Latest Posts by lunarangel777 - Page 3
"Toby!" I called out to the celestial minister.
He visibly sighed. "Yes, my king?" I knew he was just tired.
I beamed at him. "I would like for you to follow me."
"Why?"
I slung my arm around his neck. "I have something for you."
He looked at me as he reminded me, "The last time you wanted to do that, you had a constellation there in the flesh and not where it belonged in the sky!"
I rolled my eyes at the memory. "You know that my brother and I see you as family, right?"
"Yeah..." he trailed off.
"I know that you worry about us, too. So," I pulled a small, plain box out of my cloak and handed it to him, "I want to give you peace of mind."
He gingerly opened the box. He pulled out the pin I'd asked an apprentice metal worker to make. It was divided in half, one side a warm yellow and the other a gentle white, and some silver going down between the two.
"What-?"
"If either of us are in trouble, the respective sides will light up. Yellow for my brother and white for me," I explained.
"But... Why?" He looked up at me. "I-I mean, I appreciate the gift but why did you give me a gift?"
"Tommorow is your birthday."
"You aren't planning to do anything stupid, are you?"
I smiled, "I don't want my brothers to worry. So, no, I will stay here."
The unicorn pawed the ground, aggrivated. I didn't know much about animals but I was taking this as a warning.
"It's okay," my stranger soothed, walking forward slow enough to not spook the oakwood unicorn.
It grunted and looked like it was about to charge and skewer him to a tree.
"Hey!" he snapped at the sentinel. He had guts to even think about doing that to a sentinel.
The unicorn reared its head in a way as if to ask, "What are you going to do?"
The highwayman walked forward with the same commanding presence that he just used. My best guess is that he needed the unicorn to know that he was in no mood for funny business.
"Hey, there," he murmured when he could pet the unicorn's mossy head. "Do you want a snack? Snack?" He pulled an apple out and presented it to the sentinel.
The oakwood unicorn, much calmer now, ate the apple.
"Come on, let's sit down," the highwayman suggested while he guided the unicorn down.
It nickered as it lied down beside him. Just as he put his hand in its hair, it laid it head down on his lap.
"And here I thought that only pure maidens could do that to a unicorn," I commented.
The highwayman just smiled up at me, "I have a horse like this one back at home." He looked down at the unicorn. "Mine has beautiful black fur and a sweet temperament."
The unicorn grumbled.
"Hey, I'm a little biased since she is my horse. You are a very handsome boy for a unicorn but you can't let my horse know that I said that, okay?" he told the resting unicorn.
The unicorn rolled so its head rested on the highwayman's abdomen. As the unicorn was moving, my highwayman made it so he was on his back.
"I'm very uncomfortable," he told me. I think he was on a decent sized, dull rock.
The unicorn nickered.
"Oh? Are you comfortable?" the highwayman asked the unicorn in possible sarcasm.
It had the audacity to nicker again.
His head hit the ground as he mumbled, "Of course you are." His troubled gaze found me again. "You better get comfortable, too. We might be here for awhile."
I couldn't help but giggle a little.
The gentle king was surrounded by many children, as if he himself was one.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold in my tears.
Why was it that I couldn't have that? Why did I have to be feared?
I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was getting emotional over a picture used to tell tales to children.
Through foggy eyes, I looked back at the kind; fabled king. Why couldn't he be real?
The young mage whimpered in my arms when the first soldier passed by our hiding spot. It had been awhile and I'd have to be careful not to overdo it.
Taking a calming breath, I pulled her closer to me and pulled the light from the area, bathing our spot in shadow.
A few men stopped and started going over the area. The metal in their shoes and legs were deafeningly loud.
I tugged the mage closer to me still. I could feel her erratic heartbeat as we waited for our fate.
They had moved to another section of the surrounding wooded area before they were suddenly called back to where they came from.
When they were gone, I allowed the mage to go.
"What caused them to go back?" she asked me.
How could I answer? I had a feeling I knew but didn't want to scare the poor girl.
"They might be getting ready to rotate the guards," I offered, "and they might be the replacements."
She seemed satisfied with my answer.
"Come on, we're almost to the capital," I encouraged her, not so subtle about the change of subject.
The Northern Vulpes is always the first constellation to appear in the autumn sky. I loved how the kids would create stories for each other about how mischievous or clever or generous it was to the other constellations.
During one of the celestial festivals, the moon released some animals that looked like the Northern Vulpes. They had illuminated pelts that even shone in the day.
