Written back on June 22, 2011
The spring has finally thawed the last remaining hints of winter’s passing. The traditional fur cloak wrapped around the woman’s shoulders had sweat dripping down her back as the sun’s rays beat against her skin. It was almost time to remove it but as the sun reached higher in the sky, the time could not come fast enough. The flowers full in blooms seemed to look at her and sweat but she held her composure. She was the people’s leader she would be nothing less than devoted to the ritual about to unfold before her.
The wise women of the tribe came forward after her offering and it was now her time to transform herself from the princess of death to one of life. The wise women shed the furs from her shoulders revealing her scantily clad figure to the world. Summer beads, mud and flowers were the only thing that hid her body from the sunlight. She held her head high to the sunlight to let it bask her pale moonlight skin to become one of the day once more. The winter months did much to change the way of the tribe and she was glad to be back in the loving warmth of the day once more.
“Come before the sun and let the sun guard our harvest once more. Let it bring life into this world and life into our bellies.” The wise women spoke as she crushed some of the first summer petals onto the skin of her forehead and then over her womb. The color of pale purple stood out against her dark mud and pale complexion. A circlet of flowers was clasped to her head by the frail but powerful hands of the wise woman. Next came the cloth of summer, the color of purple berry stained cotton draped around her shoulders and was tied at her waist with a nettle rope.
“Welcome back Bringer of Life, gone is Death. Cherish people and rejoice!” the wise woman’s voice rang out throughout the prairie and cheers echoed. The solemn face now showed a glimmer of happiness as life returned to her people.
Sorry it is a day late, but I hope it is worth it! Happy Summer Solstice a day late!
Written on June 19, 2011
The snowy owl beat her wings until she reached the stone walls of the keep which she called her home for so long. She knew it was also her prison. She was meant to be an experiment to see if her people were kept within stone for a long enough time if they would lose their “special ability.” The people of the north hated their reputation of the ones who were different. It made the people of the south think of them as barbarians and not as equals to trade and make alliances with.
Her silk slippers gently tapped the ground as she walked to the front door to open them only enough to slip her slender now human form inside.
“Where were you?” said a booming voice in which she closed her eyes and slumped her shoulders in response.
“Walking through the woods, Lord Benson.” Eyes raising to meet the dark brown eyes that glared at her. Immediately both their postures became erect and proud, preparing for the argument about to happen.
“I heard that was not all you did, and now I see you have done more than just walk through a fucking woods.”
“Do you not dare to use that kind of language with me Donald! I am still higher ranking than you no matter what you try to make me believe.”
“Your parents stripped you of your titles when you were sent to me.”
“Is that why I was sent to a Lord’s keep to stay instead of a silo?”
“The villagers want you gone and I can refuse them no longer. Your bag has been packed and you must leave before mid-day.”
“Do not be so sad Donald. I would have never let you touch me anyways to become your wife. Die alone and I shall come back and claim your forsaken land when no one else will claim it. Watch from the clouds and see.”
“You dare to curse me in my own house?” The lord’s face grew as red as a tomato as his voice escalated.
“Never a curse. I am sick of everyone thinking I am some freak! Just because I can do things that you cannot does not mean that I am any less human. I shall leave right away. Where are my bags? Are you allowing me to take a horse or should I just walk myself to the edge of the earth?
“Apparently you think my skill is greater than it is. It is very difficult for a bird to carry such a large bag during flight.”
“Do not smart mouth at me girl! I am still the lord of this keep and you will respect me.”
“Like all the times you tried forcing yourself upon me? I think this is just a way, an excuse, to be rid of your embarrassment, the one thing you can never have.”
“You stupid girl!” He approached her quickly, nearly a toes breath away from her. His chest puffed out and his face looked a boil. “You have no right to speak to me thus. You are an ignorant child. I could have given you so much, wealth, children, safety. You were not just sent to me as an experiment freak. I could have offered you all could have wanted.”
“What I want is to have some god damn freedom. As you said my titles are stripped so it is not if I need to follow those stipulations. I do not want to just have a son for some prince. I want to leave these damn walls and have some freedom. I want to actually experience life and learn from the wild. What is so wrong with that?”
