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 Posted: Mon Dec 29, 2014 7:13 pm
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  amorpheous • unedited
Without any chance of going outside, the family continues to huddle around the fire, staying warm together. The children urge Nanna to tell
another story or tell them more about the village with the fire. Nanna laughs and draws her grandchildren closer to her. “Very well,” she says.
Some version of the story tells of a woman, the missing wife, the mother of his child, a seductress of the village, who has captured the man’s heart.
No matter her role in the story, she was always beautiful, something bright, or burning, like summer. The thought of flowers or sun in the winter darkness
brings out sighs of longing. Each member of the family assigns their own version of summer and charm to the beautiful woman in the story.
Through a series of a daily prompts, you will get the chance to follow suit and give this doe a personality and story of her own.
Everyday, a new prompt will be released. You don't have to answer that day's prompt within a 24 hour period, but you will need to have
all prompts answered by the 8th day (which is a free day to wrap up your entry).
You will have a main entry post, then each part of your entry will get its own post that you must link back to your entry post.
Creativity in answering the prompts is encouraged, not just in content but in form.
Please keep in mind that I am a lover of details, of the universe of Wardwood and the historical Regency.
To begin, please respond to prompt 1:
PROMPT 1: SO IT BEGINS
Deep in the foggy depths of the Wardwood, a little wisp floats idly, just a spark of intention that had recently spontaneously sprung into being.
There is potential there, a touch of the real given by something beyond. When it wakes and becomes more, it will know its name...
Summarize your Chosen's choosing, the before, during, and after of their journey to reach the totem that pulls them from the comfort of their
normal lives. Please also briefly touch upon why, you imagine, this guardian chose the person that they did.
[b]Username:[/b] [your username here]
[b]Guardian Name:[/b] [name here]
[b]Chosen Name:[/b] [name here, please do not use an existing character, approved or otherwise]
[b]So it goes...[/b]
[your response to prompt 1 here]
[b]PROMPT 2:[/b] [link to prompt 2 post]
[b]PROMPT 3:[/b] [link to prompt 3 post]
[b]PROMPT 4:[/b] [link to prompt 4 post]
[b]PROMPT 5:[/b] [link to prompt 5 post]
[b]PROMPT 6:[/b] [link to prompt 6 post]
[b]PROMPT 7:[/b] [link to prompt 7 post]
PROMPT 2: FIRST STEPS
One day, in between one breath and the next, a little fawn came into being. She cast a shadow where there once was none and took her first
shaky step. She knows, like all creatures here know, her name. It echoes in her mind, telling her that she is something. In the distance she hears
a laugh and, intrigued, follows.
When the fawn manifests, is your Chosen surprised? What is your Chosen’s reaction and the reaction of others? How are those early days
and what do they, according to your Chosen, indicate about the future?
Please make a new post with the following filled out and then link that post back to your first post.[b]PROMPT 2: The future stretches before us...[/b]
[your response to prompt 2 here]
PROMPT 3: A MIND OF HER OWN
She has grown long limbed and beautiful, still a child in many ways, but on the cusp of adulthood. Though she has traveled far from the place
of her becoming and she travels farther each day, the wood she lives in has no end. She asks the older deer who she comes across and they
too have never found the edge of these forests. She wonders if, perhaps, she will be the first to discover it if it even exists.
In the beginning the little fawn is a sweet companion, simple in its thoughts, emotions, and actions. But she grows and she comes to have a mind
of her own. What is it like the first time she disagrees with her Chosen and makes it clearly known? What is the resolution to their conflict?
Make a new post with the following form filled out and link it back to your original post.[b]PROMPT 3: Disagreements are inevitable, but we must move on...[/b]
[your response to prompt 3 here]
PROMPT 4: SHE HAS GROWN
In time, perhaps, she grows into her limbs. She still travels far and wide, but she is older now. She has created a life for herself in this wood.
That potential had become something…
The totem has grown into a doe, something that has been a long time coming. Your Chosen has also decided to dress her up. Tell the story,
however you like, of how your Chosen acquired her headdress and leg bow for her
Make a new post with the following form filled out and link it back to your original post.[b]PROMPT 4: Let us play dress up...[/b]
[your response to prompt 4 here]
PROMPT 5: FRIENDS, PERHAPS
In the woods, she meets many of her own kind and speaks with all the creatures of the wood. They are all alive, even the trees are filled with
some strange magic. The wood around her hums with life and she is one out of many who make up this wood.
Relate the first time that your Chosen and his guardian meet another guardian and/or Chosen. This can take place at any point in your character’s
timeline.
Please make a new post with the following filled out and then link that post back to your first post.[b]PROMPT 5: You are not the only one...[/b]
[your response to prompt 5 here]
PROMPT 6: WANDER AWAY
In the woods she is beholden to no one. Her life is her own and she does as she wants. By that same token, none are beholden to her. Some
days she expects to see someone and they are gone.
Though it seems that the deer is your Chosen’s, she is truly a creature of her own and, perhaps considering that it is the totem that chooses
the Chosen and not the other away around except in the case of theft, it would be more apt to say that your Chosen is hers. Relate a time that your
Chosen thought that the guardian disappeared or left them.