Coyotes had warm colors while the wolves, who were much larger like real wolves, had cooler tones.
The children loved them. Some preferred the coyotes while others preferred the wolves.
Over the years, some of those beings just… ran away. This was a couple hundred years ago, though. There have been sightings of some but the beings always run off before anything can be done.
Mostly, though, they don't bother us and we don't bother them.
The constant clatter of swords and the elegant movement always calmed me. The twirl here and a parry there.
The extra weight of the graceful blade felt like it was natural.
But life can't always be this way can it? Somehow, either you or someone else gets hurt. I guess you can only choose your actions and words carefully to minimize the damage.
"I made a promise years ago to a boy who's hair was color of autumn and eyes the color of spring," I murmured a reminder as I cleaned off my broadsword.
The large firebird screeched as he flew low enough to scorch the lower trees. The troops screamed in terror and abandoned their posts.
"Do you have to do this every time we go to war?" I asked my older twin brother.
"To be fair, what would you do if you saw a phoenix flying right at you?" he returned. He was in control of the phoenix and made sure that no one was too seriously injured.
"Fair enough." I glanced over at him. "I could've sent my Púca after the captain and a few others to scare them off."
He chuckled, "I appreciate the offer but my phoenix is already out there."
"Whatever it takes," I started, watching the forest burn in the night.
"To keep our kingdom safe," my brother finished.
The highwayman nodded off a little more with each flicker of the fire in front of us. He wasn't supported at all. If he wasn't careful, he might fall forward and into the flames.
Once he was in a deep sleep, I crept to his side. He looked so innocent and vulnerable but overshadowing all of that was exhausted. Whatever it was that he was either running from or towards had him tired.
Still making sure not to disturb him, I moved him so he was resting his head on my lap.
Whatever is haunting him during his time awake, he needed to put to rest.
We were at the base of a stone tree made by men. The tree had stiff branches all the way at the top. But what held the attention of the man beside me was a stone in the tree. There were markings but I couldn't understand them.
"What do they say?" I asked before I reached out.
He took my hand as gentle as he could.
"It says, 'Bitter are the wars between brothers.' It is a proverb from ages past."
"But why is it here?" There was an unspeakable pain in his eyes. Why was he hurt? Was it because of the proverb?
"The king put this here as a reminder of what happened, I imagine," he answered, leading me away after taking one last good look at the stone.
"Pour soul," I murmured as I came across someone who lost their way and perished in the desert. Necromancy is illegal and only useable by mages who heal people. I heal and raise plants.
The soil was too hard for me to bury the person and the rocks were far too hot for me to carry so I draped some stitched furs I had in my bag.
I knelt and prayed a quick prayer that this soul would be guided safely over to the other side.
"And you're sure that this will work?" I questioned the tinkers I'd assigned to this position.
"Almost completely certain," the head tinker confirmed. He looked more wisened than the others. If my memory is right, he has been a tinker since he was a lad.
"If it does work," I started as I looked into it's hollow eyes, "it will save many lives."
It looked like the twelve that were already here when I came to power but it held some semblance to some of my brother's, as well.
"It's ready when you are, your majesty," the head tinker said.
"Hour thirteen," I stated with authority, "what do you see?"
The eyes lit up with a hollow orange color as it was activated.
"I see the fall of night," it replied. The wording was odd.
"Does it work?" I turned to the tinker who stood beside me. He was younger than the head tinker, his hair was comforting like the autumn.
"Well, it is dusk. So, I guess it does," he answered me in a meek tone. This tinker worked day and night on how it was supposed to work and behave.
"I'm not allowing it out unless you're sure it works," I told him in a tone that I would use with nightmare victims.
He looked down, still timid.
"Are you sure this works?" I repeated, still as patient as ever.
"Yes, it works," he affirmed, more certain now.
I smiled. There was the spark I was looking for.
"Thank you for your service, Hour Thirteen," I thanked, directing my attention to the waiting clockwork soldier.
"The night will not be long," it said.
I didn't like how empty it sounded but the tinkers told me that as it aged, it would start filling up with moments.
"The night is never very long," I told it. Day always follows night.
"No! You let him go, Drosera!" I commanded the larger than usual plant. It was taller than the highwayman and rivaling some trees in height.
"Do you know just how long I've been starving?" The Drosera nymph demanded. "Then, along comes something that I can finally eat."
"You can't eat him! Let him go!" I repeated my demand. My throat hurt like it was roughly rubbed against an oak tree's bark.
