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"Puck's Birthday Wish" |
Showing posts with label demon-haunted world. Show all posts
Showing posts with label demon-haunted world. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Profane Tales- "Gremlin Hunt"
Synopsis: Picking up where "Traps" left off, Gelding and Amy are now faced with a strange new fae that is wreaking havoc in Amy's castle. Meanwhile, the Siren Tamryn (met in "Melancholy & Magic") is depressed and Gelding is at a loss on how to help her.
1
The Unicorn spent a night guarding the mouth of a tavern,
casting his light into the darkness. He had lost words hours ago, for nothing
consoled the sobbing creature within. For once in his long life, the Unicorn
found himself disadvantaged by knowing another immortal. A mortal maiden would
have ceased her weeping when she laid eyes on the magnificent Unicorn. But the
weeping siren was not a mortal maiden, despite the sounds of such mortal pain.
He had made the mistake of asking her, “Must you pick off
the castle workers? You should hunt mortals elsewhere. The Princess’ handmaids
are disappearing like rabbits.”
It seemed that now the Siren was convinced the Unicorn
loathed her, though he assured her this was not true. Once those first tears
fell, the following could not be stopped. Hours and hours of rocking and
sobbing, weeping and clawing the earth, crying and gasping for air, unfolded
before the Unicorn. He found no way to console her as he would anyone else. All attempts sank into her endless sea of
sorrow.
“Friend,” he spoke again, daring to interrupt the silence
between them “does the sea of sadness have a bottom? How may I help you?”
“You cannot, friend,” she sighed.
The Unicorn went forward into the dampening cavern. The
Siren was wrapped in her own black wings, fresh cuts across her body where she
had clawed.
“I dine on those whom you protect. Especially the pure. You
should vanquish me…Why have you not yet?”
“I cannot hate you for being what you are. Do not touch that
which I hold as my own and we shall never have to fight,” he assured her.
“Where does this hate for yourself spring from, Siren?”
“I killed that which I loved the most, Unicorn…”
The tattered creature’s mouth opened, fangs shining with fresh
blood. Her own clawed hand placed in her jaw. The Unicorn stomped a hoof.
“Stop that! It helps nothing and gives you more to heal. Are
you not wounded enough?”
“Before she could respond, both demon and beast were stirred
by the blare of a horn.
“It sounds as though the humans need me. I must return to
them, my friend. But, Siren, remember my words tonight. Happy ending depends
upon where you have chosen to cut off your tale. Think on this. Stay with me…”
He bowed his head as though he would touch her with his
horn.
“Goodbye…” she called
after him. “Thank you, Unicorn…”
2
“Unicorn!” the human king’s Captain of the Guard roared at
the white creature as it arrived. “Where were you?”
“I was needed elsewhere. I do have a life outside of your
princess, if you can believe that.”
“While you were out cavorting with chipmunks, we had a
crisis!”
In a cage beside the captain an odd creature of green color
was hanging about the bars. The Unicorn had never seen its likeness before.
“What is this leafy, sprightly thing?”
“We were hoping you would tell us.”
The sprightly thing stuck its tongue out at him, much like a
human child. This also bore a resemblance the Fairy Royals’ Sprites.
“I have a vague idea of its kind. But I do not think it is
quite the same. I have never seen this creature exactly. It looks to be a kind
of fae, though.”
“I thought you predated the Garden of Eden,” the Captain
grunted.
The Unicorn was not humored by ignorant statements, so he
went to work circling the cage and examining the creature closer. Its black,
orb-like eyes shined at him. “What did it do to cause trouble?”
“What they are
doing is turning the castle upside down. Freed the Princess’ pets. Attacked the
barn animals, and now they are attacking us.”
The Unicorn looked about and saw that there was disorder,
the embers of a fire being put out. Servants were fanning out burned blankets
and cleaning messes that had been tossed from windows. But he saw none of these
creatures.
“Where are they?”
“They have burrowed underground!”
The sun happened to be rising on the horizon and the
creature imprisoned in the cage shrieked. Both the Unicorn and the man stared
in awe as the poor sprightly thing went into flames. The Unicorn’s ears pinned back in thought.