Make a new post with the following form filled out and link it back to your original post.[b]PROMPT 6: Where has she gone...[b]
[your response to prompt 6 here]
PROMPT 7: THE WAR
In the Wardwood, many creatures roam freely and all of them seek to survive. From the north, especially in times of great desperation and
cold, the wolves come down from the north in packs to find a meal. Even those who do not meet the wolves hear of them through whispers
and stories.
Though at one point of time, one might have had the luxury of believing that the Wolves were not coming again, the evidence is too strong
to ignore. There will be war once again; that much is inevitable. How does your Chosen feel about the prospect of war against the Gwyn and his
Wolves? Does your Chosen prepare for battle? If so, how? If not, why not?
Make a new post with the following form filled out and link it back to your original post.[b]PROMPT 7: Riding into battle...b]
[your response to prompt 7 here] |
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Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2015 10:30 am
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Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2015 10:45 am
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 10:15 pm
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Username: kamileunaire
Guardian Name: Primrose
Chosen Name: Cyrus Cobb
So it goes...
"There. That would be a good place to rest."
Cyrus Cobb was 14 years old when he chanced to venture into the Wardwood. It was a hot summer's day that had been spent playing with his friends. Once their chores had been done and their parents had shooed them away, in order to keep them out from under foot, the small band of kids had quickly taken off. They had chased and laughed and cajoled about, kicking an old ball around a field outside of their small home village, playing tag and taking the rare opportunity to enjoy themselves. It hadn't been until the exhaustion sank in that the shade offered by the trees began to look awfully inviting. It had been an awfully long time since Cyrus had even thought of the wood, but on that particular day, with the sun blazing over head, it seemed like the most natural place in the world to spend just a bit of time.
"There's nothing wrong with the woods. We go in all the time in the winter, for kindling." Joseph had said in an attempt to persuade his younger brother Felix, whose head was always full of scary stories, of wolves and faeries and other unknown things. His two younger brothers almost always tagged along on their adventures.
"He's right, you know. The stories are just stories.." Cyrus chimed in, and rustled the youngster's hair. Being one of the eldest, it was a meaningful thing, apparently, to contribute his own input on such a matter. But another young voice soon piped up.
"You used to be scared of the woods too, Cyrus." Jonas teased, sneered at him playfully before darting off a ways, mindful of being retaliated against. Felix giggled, but the jab was forgotten as quickly as it was made, and Cyrus ignored him after exchanging an exasperated glance with Joseph, too eager to escape the heat of the field they were dallying about in.
In no time at all, the boys had found a little stream in which to play. Further in, it widened out, and after making sure that they were quite alone, they had stripped down and dove in, happy to completely and utterly beat the heat with a swim. After a bit of rough housing, their activity had tapered off, and the younger boys stretched out on the bank to nap. Cyrus and Joseph continued to toss the ball back and forth, which had been entertaining enough until an errant throw had landed it in the brush on the opposite bank. Immediately, Joseph's little brother flew into a tizzy over it.
"My ball! You can't just leave it there, Joseph, you have to go get it!!" Jonas whined, since it belonged to him.
Cyrus rolled his eyes. "You don't have to cry about it. I'll fetch it." He murmured, snorting as Joseph splashed his little brother roughly. He waded off to the other side as his friends watched, not knowing why exactly he had volunteered to retrieve the lost toy. On the few beautiful days on which they were allowed downtime, he rather wished that younger siblings could be left at home. Cyrus knew that pain himself, as he thought back on his sister, who was rarely and blessedly allowed to go out playing with them, something their mother would never allow. It was an absolute godsend, but being older brothers, they would never escape the crying and whining. They'd nearly gone back home when Felix had thrown a tantrum earlier, and now things felt as if they might turn sour again.
"Was it over this way? I can't see where it went!" Cyrus cupped a hand to his mouth as he called back, searching sluggishly through the brush. Already he could feel his mood starting to dip; perhaps coming into the wood had been a bad idea after all. He grunted with frustration as he pressed in further, soon realizing the extent of his trouble. The ground sloped down again once the shoreline ended, which meant the ball had likely rolled down further into the wood. "I'll be back soon, there's a slope down this way!!" he yelled, and was unable to hear the muffled response of his friend as he headed down. It would be the last thing they would hear from him for nearly three days, and little Felix insisted that they were his last words.
~~~~~~
A small group had been sent out to search for the lost boy, and had given up after the first night, after finding hide nor hair of him. When Cyrus stumbled into Oldcastle on the third night, his mother was beside herself.
"Scared us all half to death, wandering into the woods like that! What kept you, boy??" The old baker growled, enraged and relieved all at once, with half a mind to beat her wayward son, who had never before dared to do as foolish a thing as get lost in the wood. Cyrus had more sense in his head than that, or so she thought.
Smudged with dirt, and half starved, a glassy eyed Cyrus had opened his palm to reveal his newest secret, which would not be a well-kept one for very long. A tiny, dusty grey deer figurine, splotched with white.
Tabitha Cobb nearly fainted as she recalled the old tales.