"Am I supposed to feel tingley?" the highwayman asked as the Drosera's tentacle wrapped itself tighter around him.
"How much food do you have on you?" I asked my highwayman. How could I let him die when we've gone so far already? But I also didn't know how much food he had stored away. If it isn't a decent amount, then he might starve later.
"Enough to feed this thing," he replied in a vague way. There were seedlings of worry but other than that he was sure in his choice.
"But-"
"Dump the contents out of the side that is furthest from me," he instructed while he gestured to his bag.
As I did what he ordered, I wanted to believe that there was another way. But we hadn't seen any animals since we entered the bog.
"Let him go and I'll give you three pieces," I bartered, moving the three largest pieces forward.
The nymph hesitated. It burned energy it needed to catch him and now I was asking it to burn more.
"How much energy are those worth?" it asked in a cautious tone.
"At least half of what you'd get out of him."
"I'm starting to feel a serious tingle right now and I don't like it," he called.
With great effort, the Drosera let my highwayman go. As I had promised, I gave it the three pieces of meat.
"I still feel a tingle. Is that normal?"
"Go to the creek we saw a few miles back and at least rinse yourself off. The acid is still trying to eat you," I instructed him.
Without a word, he left me with the nymph.
"What's that shiny and long blade of grass you use called?"
He looked down as he hesitated.
When he looked up, he answered as if he was trying to melt the frost with his touch, "It can be called a 'blade' but for me, it's a broadsword."
"You can hurt people with that, right?" I asked him. It didn't look that dangerous to me if it could.
He lurched back like I hurt him.
"If it came to it, yes," he answered, all the same.
I didn't like that I was going to hurt something but I picked a blade of grass.
"Do you want to know what I can do with this?" I twirled the blade between my fingers.
He just looked at me odd.
I held the blade the way the nymphs taught me and blew some air. The shrill sound caught him off guard. Laughter overcame me like the abrupt rain the area we're in is known for.
"Will you teach me how to do that?" he asked when I calmed down enough to talk.
It was at that moment that I realized that I would do what I could for him like I would for any of my plants back at home.
"It would be my genuine pleasure," I replied with a smile.
Author's Note
I am reading "Fictober" as you have to write fiction everyday, not fan fiction.
The highwayman looked at me steadily.
"Honesty doesn't mean stupidity," he simply stated.
When we passed a sick rosebush, I sacrificed some life force, only enough for it to get back to perfect health.
The nymph hugged me as tight as she dared. I could see that she was on her way to become compost while she was sick.
"Did you help another plant?" the highwayman questioned after I convinced the nymph to go back to her plant.
"How could you tell?" I didn't bother trying to lie. He always knew when I was being honest and when I wasn't.
"Your breathing is labored and you're slightly shaking," he just as easily answered while he started setting up camp. He looked up at me and with some hidden compassion requested, "Have a seat."
I sat on a slightly slopped rock and waited for him to say or do something.
We sat for a few moments in silence while he cooked some fish. Was he cooking for himself?
"Here," he said after pulling out a ceramic plate and a fork before handing the plated fish to me.
I knew he knew how I regain lost life by eating cooked animal meat. Being gracious and grateful, I nibbled on what he prepared for me. I also wondered when he was planning on leaving.
"I'm not going anywhere until you've finished your meal," the highwayman assured me.
"Aren't you hungry?"
He gave a small smile, "I can wait until dusk for a meal." He looked like he has been in this situation before.
"Do you have enough for yourself?" If he was going to go hungry, then I wasn't going to have all of the fish.
"I'm always prepared, so yes, I have food for myself as well." His eyes drooped a little, his posture slouched, and his head nodding off a little.
I nibbled slowly enough that he fell asleep while he waited for me. When I finished my cooked fish, I have took off my cloak and tucked it around him.
It has been a long day for him.
"Hey, pretty girl," I murmured to the Púca I adopted when she was a small filly.
She grunted a quiet greeting before she came up to me. She grabbed a bit of the fabric on my shoulder and gave it a gentle tug.
"How long has it been since I last saw you?"
She whinnied but let go of my shoulder.
"Since yesterday?" I gave a fake frustrated sigh, "That's too long!" I hugged her around her neck. Her fur was coarser than that of other horses and ponies I've met but I wouldn't change anything about her. The other ones are nice but they aren't her.
She nudged me enough to take a small step back, reminding me why I originally came down to visit her.
"Do you want a snack?" I asked her. "Snack?"