“Isn’t that the darndest thing, Captain?”
“Where are the others?” the Captain clamored. “Drag them
into the sun!”
“Quick-witted of you,” the Unicorn complimented. “I am
impressed.”
“Quiet, beast!”
“But you seem to miss the point. That is why they have
hidden. Without the shadows, they are rendered too weak to stand the sun.”
“Unicorn!” the Princess Amy’s voice interrupted the
discussion. The Unicorn turned to receive the maiden’s hug. One of her arms was
in a sling from a recent accident but she still managed to embrace him with her
good arm. “I worried where you were.”
“Your anger would be deserved, Amy. I was not here to
protect you…” The Unicorn hung his head.
The Captain gestured as though he were nauseous of the
scene. “That is all fine and well, but now find the remainder of the monsters
and snuff them out, Unicorn.”
“I am not a monster compass,” the Unicorn retorted. “Show
them to me and I shall but I shall need aid in finding them.”
The Princess loosed her hand around the Unicorn and offered,
“I saw one dig into the ground. Whilst on my balcony, looking down.”
“Show me.”
3
The Princess led the Unicorn to her garden. Though she bit
her lip and hemmed and hawed at the prospect she proposed they dig at the
ground where the gremlin had nested under the earth. There was a miniscule
hole, hardly visible.
“Just how small are these things?”
“The size of the very thing the Captain had in that cage.”
“This looks the size of a bug’s hole.”
“Oh, but they must block up the hole after tunneling down.”
Though he would not show his wonder, again, for a third time
in a few hours he was surprised. Now at the this gremlin’s digging skill,
earlier at the Captain’s wit working and earlier still at his friend the
Siren’s endless sorrow.
He pawed in the very spot Amy had shown him, digging with
impressive speed. But though he had the strength and patience to do it, he
feared he would not work speedily enough. “Shall we call in the dogs?” he
asked.
“Yes, though only the hunting hounds will dare dig and they
have been trained to leave the garden alone!” Amy warned. “I believe it will
confuse them.”
“I shall have a word with them, then.”
When the hounds were brought before the Unicorn, his own fur
bristled at the sight. One or two of the dogs, now quite aged, were among the
pack that had attacked him when Amy was a young girl. He stomped a hoof to
indicate his dominance to them. Then in the language of Beasts, he commanded.
“Here, hounds, dig this hole deep. For there are monsters beneath which we must
exterminate. I know you quite capable, as I have seen you turn paw and teeth
against helpless rabbits and foxes. Do this and we shall no longer quarrel.”
“Your eyes are so hateful to my father and mother,” spoke
one of the youngest dogs. “I fear you, white creature, with your long horn, all
glowing and good for poking. I do not trust the hooved one!”
“Calm yourself, hound. I have no animosity towards you and I
shall bury any leftover ambivalence towards your parents on this day. Now will you help to keep the Princess and
the castle safe?”
“Oh, please listen to him,” Amy begged the dog.
It was a known fact that Amy could sometimes hear the
Language of Beasts, a quaint gift she seemed to possess. Rumor among the castle
was that the Unicorn had blessed her with this gift, but the truth was simpler.
Amy had been born this way, and good fortune found her that she should meet a
Unicorn and the strange and fantastic became believable in his presence.
The youngest dog, alpha of the group, at last gave his
submission to the magical beast and the Princess and went to digging at the
gremlin’s nest. Of course, a dog could do burrowing better than a Unicorn,
being a carnivorous creature. It came to
be that only his fluffy tail wagged at the surface when he caught a bite of
something.
“Do bring it to us to see,” Amy called down.
The dog obeyed, all tail wags and a big grin. Snapped
between his jaw was what appeared to be a green potato. Amy’s dark eyes shone
in amazement. “Oh my. ‘tis almost pretty!”
The dog set it down and cocked his head. “What is it?” he
asked the two.
“A kind of Fae. I have never seen the likes of it before.
This must be a protective barrier. Hound, can you take in its scent?”
The dog did as suggested and barked at his fellow canines.