“What is so wrong is you are still someone of noble blood and you have a duty to your family.” his posture still staying erect he backed away from her and sat down in one of the massive chairs lining the entrance hall. Before today she never realized the attempts the lord had made to actually make his keep less cold feeling and make it more of a grand museum of art. The walls were softened by the bolts of colorful fabric. The main hall was lined with blue tapestry in flowing waves every ten meters or so apart from each other. In between each wave of fabric was a piece of art, dancing women, masquerades with a massive chair like the one he was sitting in now below each one. Above his head was a beautiful women with the mask of an owl and wings lining her back.
How blind she was to realize that throughout his faults he was actually quite lienant of her “condition.” The artwork, she did not realize were all women in animal costumes. The beautiful detailed paintings were lit up with candle light. She wondered if he did that on purpose.
“My family abandoned me and declared me not of their blood. I have no family.” Her voice turned weak, barely more than a whisper.
“Well that does not matter anymore. You have to go now.” Donald’s hands motioned in a tired fashion and a servant came forward and handed her a bag of her belongings. “I have given you a thirty gold pieces. That should be enough for a time before you either smarten up and get married or find some way to support yourself.”
“Thank you for your generosity. Am I allowed to go to the kitchen first and pack some food.” Her will was destroyed. She fought all these years for her freedom why fight it now when given to her? “At least the bread I bought yesterday in the market and some dried meat and cheese?”
Lord Benson waved his hand and nodded. “Give her enough food to last her a month. Pack her saddle bags also with a weapon and horse feed. Her horse has gotten spoiled.” A servant nodded and went into the kitchen along the left wall. HE looked towards Iuyania and replied “Go to the kitchen and get some hot breakfast before you leave.”
“Thank you Lord Benson.” and without another word she parted from the great hall following the servant to the kitchen.
Written on June 16, 2011
Warmth grazed her cheek from an open window. Such a treat to her alabaster skin. A cool breeze entered through the open window and set chills along her skin. how precious it was to feel the wonderments of nature. Oh how she hated being locked up inside all the time, a sin she would never forgive her people for. Their wickedness is what makes these stone walls her sanctuary away from their crimes. The horrible things they did that the merciful king took her away to shield her from their evil ways. She was so thankful he did, she could not even imagine growing up in a place that was so filled with hate and blood.
“Come away from there Ilayda. I do not want you to catch a cold.” The old woman in the chair opposite the room lifted her head from her careful embroidery. The careful scene of lions playing was so delicate, Ilayda always envied the woman for her tiny stitches. Ilayda was always more gifted with the hard though. Her fingers loved to love rapidly against the strings as her voice carried a tune of the great epic love stories. Her harp was currently residing in the great hall however.
“Come sit by me and practice your stitches. For having such a delicate, well everything, I am surprised you do not have the smallest stitches I have ever seen. Come and practice your butterfly pattern. You will want to make a handkerchief someday where they are perfect.”
“Yes, Nivera.” She replied as she sat in the chair almost as a leaf would upon the ground in the fall. She picked up her small loom and started yet again another butterfly began to emerge from the white cloth. She could never fully concentrate when she stitched anything from nature. Her mind always saw them coming to life, more and more with every stitch. She lost herself in the prairie of flowers dancing and singing with the birds and animals. She always imagined the smell of flowers in the sunlight to be sweet like honey. She was barely allowed to be out in the gardens at night, so even thinking of the day was beyond question. How her heart longed for it so. She did not even know why, the king always made she got everything she wanted and more. Like the white silk slippers she wore, or her white gown of finest cotton cloth and a beautiful white cloak that had ties embellished with silver to match the small flowered circlet that sat upon her head of red curls. Her wardrobe was filled with the finest things and yet her heart seemed like something was missing. Sighing she laid her loom in her lap and let her mind wonder not able to complete another one of her stitches.
Written on June 16th, 2011
By the light of only his solitary candle he studied the ancient text that rested on the table. Dwyn sat in the corner of the busy tavern, hoping the dancing bar maids and drunken fools did not notice him hiding his intent in the shadows.
“Whatcha doing hiding here in the corner? Don’t ya see the party going on? You should join in.” A browned haired man with a strong smell of ale on his breath sat down across the table from Dwyn. Dwyn snapped the leather bound cover shut and looked at the man who was quickly irritating him.
“I don’t enjoy soical escapades.”
