Fan Fiction ❯ Too Far From Paradise ❯ Storytime ( Chapter 1 )

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, incidents, or anything else, is obviously coincidental. The Authoress did not intend for this to be a historically accurate story and it is not based on any legends of any type. If you think this resembles any true story in any way you are wrong and probably mentally troubled. Seek help immediately and start reading some history books you stupid freak! Of course, because the authoress loves all stupid freaks you are welcome to leave your comments.

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced without written permission from the authoress in any way, shape, form, or anything I forgot. You may however quote the authoress briefly but only in articles and/or reviews.

To my dear friends who encourage my weirdness and bring more into my otherwise normal life.

Midnight Tower and all characters (c) Rin Flowers

 

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On the darkest night of the month, the old town fell silent. Rays of silver shone from the sky, but not from moonlight. A soft, quiet breeze blew by, sending the oaks and tall pines rustling and the chimes hanging above doors sang out in delight. Waves of the nearby ocean lapped softly against the against the smooth rocks below the cliff The tides were acting oddly these past few days and no one knew exactly why. If it hadn't been such a small town it would have been investigated.

 

An owl hooted, small animals scurry into the underbrush to escape, a small raccoon jumped off a trashcan and onto a wooden porch causing the ancient wood to creak and grown under the light weight. A small light winked by in a window near the second story of the house attached to the porch. Silently a small foot wide door opened up under the house and the animal scurried in.

 

The small light moved quickly, darting back and forth. The raccoon stood up and sniffed the air, then bowed down on his front paws before the light as it softly fluttered down. Another light flickered and moved around under the fur. It looked like a candelflame, flickering back and forth, the brighter light stopped moving, then dimmed to show the figure of a beautiful young woman about three inches tall in a flowing cream and lavender silk dress, a silver dagger slung across her hip. Her silver dragonfly wings glowed brightly and soft silver dust sifted down onto the floor.

 

“Thank you for your efforts Fiddle. I know it must have been tiring to travel here from Lefterling, but I greatly appreciate it.” The woman scratched the tip of his nose with her hand and the raccoon sneezed, the pixy dust tickling the inside of his nose. Quietly, so as not to disturb the flickering light covered by grayish black fur, the young pixy fluttered over and removed the sleeping bundle wrapped is scarlet silk from the small cherry wood basket attached to a black color around Fiddle's neck. She reached into her large woven grass pouch and produced two oak tree acorns and three pine tree seeds to pay the small light.

 

The orange light dimmed a bit to show a stubby little man with a bell and whistle around his neck. He reached his long furry fingers out to grasp the seeds and placed them in the cherry oak basket. He tipped his feather bristle hat and blew the whistle to tell Fiddle it was time to go. With three loud clanks of the bell fiddle was off and out the door.

 

The Pixy looked down into the bundle and smiled. “Well, hello my little Jinx.” She said the wriggling figure wrapped up too tightly in the silk for her liking. “Hold on young one, we'll have you up the steps and in a bed in no time. The pixy quickly too flight, leaving a trail of silver dust behind as she veered around the corner. The parlor was dark once again.

 

“She watched silently as they threw the bundles of brushwood over the carefully placed logs. There were dozens of men and women, even some children, who held torches and laughed as she observed them. The people of her town had gathered around this marvelous event in hopes of seeing their god deal out the punishment for the evil being before them. She had been correctly accused of witchcraft, but they had mistaken her spells and rituals. They didn't understand that their meaning was for worship and prayer, only that is was different. That it went against what their most precious bible taught them.” An elderly woman sat on a large canopy bed shrouded in black and purple silk as she read to the wide-eyed ebony haired toddler lying across her chest, looking at invisible pictures between the words of the large ebony tree book in front of them.

 

“The priest spoke of her crimes before he recited some quotes from the bible and finally, he condemned her with his final words: “May God have mercy on your wretched soul.” Then, the surrounding people began the joyous ritual of tossing the torches at the silent, still woman tied to the large wooden post. The children danced around the bonfire singing carefree, not knowing that the torches they had just tossed at the bundles of grass and twigs would set fire to a woman and destroy her life. To think, in several years any one of them could be accused of the same thing she was. Then, in the last few moments of their life, they would recall this day.”