They scampered forward and did the same.
With sniffs, whimpers and tiny barks, they rose to a challenge. “We will
sniff out all that we may find for the Princess and the King,” they told the
Unicorn.
“And so do. And bring the findings to me before nightfall.”
The dogs, ever eager to please their human friends, split up
to act out this task. Amy held her skirts to fetch her handmaids. “Water for
the dogs, please. And extra cages.”
The Unicorn oversaw this small act of Amy taking charge in a
dangerous situation and he felt something akin to pride. Perhaps this was a
fourth moment of astonishment.
4
Whilst the dogs turned over every stone for these odd
fae-things, Amy related to the Unicorn what the creatures’ behaviors had been
like.
“One I gave a sweetie to. At first it seemed quite pleased
and held its hands out for another, which I had and gladly gave it. But then I
was out of the treat and could give it no more. It then became like a petulant
child, stomping its foot and even crying. I tell you, they remind me of small
children. Pampered ones, at that. I have a cousin who is waited on
hand-and-foot and when she was such an age she acted the same way when I
received a toy for my birth date.”
“And were you ever spoiled?” the Unicorn asked, mostly out
of curiosity. “To be sure, I am. Visiting the villages, I realize I truly am.
But I do not believe I ever made such a fuss when not receiving my way. I knew
that in time I would get it, if I were patient,” she explained.
“I see, and so it is their impatience that reminds you of
children?” he asked.
The Princess nodded. “I find them rather charming if it were
not for all the things they break and the trouble they cause. Must they all be
destroyed?”
“Of course, Princess. To suffer them to live would be
foolish.”
Now as evening sun drew close to the horizon a pile of the
cocooned creatures waited before them. The alpha dog informed the Unicorn, “We
can find no more, Unicorn. The scent is nowhere else.”
“Father is going to be unhappy with all these holes,” Amy
mumbled.
Just as she spoke a raven overhead screeched. Both Unicorn
and Princess watched its passing in the sky. The Princess crossed herself at
the sight of the bad omen but the Unicorn brightened with an idea. “Princess,
to-night call all your guards inside or have them cork their ears. For there
may be a sound none should hear.”
“But, Unicorn. Why?”
“I shall explain it later.”
With that he was off in search of his immortal, feathery friend.
4
That sulking siren, with a black veil over her face, had not
moved from her weeping post. She still lie in her own winged embrace. But the
Unicorn’s light shone down into the cavern, stirring her.
“My friend, I have a task for you. If you will please take a
moment from your symphony of sighs to lend me the beauty of your voice, I shall
be forever in your debt.”
She, a creature of the night and a demon in reputation,
could not help but wonder what the majestic beast wished of her.
“How could I possibly aid thee at such a time?”
“The King’s castle is infested by Fae-things. They are like
children and I believe for that reason your song may be useful to us.”
The Siren was seen to sigh and then unfold her wings. She
lifted her head and stretched out. It was true she had songs particularly to
lead children astray, for the ancient creatures delighted in mortal children’s
bones, still tender and soft.
“I could lead mortal children astray but these are Fae.”
“Will you not try? If it does fail, I could destroy them
with a flicker of my light, but the Princess tells me they are innocent in nature,
if not triflingly naughty. I wonder if you may lead them back to the
Fairlands?”
The Siren turned to him. From under the veil there appeared
the faintest of smiles. “You are confident this may work?”
“I believe in your song,” he assured her.
“Then I shall try,” she agreed.
When the creatures reached the mortals’ castle, the Siren
asked, “Why is the yard so…eh, holy?”
“The blessing of dogs,” the Unicorn quipped. “These fae
burrow to hide from the light. Siren, hear and understand why I ask you to do
this. These are Fae and likewise the Fae should have to take responsibility for
them.”
She nodded in agreement, knowing the way to that other
world. All she needed was for the night to fall.
5
Night’s power fell on the mortal land. As it did, the green cocoons of the gremlins
began to fade as if they were illusions. The moonlight washed the greenery of
their blankets away. The vegetal creatures stretched out and yawned. The first
gremlin to realize they were in a cage let out a howl of dislike. The others
followed suit until the cage was a bedlam of noise. The Unicorn stood nearby,
ears flat to avoid the racket. It was quite irritating to him.
