demur creature a fearsome Siren with midnight-black wings awaited the white creature's next move.
The Unicorn backed. "I do not wish to fight you."
"I do not wish to fight you," the Siren returned.
"Lower your wings and I shall lower my horn."
The Siren was afraid, this was clear in the way her feathers ruffled. But she lowered her wings. For this show of trust, the Unicorn lowered his horn. He also set his head down and began to walk away. The demoness followed, at first in silence but then "May I join you? I promise I will not touch you."
"Yes, you may come along. I am leaving this world. I must return to the mortal one, where demons and men have free reign."
"I must, too."
"Then walk by my side."
Tamryn obeyed. The veiled Siren walked with the unicorn, neither touching but each smiling slightly.

5-the Unicorn lives
IN THE mortal kingdom, the executioner still waited with an assembly of guards. All hung their head when they saw the white creature approaching. The Unicorn was luminous at night, like a beam of moonlight. His own head was not hung as low as earlier but he approached his certain death with a steady gaze.
"I had hoped...he would not come," spoke one man, echoing the thoughts of all.
Of all the heads hung, the executioner's was the heaviest. He was now to behead a unicorn.
The Unicorn knelt before the tree stump where he was to place his head. "I have known so much time that Death appears like dawn light and tomorrow sounds like Nothing."
A long silence stretched over them all as the unicorn offered his neck to cut.
But a voice glided through the quiet. It was a feminine voice, its words difficult to discern.
Yet the Unicorn knew enchantment when he heard it. Of all the men about to witness this execution, it was the executioner who stirred at the sound of the voice.
"She is calling me..." he whispered.
"Do not listen to it!" one of the men warned him.
"I have no choice..." he told the others. Then, with his axe in hand, he followed the voice. “It is the Angel of Death.
Deeper into the forest, the voice was singing. Beckoning the innocent and the pure to an embrace.

Only the bravest guards chased after him in an attempt to break his trance.

By the castle, the Unicorn stood. He had begun to trot into the forest after the Executioner. But fanfare announced the return of someone of the the princess Amethyst.

The Unicorn turned as lift of gloom could be seen on the way he ran. While the other men were discovering the Executioner's axe, the virgin and the Unicorn were reunited. Somewhere in the shadows of the forest, the siren watched, humming a merry tune.

Profane Tales: Melancholy & Magic (part 1 of 2)

1
SOMEWHERE IN the Kingdom of a mortal King, a Princess was away and visiting her relatives. In her long absence, the Unicorn who was her protector and friend would lie in the king's garden and sleep. When he woke he stared into the sky and wished for an end to his memories. Time for him had become heavy. He bowed his head and stood that way as hours passed. Every mortal man, woman and child who crossed his path would bow their heads as well and begin to weep. The Unicorn's sorrow touched every mortal who saw him.

"Look at the Unicorn," they would say, but instead of the joy or wonder that usually followed, a melancholy of deepest black settled on them.

It became so dark in their hearts that the mortal King had to make a decision. "Every time my daughter is gone for more than a few days this happens. We cannot keep living this way. Nor will the Unicorn go to hang his head elsewhere, no matter how we shoo or threaten him. Something must be done."

With a weeping heart the King ordered that the ancient creature at last be put to rest. As the guards arrived to tell the Unicorn this news, he lifted his head, white fur shining in the moonlight. He nodded and let his head drop again. The creature made no move to run or fight.

"Have you nothing to say?" the Guard asked.

"What difference shall it make if I am quiet or I speak? In eternity, all paths lead back to an end."

The guards stepped away and gave the Unicorn some time before they would return with the axe to do the deed. Unseen, all of this was watched by the keen eye of Puck. Or as some mortals knew him, "Robin Goodfellow." 

He lamented, "No! That is almost the last Unicorn there is. Noble and powerful creature! My King will not hear of this creature of night perishing in such an anti-climatic way! I must tell him!"
And so Puck did.