She nuzzled me a bit harder.
"Which hand is the snack in?" She was always a smart girl.
She stood there for a moment before nudging my right shoulder. I rolled the apple to my right hand and held it out to her.
"Smart girl," I murmured as she ate the apple. I rubbed her ears just the way she likes it. "I'm going to talk to my big, fat, mean brother to see if I can't bring you into the court so I can give you all the love and rubs you want." I couldn't stop a soft chuckle. "He isn't big, fat, or mean."
The Púca I've known since she was a filly nickered in agreement. She's met my brother and likes him well enough but still doesn't like how he keeps her from me.
"You be nice to him the next time you see him, okay?" I murmured against her forehead.
My highwayman and I started picking out way through an abandoned fishing village. The snow piled up was ridiculous, so much that some buildings were almost completely buried.
The sound of noise of something walking on snow made him freeze.
A clockwork soldier meandered its way around a building a little further down the lane.
"Maybe we shoul-"
"Excuse me!" I called out to the bypassing clockwork soldier.
It stopped and clicked as it turned to face both of us.
"Which hour are you?"
It clunked and clicked over to us.
"I am hour eleven," it informed me.
"Do you have anything to report?" the highwayman questioned it, his hands clasped behind his back.
The clockwork soldier gave a long spiel and all the while, the highwayman was scribbling down something. He always kept up with hour eleven.
"Thank you for your report but I need you to stay for a moment," my highwayman replied as he glossed over his notes.
"That's a bad word," I meekly pointed out one that always meant bad things.
He sighed out an agreement as he made circular movements around some markings he made.
The clockwork soldier chirped when the highwayman addressed him.
"Hour eleven, do you have access to the king at any moment?"
"When I am not active mostly but, yes, when I am active."
"Alright, I have a response to the king's proclamation."
"Why are there so many sunflowers, especially by the boarders?" my stranger asked when we passed a field of some bowing sunflowers.
"There's some bad magic, I don't know what, that the king has tried to protect the kingdom from. But everything he tried didn't work. Ages ago, the mages who used the magic I use figured out that sunflowers were the best defense."
"Did they ever tell the king what they found out?"
I knew he was looking at me but I couldn't tell which he was more concerned for - me or if the king found out sunflowers were good protectors against magic in general.
I stopped to look over the elderly sunflower field. They should be getting ready to go to seed so the next generation could defend the kingdom. But that also means that I have to work in some black gold deep into the soil for them.
"No. They never told him and he never found out," I solemnly stated. It's just not how we were.
💞💞💞💗💗💓
Thank you! 😍🤗
As we neared the next building in the abandoned town, the highwayman just offered me a hankie.
"Um. Why?" I questioned him as a light flurry fell between us.
"You've sneezed every time we go from direct sunlight," he told me as he looked up to the partially cloudy skies above, "into a building and vice versa."
Why would he care if I sneezed or not? It's just sneezing. Although, I never noticed that I did that before.
"Just get going," he muttered when he caught sight of my expression. But there was something else in his tone. He wasn't angry like I thought he'd be.
"Thank you," I whispered as I took the hankie; processing what I realized.
"You can thank me when we get to where we need to be."
Like he predicted, when we crossed into the threshold of the building, I sneezed.
“Lost things have a way of showing up when you need them most,” the king replied to the minister’s concern of a beloved object that belonged to the king’s disappearance. “What was lost will show up before you know it.” He lightly patted the minister’s shoulder before going off to face the festering crowd.
Great. I was on my way from the capital and one of those clockwork soldiers stopped me.
"Where are you going?" it asked as it stopped me from going any further.
I've been warned that there's still one functional at all times. I didn't know what time it was, so it might not be that one.
"What hour are you?" Every clockwork soldier works only during the hour it was named after. There are some that I think are either decoys or meant to scare people, since they never work.
"I am hour thirteen," it answered me, its empty eyes boring into mine.
This one, number thirteen, people have named the liar. No matter what it says, it is never true. I've met it once before and it said that it was going to snow in the middle of summer.
"I'm going home," I replied to the soldier. It's the law for citizens to answer human and clockwork soldiers.
There was a sound of clicking gears before it cocked its head off to the side and said, "Long live the King."
"Yeah," I muttered, walking by once he let me pass, "long live the King of the Day."
Its cold metal hand grabbed my wrist.
"Yes, long live the King of the Day. But I originally meant his brother."
The King's brother is a myth, a legend, something that never has and never will happen.