PROMPT 2: [x]
PROMPT 3: [x]
PROMPT 4: [x]
PROMPT 5: [x]
PROMPT 6: [x]
PROMPT 7: [x]
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 11:57 pm
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PROMPT 2: The future stretches before us...
As residents of the Oldcastle, the Cobbs had always generally followed the Old Ways, as best they could. The Wardwood was a place to be respected, but not always feared, necessarily. If one remembered its true inhabitants, and payed proper tribute, there was rarely anything to worry about. The old stories were just that, old, and they would stay in the past...at least, that's what most people tended to believe. After Cyrus' disappearing act, Tabitha had been quick to pass it off as an isolated incident to her friends and neighbors, just a boy being a silly boy, having a reckless little adventure in the wood. Oh, how furious she had been at first...until he had shared with her his most miraculous of discoveries.
She had thought it a prank at first. But, for as empty-headed as he could sometimes seem, she knew when her son was telling the truth, and that truth had filled her with a mixture of amazement and horror. A great, glowing tree, several days spent wandering through the forest...were the old stories coming true? Even she could remember her days as a young girl, cowering beneath her blanket as her grandfather rattled off tales about the old war, about the shimmering wings of the faerie folk and wolves with teeth like sharpened knives. Best of all, though, were the heroes of those stories. Brave men and women who were always accompanied by their most unexpected companions, the deer-like guardians, a gift from the fae themselves. Was that what her son was destined for?
Cyrus knew the tales well. It had taken nearly two weeks to fully recover from his ordeal, and his prying mother and annoying younger sister had not made it any easier for him. There was always work to be done, chores to be carried out, and just because he had gotten lost, become chosen didn't mean he could put off his apprenticeship. Baking was difficult, precise work, and his mother could not complete the work alone.
~~~
"What have I told you about getting into my things, Miriam? You aren't to touch this!" Cyrus snapped, as he snatched the totem away from his younger sibling. The resulting whimper was satisfying, and he glared down at her while she glared back.
"Momma says it's going to turn into a deer. How will that happen? Is it going to be just like the stories? I want to see!" The five year old reached up, and Cyrus backed away quickly, setting the tiny figure on the top of a shelf.
"Of course it isn't, it's just a stupid story. That still doesn't mean you can touch it. You'll only break it." He snapped, and was quick to ignore her pouting as he eyed the tiny object. Not a day had passed that he didn't think back on his trip through the Wardwood. Had it been a dream? Some sort of fantastical dream? A nobody like himself could never obtain a guardian...and with his little sister pestering him about it day and night, he almost wished that it hadn't happened at all.
"Don't you say that about Momma! I'll tell on you!" She sniffled, trying to get a dig at him for taking away her plaything.
Cyrus ignored her as he pulled on his boots, already too late to argue with the young brat.
~~~~~~~~
As the weeks drifted by, the buzz of Cyrus' journey and choosing faded amongst the minds of the Cobb household. Cyrus was convinced that it was only a simple bauble, a relic of ages past, and that nothing would come of it. Miriam had been succinctly disappointed over the fact that no mythical animal had come into their lives, but his mother had been oddly calm about the whole thing. Life carried on, and he knew as he grew up that it would be foolish to cling to silly hopes of old fairy tales...and it was when his spirits were at their lowest that she decided to grace his life with her presence.
It had been a Sunday morning, the only morning of the week that he was allowed a bit of rest, which was the reason he'd been furious, when Miriam had rushed in squealing.
"Cyrus, Cyrus, come see!! Momma!!!" She rushed back off to get their mother, and Cyrus couldn't imagine what she was so excited about. With a growl he crawled out of bed, pulling on his trousers and boots.
The sight that met the three when they entered the small kitchen of their home would be burned into Cyrus' memory for the rest of his life. A tiny fawn stood directly before their hearth, tail flicking, eyes bright as tiny coals. She let out a soft bleat, and Tabitha clutched her chest, letting out a thrilled exhale.
"I knew it all along. I knew she'd come, sooner or later. It's just like my grandfather's old tales." Her voice was breathless, a mere whisper.
As Cyrus met the tiny animal's gaze, he felt the warm glow of affection beginning to burn in his chest, and let out his own breath of disbelief. Falling to his knees, he reached out to the tiny beast, before his brow furrowed.
"She? How do you know??" He watched the fawn approach, unblinking as she stretched out her neck to sniff delicately at his fingers, before pressing her head into his palm, as if she recognized him instantly.
"Well, she hasn't any antlers..."
"It's too soon to tell, really!" Cyrus' voice raised in agitation, and the tiny creature huddled to his side. He gathered her up, hands shaking, and stroked down her back. Miriam snuggled up close to do the same, and he didn't have the heart or the energy to swat her hand away.
"A mother knows these things...what a sweet little creature she is, too." Tabitha crooned, bending to get a closer look, and ignoring her son's scowl. She still couldn't quite believe what was happening, and almost fancied herself to be dreaming. It was like meeting a unicorn in the woods, or a mermaid out at sea.
Darker thoughts had begun to cloud over Cyrus' mind. Like his mother before him, he too had been raised on those stories...why hadn't he thought of this before? The existence of the guardians had, after all, hinged on the war...they had existed to fight wolves. With that single thought hanging in the forefront of his mind, and the arrival of the tiny fawn in his arms, he knew that their lives would never quite be the same.