“Touchy, touchy, I see. But word of advice your not hiding, just looking conspicuous. Yes I can use “big” words too. Food for thought, try to be less less obvious. Now if you excuse me there is a bar maid calling my name, if ya know what I mean” The man elbowed Dwyn and shuffled off to the arms of a comely woman with an ample bosom.
Wondering if he should take the advice of the drunken man he let his fingers linger in the flames of the candle. The flames danced upon the wall when he saw the shadows of men looking at him and decided that the man’s advice was sound and headed back up to the room he shared with his companion.”
More to come! Enjoy!
Written on June 13, 2011
“Silence,” the thought resonating through his mind as he sit deep within a forest of lush green. “Complete silence and nothing-ness.” His legs crossed and back straight he tried to concentrate on what his teachers had taught him. Inner silence. This wind blew through his long black hair and tussled it in the ground mixing the ends with leaves and grass. “Concentrate.” he spoke aloud as he found he was allowing his mind to travel with the movement of his body. Pressing his eye lids tighter together he tried to make his body relax, concentrating on what shouldn’t be there and allowing them to drift away like seeds on the wind.
He felt something weighted on his shoulder, he tried brushing it away “Probably just a leaf.” However it wasn’t a leaf, light fingers brushed his hair back from his neck and moved his hair in such a way that he could not ignore this presence any longer. He opened his eyes and broke his meditation and standing next to him was a golden rays of hair surrounding pale skin of morning rays of light.
“Sola.” he acknowledged her presence and turned back to his meditative pose.
“Oh don’t be that way Nyth.”
“You know I did not want to see you again.” But as he spoke the words her lips closed on his neck on that spot. He closed his eyes in reflex while trying to suppress a moan trying very hard to escape his lips.
“Sola. Leave. Now.”
“Why, we both now you can’t take me but I can definitely take you.”
“Sola. Just leave. I don’t want to deal with you right now.”
“But what if I want to deal with you.” She gave him that look reserved only for him, the look for his inner torment.
“Fine. I can see you do not want to play. Later though I might not want to and it will be your loss.”
“I will take my chances.” Glad to be rid of her presence he tried to meditate again but his mind just reveled in the way that he hated how he needed her. ’Silence” he repeated to himself again before starting his exercises all over again.
Written on May 26, 2011
Chills run across her skin as a storm rolls in. She can feel it in her bones, even though it looks bright and sunny now the smell of the air and change in the wind. Some call her Rain Caller, Enchanter of Rain, she always knows when it will come but just the smell of a breeze. She estimated now it would be a full out thunder storm before dusk. She moved her skirts as she settled herself on top of a grassy hill. The grass prickled her bare legs but she did not pay any attention, she watched in silent mediation as the clear day disappeared and black clouds appeared on the horizon. When the clouds finally came nearly over her she lifted her skirts and started walking casually down the hill towards her humble cottage. She gathered some firewood while it still was dry and placed it inside her front oak door and allowed herself to be blessed by the first drops of rain over her home. They kissed her skin like a new born babe, the cool droplets leaving goose flesh in their wake. A huge smile broke her tranquil face as life seeped into the dry ground beneath her and into her soul. Rain was life, rain was everything, rain she could always count on.
Her smile drifted at that thought. Why did her memories always have to ruin a wondrous moment. Rain was a miracle and she should never let spoiled memories ruin it. She forced the smile back on her face and thanked the gods for this miracle before stepping inside the cobble stone home she had fixed up years ago. She could always count on her home to need fixing up too, she thought to herself. It was a chore she never truly minded either. Constant repair to her leaking roof, or drafty windows or the weeding in the garden. She always had liked her solitude but the other times it became very lonely. The repair to the house was one thing that kept her too preoccupied to dwell on her loneliness. The rain she used as her comfort. She rarely went into town. Most of her supplies she grew or trapped herself but those rare moments she was forced to make the walk into town felt always like a walk of shame.
Rain Caller was her name when the people wanted her wisdom, if they needed a rain to come or for the rains to stop, but otherwise she was seen as unnatural. The word filled her stomach with a thought of nauseousness when she realized her best cooking pot had worn a hole in it and she needed the blacksmith. Her mind was reeling of how she could get away with needing her pot, but it was only excuses. She knew she had to go but she would be darned if she did not make this her last. She was going to finally escape her gift, and make the life she always wanted