But he was the one who needed to stand guard and await the
Siren’s song.
The song began so faint that it could be dismissed as illusions
of night noise. But it fluttered closer, ever closer to where the creatures
were caged in the garden. The things lifted their petal ears, paused with those
leaves following the sound. The outline of the Siren shone against the backdrop
of the moon.
The first gremlin to see her pointed her out to the others.
Then, almost in an instant, all of their little eyes caught the image,
transfixed. Like children, indeed, they became pettish and impatient about
touching the mysterious figure in the sky.
The Unicorn knew when their hypnotism was complete, because
they all began to move in unison. He pulled the string connected to the cage.
The cage door swung open and the gremlins tumbled out. The Siren began to lead
them. The gremlins all had little bee-like wings which lifted them into the air
to join her.
But her figure was playful and swifter than they. For a
little while, the Unicorn saw that they were playing a game of chase with the
demoness. But soon she spun about and led them into the night. He nodded in
satisfaction. His friend had come through.
6
The following morning, the castle was not disturbed by the
creatures. The Unicorn had time to explain to the Princess what plan he
enacted. She was frightened and curious to discover that such a demon dwelt in
the forest but the Unicorn assured her that the Siren would not attack her. As
the Unicorn’s friend, the Siren had sworn not to harm the Princess and he
trusted her word.
He went in search of the Siren that same evening and found
her asleep in the cavern where she nested. There was no weeping and that
relieved the Unicorn. He had never seen such deep despair from another immortal
creature and, though demonic in nature and his opposite in actions, he pitied her.
Pity was not a thing the old Unicorn felt often.
“Rest well, good creature,” he told her sleeping form.
Quickly, tentatively he moved forward and gave the form a
gentle nuzzle of affection.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Profane Tales: "Goodnight Rotten Prince"
ONCE there lived a
prince, beautiful to behold and a pleasure to know. Except, of course, for
those who dared to oppose him. Prince Emeril had a heart that was solid as gold
and he believed any woman he desired was his to take.
His cruelty was unseen
by his mortal peers.
But the Beasts of nature
could not be fooled by his appearances. A little black bird had been following
Prince Emeril for some time before she happened upon the Unicorn.
“Beware that prince,
Unicorn. He left a princess for dead in the kingdom he comes from…”
The Unicorn thanked the
black bird and took up her watch over the prince. Unicorns could not be fooled
by outward appearances. When he beheld the prince, it was of outward ugliness
he saw. He saw blood on Prince Emeril’s hand as the man stepped down from his
steed before the castle.
“Amethyst,” the Unicorn
spoke to the Princess maiden he guarded. “Do you see that Prince?”
Amethyst, behind her
white veil looked in the distance at the gathering nobility. “Yes, the handsome
one with fair hair?”
“That is the one. Stay
clear of him, Amy. He will bring only heart-break.”
“But he is so comely.
You speak of him as though he is a wolf or a satyr.”
“You are too young to
understand why I must warn you of this man. Please, this once, believe my words
without needing proof.”
The Princess lowered her
head and sighed. “Yes, Unicorn. I will be careful.”
“And keep the veil that
your nursemaid gave you over your face. Do not let him know you.”
Amy gave a nod and
joined the other women at May Day celebration.
There was a feast spread
out for all and Amy sat in the middle as a guest of honor. She and her father
the king were honoring the villagers. Prince Emeril was merely a visitor from a
neighboring land. But the Princess stirred his curiosity the moment he glimpsed
her. Even behind a veil, he could see she was lovely, with cascading dark hair
and fair skin.
“You must be the
Princess Amethyst?” he asked.
He was kind in manner
and this confused Amy greatly. He listened to her thoughts and her stories and he
did not laugh at her when she confessed that she would not partake in any meat
at the banquet.
“I cannot eat animals,”
she explained. It was a thing most suitors chuckled at and the crueler ones
mocked her for being silly. But Emeril seemed to accept this quirk without
hesitation.