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2015 4:00 am
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PROMPT 3: Disagreements are inevitable, but we must move on...
It had been almost a year since the little fawn had come into their lives. Tabitha had taken the liberty of naming the tiny creature Primrose, for her politeness, and her delicate ways. Cyrus had scorned the name, convinced that the she was, in fact, a he... but the name stuck. With their new and eccentric little pet (they explained her presence as such, anyway), the passage of time had gained a strange sort of speed, as summer melted into fall, and the winter winds came blowing in. Prim was the light of the household, a bouncy, playful little creature whose antics grabbed the attention of anyone who cared to watch.
How she had loved to dance about before the hearth in the early days, or to play games of chase with the children. Tabitha could not even muster up the cold-heartedness to keep the fawn outdoors, and she was allowed to remain inside, where she always took up her spot by the hearth in the kitchen, and sometimes managed to creep up to join Cyrus in his bed. She followed him around like a newly hatched chick, and always seemed devastated when it was time for him to go to work with Tabitha. Miriam's tutor did not seem overly pleased with the new distraction, but as time wore on, the family fell into a new rhythm.
The delicate little fawn did not remain little for so long. In less than a year's time she had become a long, slender creature, all legs, with sleek, dusky grey fur and eyes that shone as intensely as the day she had come into being. To Cyrus' utter dismay, her antlers never had grown in...but that certainly hadn't stopped them from going on countless adventures together. He was still fast friends with Joseph, of course, and when time allowed, they still managed to spend quite a bit of their downtime together, whether it was bumming around town or going out to explore the woods. Prim had proven herself to be quite the stalwart companion, content to go galavanting through the woods, to get her hooves and coat dirty with rain, mud, and leaves. Her tenderness endeared Cyrus, and her adventurous nature delighted him. Even from the beginning, he had felt and known his connection to her, and their year spent with one another had only strengthened the bond...
Yet, Cyrus was not the only one with which she had grown closer to. Primrose had even more quickly and easily endeared herself to the ladies of the household. Even Tabitha, who had never really cared to keep any animals of her own, had favored her from day one. Miriam, however, had fallen head over heels for Prim. In the young girl's eyes, she was as precious and mythical as any beautiful beast from a story, and she practically was one. She spent as much time as she could with Prim, and it was on one blustery winter day that Cyrus came home to something he honestly had not wanted to see. Why was it that Miriam always tried to steal away the few things that were most precious to him?
"What on earth are you doing to poor Prim, Miriam? This looks ridiculous." Cyrus observed scornfully, looking at the old clothes and ribbons that his younger sister had tied onto his friend. Despite the fact that the arrival of his guardian had brought them closer, she could still be a horribly obnoxious little brat. He ignored Primrose's distressed shifting and motioned to the deer again, advancing upon them both. "You see? She hates it."
"That's not true! She loves to play dress-up, isn't that right, Prim?" Miriam averted her eyes, her face turning red. She had not expected her older brother to be home early, and playing with Prim had always been the part of the day she looked forward to most. The deer always stood so still when she tied ribbons on her ears, or wrapped their mother's old shawls around her neck, and Miriam could tell that she loved to have her soft coat brushed. Of course her mean old brother wouldn't understand.
"Just leave her be, Miriam, and take this junk off of her, right now! You're always pestering her like this, and it has to stop." Cyrus snapped, and stomped over to begin to rid his guardian of her repugnant garb. He wasn't expecting the outburst that came from his little sister.
"It's not hurting her!!! She likes it! Stoppit Cyrus, you're scaring her!!" Miriam rushed over to pound her little fists against the object of her frustration, only to be shoved back by him, directly onto her rear end. There was a pause, before she began to wail, and the tears flowed from her eyes.
"It's your own fault, for being such a brat. Especially to poor Prim...come here, now, and I'll help you..."
Cyrus' sentence was swiftly cut off. As he reached out to undo one of the ribbons, an unexpected thing happened. Laying back her velvet ears, Prim grunted loudly and stomped a hoof, lurching forward in an attempt to bite Cyrus' hand, which he yanked away just in time. He felt a surge of negative energy, her anger, and stumbled backwards, afraid she would continue her attack. Their eyes met, his smoky brown with her intelligent, blazing yellow, and as she huffed a warning, he took another step back. For a split second he was petrified, as it was the first instance in which her wrath (which she had displayed a choice number of times towards other smaller animals who had meant her harm) had been directed at Cyrus himself. After a moment, the tension eased, and she turned from him.
He watched as she dropped her aggressive display, shifting instead to comfort his younger sister, who was still hiccuping and sobbing quietly. Sucking in a deep breath, he was about to speak before a voice from behind did so instead.
"Looks like that beast has more sense and caring in her head than you do, boy."
He winced, and looked back to see the chagrined expression of his mother, who was lurking in the doorway. She didn't even give him the chance to reply, before taking her leave again. Sighing heavily, he turned back to his sister, who had her arms draped around Prim and was pressing her tear soaked face into the soft fur of her neck.
