Queen of the Forest - Quips and Snippets

Well, I've realized that if I want to be able to edit my writing and have it turn out a little bit better, I won't be able to post something every day. I think the posts will turn out better this way, so that's the new plan! Hope you enjoy today's story!

Queen of the Forest

"Why are you crying?"
Surprised at the high pitched voice, Peter's head shot up in search for the speaker. He had been alone only moments ago when he had fallen to his knees and yet here was this tiny voice questioning him. The water dripping from his face had come on suddenly and he hadn't expected someone to interrupt his grief.
What once was a surrounding expanse of trees had somehow magically changed without a sound. An impish creature stood above him atop a hill shining two blue eyes in the darkness surrounding them. The creature seemed to be made completely of a dark wood, like a three foot tree with twiggy little limbs. Leading up to it was a range of cracked steps wrapping around a stone carved face weeded with moss.
The imp tweaked it's little head like Peter's dog had liked to do when he whistled "Merry Had a Little Lamb." A deep pain shot through him like searing fire in his heart. What if he never made it home? What if he never saw his family again? He couldn't help but wonder if his parents would remember to feed his dog.
"Why are you crying?" The creature called softly again. Peter felt like he should be afraid of the little impish creature, but something about the thing made him feel safer than he had in a long time.
"My name is Renbar." It said with a slight bow, "You should come with me, sir."
"Where?" Peter asked sniffing back his tears and taking to his feet.
"Come. She is waiting for you."
Renbar turned swiftly away and disappeared on the other side of the hill. Peter was left alone again, only this time he wouldn't let himself cry. He was tired of feeling so helpless. Racing up the steps, Peter chased after Renbar. The smell of the forest completely encompassed him as he ran. It was all so strange and different. The sound of the black trees, the scent of cool grass--nothing was the same as Earth. The well had brought him here and he had no way back.
Skipping in a weave through the trees, Renbar left Peter running to keep up. The path they followed  seemed to stretch on forever through the black forest. His eyes couldn't track of which direction they were going. It took all his concentration just to keep the little creature in sight.
"Wait!" Peter cried as he struggled to keep up. The great roots beneath his feet attacked him as he ran and within moments Renbar passed out of sight.
"Renbar!" Peter called, "Renbar!"
The forest seemed to soak up the words Peter had cried. The black trees gave no hint of understanding and Renbar was too far gone to hear him, but Peter kept running. He had no where else to go, no one else to turn to. Running seemed as good idea as any.
Finally, a root snagged his toe and Peter's legs were swept out from beneath him. He tumbled to the forest floor with a cry of pain. He rolled, elbowing himself hard in the ribs and causing his breath to fly from his lungs. Coughing and sputtering his pain, Peter ended up curled in a ball on the forest floor. He wanted to cry again. He was hurting all over his body and lost in a distant forest in an unknown land. What else could he do but cry?
Through his tear-soaked eyes, Peter saw a light appear brilliantly above him. He squinted up through his tears in an effort to find the source. He could tell it was a person by the silhouette surrounding it. Walking closer to him, the figure held out a hand. Shakily, Peter took it. He wasn't scared; just like Renbar, he felt a certain peace emanating from the person. Fear wasn't the reason he was shaking.
Peter looked into the face of the person that had pulled him up. Flowing blonde hair fell upon her white dress. He found that the light didn't hurt his eyes anymore, nor did it cast any shadows around him.
"Who are you?" Peter asked.
The woman only smiled, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling with joy. Something about the smile looked familiar. And those eyes... Peter knew those eyes. He had seen them his whole life. They were his eyes, but they were also....
"Mom?"


art by John-Paul Balmet

The Magician - Quips and Snippets

Hello all! Here goes my first post. I couldn't be more terrified about posting my writing for all to see, but here we are. I'm going to try and post something every day for 30 days (Thanks Carly Higgins for the inspiration). I may miss a day or two so I apologize for that. Take a moment, grab a cup of coffee, juice, water, soda, or anything that soaks your fancy and read a little fantasy.

THE MAGICIAN

Adrianne strut down the street trying to ignore the hustle and bustle of the Pier Folk around her. She never liked this place. It was always too noisy and full of drunk men looking for something no sane woman would ever give them. The dilapidated houses stank of rot and she couldn’t help but feel like the world was watching her everytime she entered into the disgusting streets.

Adrianne had grown up in a place much like the Pier. Perhaps that was what made her so evasive towards the area. Her mother had run off with some pirate and her father… Well he might as well have left her too. She spent her entire childhood begging for scraps on the streets. She vowed to never go back to that way of life. It had taken her years, but she had finally made it to the top.