The clockwork soldier numbered thirteen let me go.
There were shrieks and peals of laughter as some little kids ran by. Today there was a festival being held for both the sun and moon. Most people, myself included, believed that the Elementals of the festival walked around and visited during the festival.
I've never seen them here but it's still fun to attend. Besides, the citizens put forth their best efforts for all festivals but especially for this one. I've made it a point to visit the vendors and buy something. You should see their faces light up when one of their kings deems their product worthy of purchase.
Sometimes, I see a little girl (almost never the same girl) selling flowers. Depending on the girl, the flowers vary from freshly picked to wilted and a few days withered. It didn't matter to me. I always bought a small cluster of flowers and gave more than enough to cover the cost. Those little girls were like the other vendors - get excited and happy that a king came to buy some of their flowers. But they would run to show their parents what they'd earned. I loved seeing that.
There was a married couple looking at some wares that a teenage boy was selling. They were talking to each other rapidly in another language.
I silently looked over the man's shoulder. The currency he was carrying wasn't one that I'd seen before.
Politely, I cut in and handed over a handful coins to the young man. I told the couple that if they wanted something, they could have it and that I'd covered the cost.
His smile warmed me like the sun as he thanked me. He picked out a small wood carving that depicted both the sun and moon. His wife selected a necklace with black pearls.
As they turned to leave, I asked if they planned on staying at least until the festival was over. They said that they were traveling across the land and decided to stop at the festival today. I gave them each a few coins and welcomed them to the kingdom. They both graciously thanked me for everything I've done so far.
Before the man got too far, his wife caught sight of the flowers that I bought from a little girl and complemented them. I directed her to where she could find the little girl who was bound to still be selling the flowers. I hesitated when I saw her downcast look when I just gave her directions. I planned on leaving them at the alter of the moon like I do every year.
I smiled and handed the flowers over, telling her that if she liked them so much, she could have them. Today was a day of celebration and I couldn't help but feel fuzzy in my heart when she smiled and caught up with her husband.
It wasn't going to kill me to help the little girl out again.
Later, after all the celebrations died down, I was almost to the alter of the moon. When I got there, there was a slip of paper waiting for me. Sometimes the moon would leave a message like this.
It read:
Thank you for helping the Sun and myself earlier today. He likes you.
Also, please be sure to thank that little girl who raised and picked the flowers you bought.
They're beautiful.
Yours Truly,
The Moon
"Tell me something I don't know," I asked the strange man.
He looked up into the mostly cloudy sky and said, "All kids have magic. Some are allowed to keep it while others outgrow it."
"What makes those kids loose magic?" I scooted closer to him.
He looked... lost. "I don't know exactly why some don't keep the magic. Some say that they stop believing in the Elemental of the magic. Others say it depends on if their family had magic in it." His forget-me-not colored eyes bore into mine. "Then you get those like you. No one has come up with a rhyme or reason as to why you and other mages like you are here."
"I think they're meant to be here. All the mages and regular people. Everything wouldn't be the same without anyone missing."
"What about the disgraced king?"
"He is needed, too."
There are a few walks longer than the one of going to make the grave of a friend. I'm on my way to make the grave of about five thousand friends. My men were sent to scout an area and were ambushed. No one survived. As I am their king and friend, I felt every death.
Right now, the least I could do for those men and their families is at least pay tribute to them. I knew each of them like I knew my own brother. There were no better men in the kingdom than those who just lost their lives.
The Mourning Mountain isn't too far but every step feels further away from it. I want to go back to the throne room and hear that they're coming back, safe and sound. Not that some of the bodies couldn't be recovered or identified. I don't want to hear that some families wouldn't be able to bury their loved one.
At least my brother and his men are okay. They'll be back before the week is over.
Sunlight rained through the grove. It was a long day and, to be honest, I wanted a nap. There was a stone that was large, flat, and grey, that wasn't too far from me but it was in direct sunlight. Just to test the heat of the rock, I lightly rested my hand against it and instantly recoiled it back. It was way too hot to even consider.
Abandoning the hot rock, I searched for another good place to rest. After a moment, I found one that was completely shaded by a large oak tree and was covered in moss. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the better option.
My messenger bag served as my pillow and my cape as my blanket. It didn't take a long time for me to fall asleep on this rock.
Hey!! You followed me so I checked out your blog and I just want to say I absolutely love your writing!! I love how magical n beautiful the scenes you create are!
Thank you. :) This actually made my day.