"Miriam...I'm sorry. You were right, I suppose..." Cyrus tried to apologize, watching them for a moment before turning to retreat. Were they really so close? It hurt that he had never quite noticed. His heart ached over Prim's burst of anger, and her simmering agitation. Did she really enjoy it all that much?
"It's alright, Cyrus... But you should stop being so mean. She likes it, gettin' all prettied up. Don't make her stop, just because you want her to be something else." Miriam answered amongst sniffles and hiccups, her voice still muffled against Prim's neck. She shifted to look up at her brother, whose expression had softened to sadness.
"I can see that. I'm sorry, Miriam...you can make her pretty whenever you feel like. I won't be mad anymore. I promise." Cyrus' apology was directed toward his sister, but the entire time he'd spoken he had not been able to tear his gaze from Prim's judgmental stare. It was apparent to him that his guardian had grown plenty since her awakening, a lot more than he had, and the realization stung. With an aching heart and the determination to do better by both of them, he slowly backed out of the room, sensing Prim's simmering agitation. If there was any one thing he'd do, it would be to make sure that he never aroused his guardian's anger ever again, for as long as he lived.
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2015 11:31 pm
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PROMPT 4: Let us play dress up...
Winter drifted by, and finally allowed the warmth of spring to shine through again in May, casting the Wardwood and the surrounding land in a much less sinister light. The cold times would have been unbearably harsh, Cyrus believed, were it not for Primrose. The young doe had truly blossomed during those harsh months, surprising everyone, including her chosen. Gone were any traces of the gangly clumsiness of her youth; she had grown into her long limbs, graceful and deliberate now in almost every movement she made. She had also experienced one last growth spurt, and as much as Cyrus and Tabitha hated to do so, she had been relocated to the small garden that grew in the back of their modest home. As gentle as she could be, Prim was simply too massive now to lay before the hearth, or to prance through their home. To Cyrus' relief, she seemed to understand, and did not fuss over it too much, trusting that her Chosen would always remain near. He had built a small shelter against the wall of the house, to keep the rain and cold at bay, and she was content with her new surroundings, and quickly took to wandering until the family returned home each evening.
With the arrival of spring came the festivities associated with it, and no one was more excited than Miriam. Her birthday fell in late May, but because of the festival that took place in the village earlier in the month, she almost always persuaded their mother to celebrate it just a bit sooner. As the time of the celebration drew near, the whole community was abuzz with excitement over the return of warmer weather, and new life. It would soon be time to sow new crops, and make plans and goals for the upcoming months. Best of all, however, was the festival that culminated on the first day of May.
"Come on, Prim, hold still." Cyrus whispered, as he prepared his guardian in the privacy of her shelter behind the shop, not wanting anyone to see her before it was time.He drew a hand down her neck in order to calm her, but he knew well that they were both infused with the excitement of the occasion. He had brushed her down until her coat glistened, and now all that needed to be done was to add the finishing touches. Though he would be helping his mother later with selling pastries at the square, they more or less had the day and evening off, and he was looking forward to having some well-deserved fun and rest.
Cyrus stepped back once he had finished, to admire his work. With a gentle smile on his face, he had finally come to realize, first hand, why Miriam so enjoyed spending quiet time with Prim the way they did. He reached up to make a few more minor adjustments, before his mother's voice made him jump, and he realized that it was time to go. Weren't they in for a surprise...
"Have Miriam cover up her eyes! I've got a surprise for you!" Cyrus called, grinning as he motioned for Primrose to follow him out. She obliged easily, and as the two emerged from around the corner Tabitha's eyes lit up at the sight, and she cupped her hands to her mouth as she tried not to laugh. She had been in on the surprise as well, but she hadn't seen Prim before then.
"Is it okay now??" Miriam's voice lifted with excitement. She was all dolled up herself, with a pretty white dress Tabitha had made just for the festival, and flowers braided into her hair.
"Alright, you can look now." Cyrus patted Prim's shoulder, and she turned to show herself off. The look that came across Miriam's young face as she pulled her hands away was one that Cyrus would always remember.
"Oh Prim, you're so beautiful!!!" Miriam squealed with delight as she rushed over, and the guardian craned her neck down to nuzzle against the child. Beautiful was really something of an understatement. Cyrus had saved up his allowance to purchase the flower crown and the veil, and Mrs. Lennox down the road had helped fit Prim for it. Tabitha had found the ribbon and Cyrus had taken her suggestion to incorporate it somehow. Prim shone with a humble sort of pride, and Cyrus was all smiles, able to sense how happy she was.
"Her roses are so pretty...and her ribbon, it's just like the may pole. You dressed her up, Cyrus, just for my birthday!" Miriam squeaked as her older brother lifted her up onto the doe's back, and clung fervently to her neck. Cyrus could feel his ears heating up, and could only laugh in response.
"Be careful, Miriam. Cyrus, don't you dare let that child fall. We have to get going, or we're going to be late!" Tabitha half scolded, though it was easy to tell that she was touched by what had transpired. As the family set out for the town square, Cyrus smiled, knowing that it was going to be an unforgettable day.
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 12:17 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 1:46 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 3:12 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 3:57 pm
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PROMPT 5: You are not the only one...