Her heels clacked against the stones as she made her way toward the blacksmith. People like her didn’t mix with people from the Pier. That’s why she was watched so intently. They may not know her name, but her clothes shouted wealth. She didn’t make eye contact with any of those around her. To look into their eyes would give them power to disrupt her.

Just as Adrianne was slithering past some gruff seamen, her gaze fell into the alley on her right. She came to an abrupt stop as her eyes widened in disbelief. A boy with silver hair sat upon a rotten box surrounded by children. His face gave no hint to his age. She would have guessed he was young, but somehow she wasn’t sure. He was clad in blue with a sword laying on the ground to his side, but the thing that had surprised her were the blue butterflies twittering around his open hand.

In front of her very eyes she saw more of the shining blue critters fly from his right pointing finger. Two of the children around him laughed loudly as they chased the flying lights. The third had dropped her bear as she gazed in awe at a little ball of blue fire the boy had conjured in his left hand. The small girl reached her hand out to touch the little light.

“It’s cold.” The little girl said happily as she pulled away.

“Well, we wouldn’t want it to burn you now would we?” The boy said with a smile, “Would you like to hold it?”

The girl’s eyes widened with excitement as she held out her hands, but a shout from Adrianne stopped her in fear.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Adrianne yelled loudly.

The boy looked up with interest as the illusions surroudning him disappeared, “Just playing with some kids, milady.”

Adrianne clacked loudly toward the boy who registered amusement across his face, “Magic was outlawed two seasons ago.”

“Was it now?” the boy said with false surprise as he stood to meet her gaze, “I’d never heard of such a law! I apologize for my rudeness.”

“Don’t even try to feign ignorance, child.” Adrianne said angrily, “You know the law just as well as any.”

“You caught me.” He said with a smirk, holding up his hands, “Take me to your leader.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Of course not! I would never dream of stooping to the level of someone like you.”

“Excuse me?” Adrianne gasped.

“How about you leave before anyone gets hurt.” The boy said with the same smirk molded to his face. His eyes burned a dark violet as red fire lit in his palm.

Adrianne didn’t know what to say. She had never been so disrespected by a child. She was being threatened. She glared at the Mage, “You’ve made a powerful enemy today, child. Watch your back.”

Adrianne turned her back on him and started walking proudly away. She had never felt so enraged. The arrogance of Mages is what made the use of magic punishable by death.

“I don’t think I’ll need to,” the mage said from behind her, “you won’t remember any of this.”

There was a flash of light and a burning sensation tracing across her temples. Adrianne shut her eyes in pain, but as instantly as it had come the light disappeared. She looked up back to the street in front of her. What had just happened? What was she supposed to be doing? She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there. Was she in the Pier? She slapped her head remembering her mission to the blacksmith.

Starting off at a brisk pace, she tried to push away the pain sidling onto her temples. She felt like she was supposed to be upset about something, but couldn’t remember what it could be. Frustrated, she glared ahead ignoring the people bustling around.

She really hated the Pier...


art by Lap Pun Cheung

A New Idea

Ever since my earliest memories, I've had an overactive imagination. One of the most prominent memories I have from my earliest days of childhood are of my elementary school playground. Every day my friends and I would meet up during our recess breaks and play make-believe games. Depending on each day we would be great warriors battling through a fantastical world or Jedi saving the galaxy from evil. We loved being wizards, and knights, and a whole assortment of characters. No matter what game it was, the common factor would always be that we were saving the world.

When I was about 11 years old I began reading the book Eragon. I had always loved reading, and I think a small part of me had always wondered what it would be like to be a writer. My imagination loved to run rampant in my real life. I remember every time I would run down the stairs I would jump hard onto the floor at the bottom making a great explosion noise as if I had some power to shatter the earth below me. My brother, Marcus, witnessed this event once and asked what in the world I was doing. I didn't really have a good answer and was totally embarrassed by it. It never stopped me though. I imagined vast walls of water crashing over the mountains. I imagined fighting off monsters, wizards, and evil lords alike.

I suppose I'm digressing from my real point here. I read Eragon and loved everything about it. My dad told me that it was written by some 19 year old guy who had started writing it when he was 16. Being a writer suddenly didn't seem like some far away dream. The idea became a true possibility. Since then I have wanted to be a writer, but it was always on the back burner. I didn't actually believe I could become a writer.

Long story short here (I tend to like to ramble on about details), it wasn't until recently that I've grown serious about writing. I want to write more often and more seriously. This blog will hopefully be a way of doing so. I got the idea from a friend at the library. I'm going to write little quips, snippets, and short stories for myself and anyone who wishes to read them. The only way to be a writer is to write. That's what makes sense to me anyway.

As Ernest Hemingway once said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Hope you all can enjoy! :)