Tuesday Tales – Beat – Masked: Zathe

Zathe

Welcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is Beat. 

And I’m back with my little short story fantasy series. This week I’m going to return to the princesses most favored handmaiden, Zathe. Zathe has the unique trait of orange eyes, which are common in the royalty of the neighboring land, Ustrington, though Zathe is not of that lineage. Also, her ability to detect and nullify poisons makes her the top handmaiden in the castle.

Today she is going to see her brother, Dryn, off on his quest to gather this years plentiful crop of prapples from the hag. And so we meet Dryn through his sister’s eyes:

Zathe rushed through the corridors and down the stairs fast as she dared. To behave improperly would draw the ire of the Queen herself. Though Zathe herself might be safe from personal punishment due to her vital role in the safety of the princess, her family was not free from the impact of her actions.

After they’d had their morning meal, Zathe had been granted leave to see her brother off on his quest for the prapples. As the quest had never been undertaken by anyone she knew, she was curious what it would entail. All she did know was at best he would return with enough prapples to last a year.

At worst, his memory of the event would be wiped and he’d be injured. Such things had happened to men sent to the task, and she couldn’t help but fear for her brother.

She knew her mother would be granted no such leave to see off her son, so Zathe took the task ahead of her seriously. Perhaps on her way back into the castle she would slip through the kitchens to tell the all-too-brief tale of Dryn’s departure.

Zathe stepped into the bright sunlight of the courtyard, relishing in the warmth of the day after the cool halls of stone inside. She and her brother had always preferred the outdoors, though her life hadn’t lent to it, Dryn was blessed enough to work outside the castle.

Though he had no magic, his skill with horses had left him in charge of the stables at a young age. As such, he was more well-fed and clothed than a normal stable boy. More than that, he was granted his own private cabin on the edge of the grounds, and a horse of his choosing.

Truth be told, Zathe was a smidgeon jealous of her brothers freedom to roam about the grounds. Zathe was sentenced to a life at the princess’s side at all times, and though her skill was with plants, Ani hardly left the castle walls.

Zathe approached the large cart in front of her brother’s cabin hesitantly. She saw no sign of her brother about, but two large beasts were hooked to the cart in place of horses. Xorns were ugly creatures with large horns that could gore a man, but made good beasts of burden for crops and large loads if you could control them.

The creatures had always frightened her, so she made a wide berth around the cart. “Dryn? Are you inside?”

“There you are!” The familiar voice startled her from behind. When she turned, she found the matching orange-hued eyes of her brother alit with mischief. “I knew you’d break free today to see me off, sister.”

“I was granted permission, I did no such thing as break free.” She grinned despite her chiding and embraced him. In the six months since she’d seen him last, he’d filled out even more until he was larger than any Estarian male she’d met. “You’d do best to remember that ‘free’ is something we are not.”

“One day we will be.”

“Hush. If you are heard, you know there would be consequences. Not for us, but they would beat our mother to make us suffer. We are not free.” Her smile disappeared as she spoke. While a small piece of her wished for such a thing, she didn’t carry the hope her brother did. She blamed his freedom outside the castle walls for his carelessness. “You spend too much time in the air. You’d do well to remember your place.”

“I’m sorry, sister.” He kissed her forehead and folded her into his arms. “I always forget how you gained all the worry that I did not in the womb, and I gained all the bravado you shunned and continue to hide from.”

“Because for myself bravado is dangerous. You need them to deal with such things as those ugly Xorns.”

“They hear you. You wouldn’t fear them so much if you saw beyond your fear.” He clasped her hand and dragged her around the front of the cart. “Stop squirming.”

She tried to do as he said when one of the Xorn fixed its wild yellow eye on her. With her fists clenched tight as her stomach she stood rigid beside her twin.

“Relax. Give me your hand.” Dryn lifted her arm. With one swipe of his palm, her fist opened to lie flat above the animals nose. “He won’t hurt you, though you hurt his feelings. Gently now, rest your hand here.”

Before she could offer any protest over the lump of fear in her throat, her palm was on the Xorns large, flat nose. She gasped in surprise at the smooth, velvety surface. “Goodness. I had no idea their fur was so soft. It’s softer than a horse.”

“And a horse is only soft on the nose, the rest of the fur is tough and scratchy. The Xorn are like silk strands of a spider web, but tougher still. See? They aren’t so bad, perhaps you should apologize to Norf.”

“Norf? You named him Norf?” She cast a sideways glance his direction, but he merely shrugged in response.

“It’s his name. I didn’t say I named him.”

Zathe turned back to the creature and sighed. “Well, then I am sorry, Norf. Please forgive me, and take care of Dryn on your journey. He worries me with his brashness, and I would like to see him again.”