Nor did he seem to doubt
her sanity when she mentioned her Unicorn friend. Emeril glanced at the forest
where the white creature stood. The Unicorn stared back at the Prince with
moonlight-colored eyes. But Emeril saw no horn on the beast’s head.
“A strange beast,
Princess. But I see no horn upon his head,” he took her hand gently. “Surely,
you are joking. It seems an odd mix of deer and horse to me.”
“Oh, no, Prince Emeril.
Some people do not see his horn. Some see a white deer when they look at him.
Others, a malnourished albino donkey.”
From afar, the Unicorn scoffed.
How he hated when he was called an ass.
Emeril smirked. “Perhaps
you will come to the bonfire tonight? And bring him with you. I will ask the
others if they see the horn.”
Amy laughed and set a
hand to her chest. “If my father does not forbid it. You shall be there?” she
asked, aware already that she would avoid this event. Even if Emeril seemed
nice, she had faith in the Unicorn’s judgment. Never had the Unicorn’s wisdom
steered her wrong and, whilst surrounded by an enchanted forest, that had
proven invaluable.
“Excellent,” he replied.
“It shall be lovely to see you there…”
Amy was soon called
away, though she allowed the Prince to kiss her hand.
“Do you like him?” one
of her maids asked.
“He is friendly…” was all she could reply, torn
between her loyalty to the Unicorn and her curiosity of the Prince.
The Unicorn could see
behind Emeril’s guise of gentility. Maidens and youths frolicked about the
festival and young Amy remained close to her maids and father. Whenever the
village was given a merry event the white beast tended to hide himself but
today he kept watch over the innocents. Emeril appeared as crimeless as they.
When Amy disappeared into the crowd with the other maidens of the village—they
had decided to include her in a game of throwing food—the Unicorn took the
moment to enter the village itself. Until this point, he had been lingering at
the edge of the forest, languishing in the grass and watching with the black
bird at his side. Now he walked with a slow gait along the cobbled path.
Prince Emeril turned
from conversing with another noble and cocked a brow at the beast.
“The Princess’ friend.
He is friendly, isn’t he?”
He and the other man
laughed. “What is he? Astounding. Not quite a horse, is it?”
Emeril’s companion
reached out to touch the Unicorn but the creature recoiled from him and reared
up. It was a warning noise to stay back, slightly too high to be a neigh. It
was more akin to a whale’s call underwater. Emeril’s companion backed away in
fear but Emeril made a grab for his sword.
“Oh, put that down, will
you? I come to be reasonable with you,” the Unicorn spoke in the language of
Man.
Both men gaped as color
drained from their faces.
“You, Prince Emeril,” he
warned “should not attend that bonfire tonight if you value your blood flowing.
There is a creature in this woods who craves your kind. And better still, the beasts
of this forest love the Princess. She is their friend and friends keep their
own. You would not want to anger them.”
“What witchcraft is
this?” Emeril demanded, putting the sword to the Unicorn’s face.
“Get that thing out of
my face!” He used his horn to knock the sword out of the Prince’s hand. “That
is all, Prince Emeril. Enjoy your festivities.” He grunted and trotted away.
“Mortals…” he scoffed.
2- song of the dark
princess
Emeril had heard the
word “no” throughout his life but never could come to grasp its meaning. And so
he was quite angry when the Princess did not keep her word about the Bonfire.
Other maidens were frolicking about but he had his sights set. Gray eyes
scanned the scene for any sign of Princess Amethyst. Maidens had joined hands
to circle the fire and ring around it. The sight was familiar enough to the
Prince, one he had seen countless times in his own kingdom.
It was not until a
quarter before midnight, as the Bonfire grew to its heights that her figure
arrived. She had traded in her white dress and veil for a black replacements,
as though she were leaving a funeral behind. Her maids were nowhere to be seen.
For a moment, her silhouette played against the fire, statuesque and unnerving.
An odd thing happened
then. Something Emeril had never seen a princess do before.
Amy began to sing, with
no formal announcement.
“What are you doing, my
lady?” he asked.