Though Cyrus often wished it was so, he knew that it would be silly to believe that he was the only person who had been chosen. As the world slowly began to change, and vicious and frightening rumors began to grip the country, he'd wondered if anyone else in or near their small community had been chosen as well. He had never chanced to see them, but Old Castle was a big place, with many small villages and properties branching out from it. It was not as if he could go out looking, though he sourly wished he could at times, during his hot days spent at the bakery.
Whispers and snippets of stories about violent attacks had been seeping in from the north for months, but Tabitha refused to acknowledge them, and had accused Cyrus of hanging around the taverns far too often. The stories filled Cyrus with dread, a lead weight in his stomach that had become harder and harder to ignore. He wanted to believe that they were stories, but stories of other people being Chosen helped to bolster his confidence. He was not the only one, and like the old stories, there would be strength in numbers...in the herd. But where were they? When would he meet them? Cyrus wasn't left wondering for very long.
It was an overcast day in march when the letter arrived, and his mother was in a flustered tizzy, to receive a message from the queen herself. It was as if someone had heard Cyrus' worries and hopes, and had sent the letter along. Even though the letter confirmed his fears, it also offered hope. Suddenly, there was much to prepare for, and his mother was fussing, and his sister was asking an endless amount of questions as she looked at the letter herself, and sounded out the words.
"The wolves are real!? Really, real?" Miriam looked shocked as she peered up at Cyrus and their mother. "Do you think they're big? Do you think I will get to see one?" The last question set Tabitha into scoffing, and she plucked the letter from the youngster's hands before folding it up and turning to set it on the table. It was enough to make Cyrus laugh, despite the direness of it all.
"Child, we'll be lucky never to lay eyes on those monsters, and pray you never do! Cyrus, there's much to do. If you're to go to this masquerade, we'll have to find a good costume for you." Tabitha sighed, the gears of her mind already working away as she made a mental list of what needed to be done. It was all she could do to keep from fretting, or from crying. What was her boy getting himself into? She wrung her hands, brows furrowed.
"Something simple will do, mother. I'll wear my good clothes, and a mask, and that will do." Cyrus offered her a weak smile, and wrapped his arms around her. He knew that they were both frightened, and that he would have to be strong. But why get upset over a party? The best part was that he would finally be able to meet others like himself...and they'd all be in it together.
~~~
Being a simple baker meant that Cyrus hadn't been completely prepared for what he saw and experienced at the masquerade. The festivals that were held in their community were the only thing that came close to touching the opulence of the queen's improvised courtyard, and they still hardly compared. He had arrived dressed in his best suit and a simple feathered mask that his mother had found for him. It did not resemble any animal, but it was colorful and festive, and humble enough that he did not feel like a fool. He had tried hard to convince Tabitha to accompany him, but she had insisted that there was too much work to be done at the bakery. He knew, with a good amount of guilt, that her reasons were more complicated than she'd let on, but not wishing to press it, he had chosen Joseph to come along instead.
While the food and the surroundings had been nothing short of breath taking, what happened when they arrived would always be one of Cyrus' fondest memories. They hadn't even entered the courtyard before Prim, overwhelmed with unmuted joy, had darted away from his side to approach the deer of another chosen, a large, striking buck with dark brown fur and black points. After a clumsy introduction they had all entered the courtyard to be met with sights that made Cyrus' heart pound. So many people...so many guardians. Deer of every color darted about, and countless hoards of masqueraded citizens flitted about, partaking in the food and wine, and the revelry of it all.
Cyrus would never forget the emotions he'd felt as he'd watched Primrose interact with others of her kind. It was almost as if she had turned into a youngster again, prancing and darting about with the bucks, and having quiet, sweet interactions with does of her own age. She still reserved the most tender side of her demeanor for the fawns, however, of which there were a few in attendance. Her enthusiasm and joy was infectious, as Cyrus and Joseph found a small group of chosen to socialize with. To Cyrus' relief, there were a good many chosen from around Old Castle, some of them just as simple and plain as he was. There was the young woman, Beatrice, whose buck Prim had approached initially, the daughter of a seamstress who lived in the heart of Old Castle. A young man named Edgar also had a buck, and he lived frightfully close to Cyrus' community, working for a noble family as one of their stable boys. They had all sat around, exchanging stories and gorging themselves on foods none of them had ever had the privilege of eating before.
As the day progressed, the youngsters were able to indulge in revelry they'd only dreamt of. Ignorant of how to pace himself, Joseph had become quite drunk, happy to flirt with any and every young woman who allowed him to approach. Cyrus, too, had fallen prey to the undiluted stuff, and had gone on a mad game of tag with Prim and some of the other guardians. It was only until the atmosphere of the courtyard began to change, that Prim's joy melted into something far less positive. The doe retreated to her fuzzy-minded chosen, and together they weathered the horror of Gwyn's glamour and introduction. Cyrus hiccuped as his young mind fought to absorb it all, and with the mention of a 'battlefield' it was all he could do to keep himself from panicking. He clung to Prim as he and the entire courtyard waited for the fear to fade back into warmth. The sound of the musket going off was oddly distant, and does little to phase anyone the way it should...