The Xorn bowed its head low enough for her to see a star shaped patch of green fur between his horns before he straightened again.

“I’ll not upset the hag, Zathe. I will do nothing to leave this place until I can take you with me. I promise you that much.”

“Dryn, you promised.” She continued to pet the animal’s nose, but her gaze automatically scanned the area for fear of someone overhearing them.

“Sorry.”

“How is it you know I insulted him? He is an animal.”

“That is something you shouldn’t ask if you fear beatings for our kin, Zathe.” He kissed her temple. “Now I must go. My journey is long, and circuitous. I am to leave it to Norf and Hef to guide me, and they say we will be gone days.”

“You don’t even know where you’re going?”

“No. In fact I am to sleep for part of the journey and leave it to the Xorn.”

“Then I will ask the Goddess to keep you safe, and trust the Xorn to help you stay that way.” Zathe hugged him tight. “Be careful, Dryn. Please be kind to the hag should you see her.”

“I promise. I will do nothing to cause myself or our kin harm on my journey.”

“Thank you. When you return we will know when the ball shall be. You’ll attend, won’t you?”

“Why? I am no more destined for a match than yourself.” Their unique skills left them both cursed to a life without a match.

“Beautiful women in finery to dance with. They don’t know you will never be their match when you are in a mask.”

“You do know how to tempt me.”

“Plus, it gives us an excuse to be able to see each other again without having to wait six months this time.”

“And you have won this argument.”

She grinned. “Good. Be safe, Dryn.”

“You do the same.”

 

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Flavor – Masked: Elora

Welcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is flavor. 

I have been out of the loop for a while. I’m super wrapped up in a few stories, and working on goals and real life is just absolutely insane.

Still, I wanted to try to do something different for TT, something that took me away from my crazy deadlines and being knee-deep in certain worlds. Something that took me to a new place.

And so, I have finally begun working on a short-story series/antho that I’ve had in my mind for a while, without a set plot or destination. Now I do, and it will be a foray into the realm of fantasy (possibly erotic, it’s leaning that way). The series will be called Masked. For a while I will be exclusively working on it in Tuesday Tales, jumping possibly from story to story, character to character depending on the prompt and the inspirational image.

This weeks entry belongs to Elora. She is a recluse living deep in the woods in the shadow of the castle with her companion, Sabra (a giant feline that looks akin to a Caucasian Ovcharka, except it’s feline, of course). She only emerges into public once a year for the masquerade ball:

Elora walked along the long line of her prapple tree grove, examining each tree as she passed. The sweet fruit filled the trees to almost bursting. Many in the kingdom longed for the secret behind her own specially created fruit, but it was a secret, and a crop, she kept as well-hidden as all of her secrets.

She turned her gaze toward the castle on the hill, where she imagined the princess was looking down on her. Their connection had been denied for so long, she no longer felt it as she once had. Instead, she’d bonded with her land, and with her familiar, Sabra. In fact, with their connection so weakened Elora doubted the princess could even see Elora’s land any longer, hidden under spells and camouflage as it was.

Elora reached toward a fruit on the last tree in the row and plucked the delicate prapple from the branch. As she examined the marbled green and red skin, Sabra came around the side of the cottage. Sabra was a rare breed indeed, much like the prapples.

The large feline came up to Elora’s shoulders, her fur was fluffy and thick. Only the long ears, golden almond-shaped eyes, and narrow, sloping nose read as feline. Filema’s were, in the wild, a savage and brutal creature, now hunted to near extinction.

Elora had no fear of Sabra, for they’d bonded when Sabra was quite young, and Elora could hope for no better protector. She glanced at Sabra and smiled. “Well, my friend. Do I dare try?”

Sabra tilted her head, one furry brow lifted as she focused on the fruit in Elora’s hand.

“I’ve already plucked it, so I may as well try, I think.” Elora lifted the fruit to her mouth and took a bite. The juices slid along her chin, and the flesh burst and melted in her mouth. The sweet, rich flavor rolled along her tastebuds.

She smiled as she wiped her chin with the edge of her cape sleeve. “Almost perfect, Sabra. In another day we will be able to lie out the baskets and shake the trees.”

Sabra kneaded her forepaws into the crowd, a rumbling purr filling the grove.

“Then it will be time for market.” Elora grasped the edge of her hood in a bout of nerves. “I wonder who the princess will send to manage our goods this year.”

As capable as Elora was with magic, there was no magic that could disguise the human form, or alter it in any way. She would never be able to go into the public market, to see another soul, save for one night a year.

One night that was fast approaching.