But her song was sweet
and echoed far and wide.
“Follow me to forests,
sweet,
where only the moon
shall watch us flee,
None shall know but the
trees,
Lift my veil and
freedom’s plea
Shall be but ours and no
one else
Will ever know where
darkness dwells…”
Though he could make no
sense of the lyrics, it was the voice that entranced him. Amy’s arms had begun
to sway in time with her melody. She tiptoed away, barefoot. He was left with
no choice but to follow. Reminded of his youth, that one girl who had escaped
him. It was her voice, he knew it. It
must be. And though this followed no logic, the moment of pursuit saw it as
truth.
It was the very root of
any chase. To capture that escaped captive.
All around them, the
other celebrators had begun to fall asleep.
He followed the darkly
veiled woman into a moonlit forest. Emeril had forgotten that white beast and
his warnings of danger. “Pursue!” was all his mind could allow. He had never
longed to touch something so much. This was a pinnacle of more than lust. It
was longing.
The Princess stood
beneath an old tree. The song had finally faded.
“Amy, your voice… It is
unearthly.”
But when he reached for
her, she held out a hand to stop him. Again she tiptoed away from him. His
blood boiled. “You take me all this way and say no!”
The woman spun around
and lifted her veil. The face was not quite fair. Something was not mortal in
it. Her eyes were the color of blood.
She said nothing but
smiled. Emeril felt a shock as thorns dug into his leg. Impossible things
followed, the vines of the earth growing quickly around him. It was too late
when it dawned on him what was happening. The forest itself turned its powers
against him.
That awful siren of a
woman laughed. She giggled and lifted from the ground with long black wings
that he had not seen until now.
“Perhaps you should tell
the forest that you are not in the mood,” she laughed and winged herself away,
talons and all.
In the distance, that
strange white creature of Amy’s, the “Unicorn,” watched as thorny vines held the
Prince in place and nocturnal laughter surrounded him.
All around, the dome of
night transformed the forest into a landscape that was both familiar and
strange. This land was peopled with creatures usually unseen by Man’s eye.
The Unicorn turned from
the scene and walked away. “I warned him…”
3-the Fairlands
The vines and thorns
that held Prince Emeril in place were not all-powerful, only graceful arms that
forced him to see the world fall into its subconscious. For the Prince that
dream was a nightmare.
He cursed and struggled
against the vines, eventually breaking through one of them and pulling himself
out of their grasp. But by this point, teasing, tiny lights had begun to circle
him. They mocked him and one bit his ear.
Irate with the sprites,
Emeril swung his free hand dashed it against a tree. He brought his hand back
to discover a blackish blood on his fist. This had turned into a night from
hell. It was instinct for him to kick leaves over the dead sprite, which he had
no time to truly examine. He assumed it to be some kind of fairy or demon.
The forest was no longer
the one he had entered while pursuing the Siren. He cursed himself for leaving
behind his weapon. Here something else sprung to life against a tree. The
moonlight had casts Emeril’s shadow on a trunk and that shade moved on its own
accord.
He turned his face away.
Nothing here should be trusted, not even his own eyes. He had not been a
believer of nightmarish tales but he had listened to enough to know better.
The growl and howl of an
animal caused the lost Prince to spin around in the dark. But he could not find
the direction of the noise. The moonlight was eclipsed and a shadow fell on the
mortal man. A clap of thunder and a gust of wind broke any silence the night
once held. Lightning stole the light from his eyes before returning it in a
flash.
A winged figure appeared
before him, with skin the color of green-gold and eyes that seared.
“Murderer!” the
bestial roar returned. Each word boomed as the spectacle spoke. “Thou hast
killed one of the King’s citizens in cold blood! And not in self-defense. Bow
and beg for forgiveness, wretch, and mayhaps there shall be some little mercy!”
“Stand your ground!”
Emeril could not match the creature’s voice in power but he refused to bow.
“You kill one of the
King’s citizens and now you dare to command him! This is my kingdom, moronic buffoon!”
“You may stand twice my
height but do not think I shall back down, demon.”
“Demon? DEMON!?”