2
SOMEWHERE IN the Other World, the one of Fae and fantastical things, the Queen of Fae had ordered the execution of a dangerous being. The Queen stood surrounded by her guards and with axe in hand. In front of her knelt a she-creature with black wings and a veil over her face. As the Queen lifted her axe, the sun began to set. The scarlet-haired beauty looked at her shadow beside the siren and sighed.
"Here. Let my husband deal with the bloody part of this ritual. I retire, it is his time," she told the guards.

Some of them gaped but the older ones merely shook heads for the familiar order. The Queen, more accustomed to the diplomatic daytime duties, left on the back of her fantastical flying creature. The trembling siren lifted her head, a look of perplexity visible beneath her veil.

When night fell there was a clap of thunder and gust of wind. The King of Fae appeared in a grand sweep of splendor and the guards announced him. His voice was the terror of nightfall, cut and scratched from years of warring " WHAT IS THIS MY WIFE LEAVES ME? AN AXE AND A HARPY?"

"A siren, actually, your majesty," Puck appeared in time for the King's entrance. "The last of her kind, I believe. She ate most anything she could lure to her path."

"But is that not the nature of the beast? Why are we executing her?" he rasped.

"Particularly, she ate virgins. Whom your wife protects."

"She is the very last. And we have no war against these particular demons. They mind their own. One must eat to live!" the King announced, voice still a cascade of power.

Puck cleared his throat, his floppy ears lying flat. He was used to his King's overwhelming presence. But the siren clearly was not. She had curled up on the ground in a tight ball of whimpers and feathers.

"Perhaps we could convince Her Majesty to spare the poor thing if she heard her sing. Such a song is a treasure, especially if this is the last."

Oberon nodded. His bronze eyes lit. "Yes. SING, SIREN!"

The little veiled siren lifted her head up, entire body shivering. She opened her mouth, took in a breath of night air and sang. But it was a frightened squeak, something a mouse might have topped in a contest.

Puck winced. "Not a show-stopper."

"Sing if you WISH TO LIVE, CREATURE!"

"Your Majesty, that may not be the way to go about coaxing a song out of a frightened siren. And on that topic. I have news for you about our favored Unicorn."

Oberon turned to meet Puck's gaze with his own, curious. "What news have you?"

"The King who keeps him plans to execute him. The poor creature is melancholic and a Unicorn's sorrow spreads to all mortals in the area. Quite a tear-jerker."

"And so they should make the thing glad! Killing it fixes nothing, for then they have unicorn blood on their hands and nothing cures such regret! SHOULD I SPEAK TO THEM?" he belted.

"I do not favor that idea either, Your Highness," Puck gave an innocent smile. "But I do have an idea."

"You have my ear."

"I believe these pathetic creatures could help one another. This siren is an immortal maiden. The unicorn is an immortal friend. Both probably the last of their kind. He may stir the song in her once again and that will stir him to smile, for her song is balm to the soul. It is too bad she cannot sing right now. You should hear the kind of notes these creatures can hit--"

"Done! We shall show them to one another. But first we must take the Unicorn from the mortal king's court."

"You cannot drive a unicorn where it does not want to be..." Puck sang-song.

"Mortals cannot drive unicorns. We shall see what an immortal King can do!" the tall fairy exclaimed, lifting from the ground with his large wings.


3
WHERE THE Unicorn sulked by the castle fountain there was no sign of other life around him. But in his own reflection, he could see the moon become clouded. He recognized the outline of the Fairy King on the Moon and his eyes opened wider, delicate ears set to twitching. From the water of the fountain several water sprites jumped. They seized the Unicorn with expert hands and pulled him face first into the water.

That water was deeper. Deeper than any man-made fountain, for it led into the Other World.

The Unicorn emerged from the deep and found himself in a pond far, far from the kingdom where he had been. He jumped from the pond and skittered about like a newborn deer.

"I apologize on behalf of the King," came a familiar voice.

"Robin! What is this meaning of this!" the disgruntled, wet unicorn commanded. "Has the King lost his already hole-ridden mind?"

"Shhh..." Puck shushed him and laughed. "We wanted you safe from the axe."

"Out of the boiling pot and into the fire. I know where I am, fae. I have been here before and it is as dull as the mortal demon-haunted world."