When it finally passed, and people began to murmur and shift about, as if it had all happened in a strange blur. Joseph was there to shake his shoulder, and the two friends pulled themselves to their feet to watch the guards give chase, and for the queen to come forth again. People had been killed, and Cyrus could feel the blood draining from his face as he watched the planting ceremony. It gave him goosebumps, and the effects of the glamour still lingered as a nauseous swirl in his stomach. As they watched the silver tree grow before their eyes, it cemented everything; every story, ever superstition. There was not a doubt in any of their young minds that it was all real, and as the queen mentioned the war, Cyrus felt his stomach sink again.
Cyrus allowed Prim to comfort him as they made the trip back home, with his drunken friend draped across the doe's back. Her gentle affection and hopeful attitude helped to chase away the dread, and he could tell that she was still affected by what had transpired earlier. Could it be that she had been lonely before, always resigned to the garden, to watch the butterflies float past and the tomatoes grow? Putting the frightening events of Gwyn's appearance from his mind, he resolved to find Beatrice and the other kids he had met that night. If there was going to be a war, he knew, they would all have to do their best to stay close, and to cooperate.
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 4:09 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 4:59 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 5:03 pm
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PROMPT 6: Where has she gone...
The trouble started when he came home to the sound of Miriam sobbing quietly as she stood at the entrance of the garden. It was a sound that would have repulsed Cyrus in the past, but as it reached his ears he hurried his feet and rounded the house quickly, afraid something had happened to her. "Miriam, what's the matter? Are you hurt??" Cyrus knelt at her side and wrapped his arms around his sister as she turned to cling to him, sniffling loudly.
"Prim's gone again, Cyrus. Why does she have to leave? Can't you make her come back??" Miriam's blue eyes were full of tears. Ever since Cyrus had attended the masquerade, the doe had taken to wandering. Neighbors affectionately informed Cyrus that they had caught her lingering by their roses, or basking out in the fields near the woods. Almost always, though, she would be back by the time most of the family had returned from their work days, or in Miriam's case, her lessons. More and more, however, the doe had taken to staying away longer, sometimes over night. It was hard for Cyrus to process himself, but he tried not to let it trouble him.
"She'll be alright, Miriam. She likes to go and stretch her legs. She's big, and she can't sit around in this garden every hour of the day." Cyrus tried to explain, for himself as much as his sister. The doe would return eventually, wouldn't she? Did guardians ever leave their chosen? It was a question that made him sick to think about.
"But I miss her so much. It's been a whole day now. What if something bad happened to her?" The last question was said in a frightful whisper, and Miriam sobbed again, hating to think of Prim being attacked by the monsters in the wood.
"I bet she misses you too, Miriam. Just watch, she'll be back soon. I'm sure she's just been playing with her friends in the woods. You wouldn't want anyone to tell you to stop playing with your friends, would you?" Cyrus forced a smile, and a playful reason that he hoped would staunch his sister's tears.
"I guess not. I hope she comes back soon..."
"So do I. C'mon, then, it's almost time for supper!" Cyrus scooped her up and grinned at her weak laughter, sparing a single glance out in the direction of the Wardwood. He trusted his guardian enough to return, but Miriam had pointed out another thing he hadn't thought of. Was there anything out there that could hurt her?
~~~
True to his word, Prim had returned that night, to be embraced and kissed and coddled by his sister. They'd taken a lantern into the garden to sit with her and watch the stars, and Miriam had fallen asleep curled up at her side. Cyrus wanted to pretend that her wandering did not cause him to worry at times, but it would have been a lie to say so. The thing was, he never gleaned anything negative when she was away...much the opposite, and it was something that made him very curious.
A couple weeks drifted by, and Prim's forays out of town grew longer. Sometimes she would stay away for three or four nights at a time, and it was one of those occasions, on the fifth night of her absence, that Cyrus finally broke. A great summer storm had been building itself up over the horizon throughout the day, and the thunder sounded just after the light left the sky. Miriam was upset, and though his mother had begged him not to, he had stumbled out to seek Prim, with only lantern light to guide him.
His search had been frantic, and he made a beeline for the Wardwood, despite his own crippling fears, of wolves, and of the monstrous fae. He could still remember the one that had crashed the queen's gathering, and to recall its large eyes and splindy features made him shiver. Would one of them take the opportunity to harm a human who ventured too far into the woods? He had to force such thoughts from his mind as he stumbled through the darkness. He broke his voice calling her name, and eventually succumbed to exhaustion, taking refuge in the hollow of a massive tree in order to wait out the storm.
Cyrus was altogether surprised to wake up flanked by two warm, furry bodies when he woke the next morning. He recognized the color of one of them immediately, and fell into tears, embracing his guardian, his Prim. She nuzzled into him gently, and tried to imbue him with the calm warmth that her mind always offered; it was alright, there was nothing wrong. When the buck on Cyrus' other side lifted his head to blink sleepily, Cyrus startled once again, with recognition. It was none other than the beck that had belonged to Beatrice, from the queen's party. He huffed a laugh, and once again turned to cling to Prim.