The creature’s black wings flapped and lifted him from the ground. “You dare to call the King a demon? I am
FAE! And thy teeth shall be fashioned to a necklace for my daughter, thou
wanton imbecile!”
Emeril felt fear but not
the mortal dread most would experience in this situation. He had rarely felt
true horror.
“Simmer down then,
Fairy. I was led astray by a Siren-wench. My appearance in your kingdom is by
mistake.”
“And so you think this
excuses you from the murder and the crimes you commit. If you weep not in
remorse, you will sob in endless pain. Excuses are dull and useless to the King.
Results. That is the thing he wishes to see.”
“The result shall now be
walking away,” Emeril replied, recovering from his initial shock. He did not
fear fairies. No matter how fearsome or frightful they seemed. Tales he was
told as a child were of tricksters and shape-shifters. There was the occasional
maiden-thief or those that swapped out infants for old and deranged fairies.
But overall, they seemed to be the lighter cousin of the more formidable hell
demons. He turned on the King of Fae and began in the opposite direction.
A hand grasped his hair and,
with one tug, threw the man to the ground. A heavy boot came down on his chest.
“Have you no mortal
dread!” the King demanded. “No
respect for pain and what it may teach.” The boot grinded down into
Emeril’s chest. He felt anger, agitation and a primal need to fight or flee.
But dread? There was still none.
The King’s face seemed
to reflect this knowledge.
“The King first considers
killing, then considers reformation but now he sees what thou truly are. The
Unicorn was correct in his prognosis.”
The King balled a fist
and tugged at the air. The uncontrolled scream echoed throughout the forest as
the fairy uttered his curse.
“Thy touch hath
cursed the women thou cross’d
And so thee shall
likewise be cursed and lost.
In a lake of thine own
tears
Forever afloat without
peer.
Bones twisted to match thy
guise
of kindness and elegant
lies.
White for purity that
thou soaked red,
for rejecting the flame-light
that pain should have shed.”
The King had removed his
foot from Emeril’s chest and the Prince crawled to his knees and grabbed at the
tall fairy’s leg. But a pain shot through Emeril’s spine, causing him to cry
out. The Fairy King looked down upon him with a growl and Emeril’s hands
slipped inch by inch off of his foe. On the ground his back jolted and the rest
of his body shook. The violent spasm rocked him like a doll in the wind. It
felt as though his very bones were breaking.
Such physical pain the
Prince had never known. Even in battle, stabbed and coming so close to death
had not been such a pang. When that first series of spasms stopped he saw on
his hand one white feather. But he felt the rest of his flesh break into goose
bumps before his spine broke.
That distinct snapping
broke through the night.
Bones rearranged themselves.
The process dragged until
he lay inside his own clothing, too small to wear it. The King knelt down
before him and lifted him from the pile of clothing. That is when the Prince
knew he was no longer a man.
The tall fairy held the
white swan and stroked his feathers.
“A cursed prince. A
twist indeed,” the King marveled. “I think I will leave thee at an enchanted
lake. If thou attempts to fly off, the pangs you inflicted upon maids shall
be…thine own.”
4- the legend of the
dreaded swan
That is the story of how
the rotten-hearted prince became an enchanted swan. The timeless swan maidens
and youths have always existed. But Zeus had not been trapped within his
treacherous guise. And so Emeril’s fate was unique among the swans. The legend
says that by night he sometimes becomes part man again and he is a danger for
maidens to visit.
When the Unicorn heard
of the new legend he visited the lake to see for himself.
A swan floated towards
him, leering.
The Unicorn lowered his
head and allowed the bird to see his reflection in the moonlight. It was a
reflection which showed his horn to the cursed swan. Emeril questioned why he
had not seen it before.
“Perhaps
someday you shall not need a penance to teach you how real pain is,” the Unicorn told him. “Perhaps someday I would break
the curse for you. But to-night, I fear too much that you would still spread
pain rather than learn from it. Goodnight, rotten Prince. May chariots of swans wing you to
your epiphany.”
Profane Tales and its characters are Copyright the author! (c) 2014 Luz Briar.
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