Puck's ears drooped, large brown eyes reflecting true hurt. "Now, Unicorn, why be so harsh. We only want to see you happy again."

"I have not been happy. I have not known happiness for longer than you, your King, your Queen or any of the beings here have lived. I am older than this very realm."

"We thought we might have found a kindred spirit for you. If you want to be difficult then do so." Puck folded his arms and shook his head. "But you will have my King to answer to."

"I have a King to answer to in your world and in another world. I am tired of kings. Let them question me, let the axe fall. I do not care."

The Unicorn shook himself off and began to walk in the opposite direction of Puck. His head was turned upward while little droplets of water fell from his body. Never had a Unicorn looked so mournful.

---
A/N: Not sure why blogspot isn't letting me space this story properly or not publishing it on time. I'm working on remedying this. Part 2 shall be up Sunday. As always, feedback is welcome and let me know you like by sharing. <3, LB

Exit the Briars: LB's "Veil" on Opening Line!

Check out LB's short story "Lifting the Veil" in the online The Opening Line magazine's October Supernatural edition.

A short creep tale. A sister relates her brother's decline into obsession over a mysterious woman wearing a veil. Read but not if you're planning any sleep tonight.

Expect an update Wednesday. A new short story just for the winter. And here. Have some art I made or the winter and in the vein of "Lifting the Veil." Though I believe this is the Ghost of Christmas Future and not the character in the short story~ <3

poem: Shadow of a Muse (from "Shards" poetry collection)

I created her
I can do as I like with her
spray her with water, sparkles and chill
leave her in the snow to winterkill.
Or I could marinate her
in a cauldron of bronze and gold
I could add spices to the brew
Until she's boiled anew.

You know I am Victor Frankenstein
I am her Dracula
I am God Himself to her
I will do as I please and send her on the battle line
Where a company of soldiers will have their taste of her soft flesh
I shall lock her in a tower where she will never know man's scent.
I made her
and I can break her.

I will whisper sweetly to her
But only when I am sweet.
Other times I will yell and lash her
And with tears and hair, she'll wash my feet.
If she ever tried to stand her ground
With small trembling shoulders
I would stare and laugh.
"My darling, do not go there."

You know that I am the sculptor
and she the shadow of my muse
She is only worth what I say
Or worth the ways she can be used
If you suggest that she exists in a world beyond my lab
I will promise you, mister, that you are mad.
I made her
and I can break her.

I know that she has stood
Over my bed as I sleep,
Her breath in shallow waves,
A sculptor's scalpel in hand.
But I shiver not in the shade of her form
I know her capabilities
What she can and cannot do to me
"My darling, go back to ---"

intermission: Orion's Poem "Unquiet Grave"

What an unquiet grave

A tomb so un-still

Howls rising in the night

The souls so dark and ill.

Now sing “Rest in Peace.”

You sing “Rest in Peace.”

What an unquiet grave,

We hear your foot falls pass.

Whilst we rant and rave

Your hands, they point, you laugh.

Laughing “rest in peace.”

“Poor fools, rest in peace.”

God’s cast-offs,

Live behind iron bars

God’s last thoughts

Were of earthly black scars.

For the lunatics need

These irons ‘bout their wrists.

For we lunatics plead

For death’s noble kiss.

Hell unsheathes in our eyes

The eyes of the weak

Wicked and then tragic

Avert yours when we speak.

You will rest in peace.

You know Rest and Peace.

Heretical writings

Ask you to touch the madman’s sick bare hand

Without your gloves.

Contagions damned!

Heretical writings

Ask that you visit this restless old grave

Out of your love

Even touch the mud

Leaving flowers with cards “from…”

What an unquiet grave.

prose/story: Most Peculiar

Last night I dreamt a stairway, in a trailer old, reminded me of blood spilled by my own hand.

“Odd,” I thought. “Most peculiar.”

I can hardly crush an exoskeleton on a good day.

Then my best friend Binky, the six-foot-tall roach agreed “Most peculiar. Most strange.”

(c) 2011-2012 Luz Briar.