"Prim, you little bugger. Scaring me half to death, just to go running about." He teased, and sniffled, pressing his forehead to hers as he hugged her head to his chest. In his heart, he knew that if anything happened to her that he would know instantly, so close was their bond. He felt foolish for having allowed fear to get the better of him, and knew that he could not be so rash in the future. He needed to have more trust in her.
The two guardians exchanged a knowing and affectionate look betwixt themselves when the two parties were finally ready to part ways. Cyrus scolded the buck, knowing that Beatrice was likely worried herself, and he darted off through the underbrush, gone in a flash. Together he and Prim exited the Wardwood, blinking against the sunlight.
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 9:50 pm
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PROMPT 7: Riding into battle...
It had been Joseph that had pointed out their biggest problem to date. What were they going to do when the war came, when they had absolutely no experience using weapons, or fighting? Cyrus realized then that he barely even had any knowledge beyond basic riding skills. Like most boys, he had the basics down, but due to the fact that everything they needed could be found within walking distance, horse riding was something he didn't do very often. Of course, riding a guardian was a different matter, but it was still enough to make his mother worry. Every weekend he and Joseph had been riding out to meet the others they had met at the gathering, to practice. Edgar had graciously offered everyone help with their riding skills, since he was the one who had the most experience.
Their fortune lay in the strong bonds they shared with their guardians. Even though Prim had never worn a saddle in her entire life, she had not bucked or protested when Cyrus had cinched the thing onto her. Unlike horses, the deer picked up on most commands immediately, and Cyrus realized with awe that Prim could tell exactly what he wanted her to do. In a week's span, Cyrus found that travel on the back of his guardian felt more swift and natural than anything...it felt at times that they were truly in synch, and moving as one. The lessons helped to bolster Cyrus' confidence, but there was still the matter of weapons, and fighting.
"The deer can fight too, can't they?" Beatrice asked, astride Cedar's back and trying to balance a long pole in her hand. Joseph had suggested attempting to train with lances, but Edgar had found an old sword to practice with. In a field outside town, they had set up hay bales, intent on somehow attempting to hone their skills. Once the Warden Headquarters were built, Cyrus hoped, they would be able to have formal training with the rest of the chosen of Sunderland. Until then, the urgent nature of their situation weighed too heavily upon their shoulders. They had to do something.
"Sure they can. But it's still useful to be able to fight." Joseph countered, as he gave Edgar's sword a test swing. Even though he was neither chosen nor hedgewitch, he wasn't about to let his best friend head into battle alone.
"It's harder to hit targets that are so low to the ground." Beatrice pouted, before lining up to take a run at one of their hay dummies. She managed to give it a good jab, but the whole display was still clumsy at best.
"M-maybe we should just work on riding maneuvers for now." Edgar offered after watching Beatrice. He was a nervous sort of fellow, gangly, and certainly not the type that would be seen riding into battle. The group seemed to acquiesce to his suggestion, if only because of their lack of experience. They needed better instruction than any one of them could provide.
And so, the bales of hay became obstacles, rather than attack dummies, over which the guardians made graceful leaps and bounds. Over the course of the following weeks, the three friends became more coordinated than ever. Cyrus learned how stand in the stirrups, and to steer Prim with ease. They worked on riding with one hand, and holding objects while riding, and how to keep their balance even at the most blinding of speeds. No one could deny that, even if there were bad times on the horizon, training with their guardians had been an enjoyable experience.
"When do you suppose the wolves will come, Cyrus?" Joseph asked one evening, after they had broke for a light rest. Cyrus held out an apple to Prim, who wandered over to munch on it quietly. He sighed, and stroked her neck.
"I have no idea. Hopefully after the headquarters are finished." Cyrus snorted softly, and moved to climb up onto Prim's saddle again. "I've really got to head home. Told my mum I'd be home before dark today. I'll see you guys later." Cyrus waved as he darted off across the field, hoping not to be late. He'd promised to be home before sundown so that Miriam could visit with Prim. With their training sessions, he'd been seeing less and less of his family, and he didn't want it to be a lasting trend.
~~~
"Did you practice fighting the wolves today, Cyrus?" Miriam laughed as she ran out into the garden to meet them, hugging around Prim's neck once her brother had dismounted. It was hard for her that they were both gone so often during their days off, but she knew he had important things to do. He was going to be just like the brave people in their mother's stories, and that made her feel proud.
"That's right. We're practicing how to ride first, though. Prim is so fast, Miriam. I should take you out with me, one of these days."
"That'd be nice...but, Cyrus?" Miriam looked up to her older brother with a trouble expression, wringing her small hands as she stood back from the deer. "Promise you'll be careful, okay? Make sure she doesn't get hurt? I know she's really strong...but just in case." She looked away quickly, in a bashful way. It wasn't something she thought she'd ever ask of Cyrus.
Cyrus was stunned for a moment, before he leaned forward to embrace his sibling. Giving her a squeeze, and a weak smile, he let her go in order to meet her eye to eye. "Try not to worry so much, Miriam. There's lots of chosen, and I won't be alone. We're all going to help one another. Those mean old wolves won't stand a chance." Cyrus did his best to soothe the child's worries. He couldn't know the extent of the truthfulness of his words, but all he could do was hope.
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