Elora took another bite of her prapple, checking to make sure no seeds had snuck into the crop. As a way to keep everyone buying her fruit and helping supply her with the necessities she needed, she made sure the fruit was seedless. Between that and her well-warded lands, no one else would be able to create the same fruit.

As she walked, Sabra followed suit, her tall ears flickering constantly for signs of intrusion. Even so, one of her large gold eyes stayed on the fruit in Elora’s hand. Elora chuckled and tossed the rest at the cat. “Enjoy, you beast.”

Sabra caught it easily, but froze. One ear flicked and she tilted her head to the sky.

Elora took her lead and turned her head toward the tall-topped trees above. One leaf caught in the wind, floating and fluttering about. It wove a trail through the open air around her home, until it swayed on downward.

She lifted her hand and the wayward leaf landed in her hand. When she lowered her hand, she discovered the leaf was shimmering gold in color. “Oh, Sabra, do you know what this is?”

Sabra crunched her fruit and offered nothing more than a sniff.

“The first leaf of the season change. That means it will be soon. The masquerade.” She turned back toward the castle, excitement stirred in her belly.

The masquerade was the one day every year she could emerge from her isolation. When her defect didn’t make her stand out, in fact it allowed her to view the world as she was meant to for one single night.

She lifted her hands and ran her fingers along the ridges of flesh surrounding her eyes like a mask the wealthy would pay a mint for. The thick eyelashes like the fur of her companion and black rimmed eyes that ladies of leisure tried to mimic with coal on the night of the masquerade.

With the first golden leaf fallen, soon would come the reds, and then the oranges. When all the trees burned orange like the setting suns, the masquerade would come.

And she would be ready for it this year unlike any other. For this year she was twenty one. This would have been her year to become what she was meant to be. For one night, she would be what was taken from her.

And she would live as never before.

*~*

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Best of Tuesday Tales

Hybrid_MED

Over the next couple of months with the holidays we’re doing some “Best of” weeks with Tuesday Tales. We pick the best, or our favorite, Tuesday Tales from our run in the group and post those instead of using a word prompt.

I thought for my first “best of” I’d go back to the beginning. My first week in Tuesday Tales I started this story. With my insanely busy year in publishing I haven’t had time to finish up this first chapter of the Hybrid stories, but it still holds a dear place for me and I hope to get back to it in 2014.

Without further ado, I invite you to revisit Hybrid…my first ever Tuesday Tales post which used the prompt: Light.

The high pitched whine of a delivery truck’s brakes penetrated the sanctuary of peace I’d built. Heavy footsteps plodded through the snow, a shadowy form growing larger through the intricate frosted glass.

Tension started to wind its way through each of my relaxed muscles. The calm center I’d managed to find popped like a bubble at the peal of our insanely loud doorbell.

So much for meditation.

With the kids at school and husband at work I thought maybe I could manage to find peace and quiet for five minutes. That’s what I get for making plans.

“I could try again.” Even as I said it, I knew it was just too much work.

Besides, curiosity tugged my attention toward the door.  Despite last year’s mad obsession with the home shopping channels, I’d been very good about not buying a whole lot this year. I couldn’t recall ordering anything in the past week.

Maybe Darren had ordered something.

I snorted as I rose to my feet.  Darren wouldn’t order anything online. Doesn’t trust the internet, big brother, or the space needle. I have always thought it was adorable, really. The man didn’t even own a smartphone.

Everyone owns smartphones. Even everyone in the government he’s so afraid of.

I pulled open the door and found a small box, hardly worth shipping via the big shipping company. Addressed to Carolyn Riese. Me. Return address, oddly smudged until unreadable.

My hackles raised and I glanced around the quiet neighborhood.

Nothing out of the ordinary caught my eye, but my nerves stayed on edge. Winter covered every naked branch and home, covering the world in white silence. A loud scream from a hawk made me jump out of my skin. I found it high in a tree.

Despite the risk of a neighbor seeing I let my third lid blink so I could see beyond the normal. The moment the membrane restored my inhuman sight the world around me changed. Light shimmered and echoed through each snowflake until the ground itself was as blinding as the sun.

Rays of red light streamed down from the tree, echoing sun-dogs in its effect. The red-tailed hawk had revealed itself to be a phoenix.

They were watching me.

If I ignored the package, the consequence could be great.

“It’s only been fifteen years.”

The phoenix turned its head at my complaint, fiery wings flapping before it lifted into the air and soared toward me.

I snatched the box from the porch and slammed the door before he got too close. The box settled in my lap as I sank to the floor. It couldn’t be.

There was still an option to ignore the box, but if I did they’d turn my life upside down in worse ways than I could imagine.

I couldn’t let that happen.

*~*

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