 

The woman paused to take a breath, than continues slowly. “softly she requested, to no one in particular, that should any of these people, children or no, be set ablaze as she was now….that if they should recall this day and feel the misery and sadness that was guilt for her death…if they were to die knowing the pain she felt now as the flames lapped around her ankles and the smoke clouded her thoughts, she asked that they be forgiven, if it were at all possible.”

 

“Are you reading those Witch Burning stories to her again nana?” The Old woman looked up to see the silver pixie flutter in with the scarlet bundle in her arms. She set the woven basket down on the nightstand and settled down softly on a large fold of the black comforter. “You know, your going to give her hatful ideas about those people, if not nightmares.”

 

“But I enjoy listening to them Vieira!” The young girl giggled and blew at a shinny lock of black and olive hair that had made its way in front of her face. “Sometimes its like I'm there, watching them. I know that many people did not feel sorry for killing them, but I still forgive them. They didn't know that they were doing something bad to nice people, they were just following along with what other people said.” She giggled again and blew at the lock of hair, it tickled her nose and she sneezed.

 

“Ashiel, calm down,” Nana said quietly, she reached over and tucked the lock behind her granddaughter's ear then looked over at Vieira. “Is that her?” she asked curiously.

 

“Yes,” Vieira said softly, her beautiful golden hair waved around her as if it weighed nothing as she turned the bundle in her arms to the two could see its contents. Within the scarlet bundle of silk wiggled a tiny peach skinned infant. The baby opened its eyes and yawned wide enough to make Ashiel fall into a fit of giggles and soon the baby followed.

 

Vieira looked over at Ashiel as the child drew closer, still teary-eyed from the laughter. The baby cooed and extended her arms as The toddler stuck her pinky finger down. The baby giggled and grabbed onto the enormous finger with eagerness. She moved her hands around the grooves in the skin before biting down on the fingernail. This caused Ashiel to fall into another fit of giggles, a little more controlled since there was a baby pixy about a millimeter big gumming on her pinky nail, but it still took her a while to quiet down.

 

“Well, it looks like you and Jinx have become friends.” Vieira smiled at nana and the old woman smiled back.

 

“Jinx? Is that her name?” She asked, blowing softly at the baby pixie to make her small patch of blonde hair swivel around the tubby smiling face.

 

“Yes, I named her that because she was borne on Friday 13 two months ago.”

 

“Coooool” Ashiel breathed and backed away a bit to turn to face her grandmother.

 

`Ashiel, maybe we should finish the story yes?” The woman asked and Vieira bowed her head and fluttered away to the wooden dollhouse that was her home. She proffered the oak tree's branches but with the people of this town always so paranoid and always so nosily poking around Nana's home she would rather be safe in this house than comfortable in the middle of danger, especially after her baby has finally arrived from the hidden forest of Lefterling.

 

Vieira placed her daughter in the Oakwood cradle Nana had carved from the broken branch that had been torn from the tree buy the small hurricane they had last spring. She sniffed the air and tensed. Midnight was approaching and nana was going to have to leave soon. They air grew tenser and thicker as the fog from the afterlife flowed from invisible portals leading to the spirit world.

 

“The smoke was suffocating her, the burns from the flames sending waves of pain over her body as she was surrounded by scorching heat. She felt compelled to pass out, but wanted to show her strength. Despite the pain that pushed her into unconsciousness, despite the heat that made her blood sting, despite the smoke that urged her eyes to close, she forced herself to keep awake as long as possible. She watched the people celebrate as she burned…” Nana's voice grew strained and tired; she breathed in deeply and forced herself to continue.

 

“The black smoke was thick,” Not nearly as thick at the air as the night slowly reached its peak, “She could hardly see through the darkness,” Much like the shadows that were clouding her own vision. “The air around her was no longer breathable.” She took in deep frayed breaths as she forced herself to complete the story before the night reached its peak. “and slowly she drifted into unconsciousness, the peaceful feeling she had before death released her from the heat of the fire and sent her on her journey to the spirit world where she would await her rebirth in the form of a new creature, perhaps in a species more tolerant of her beliefs.”

 

With the last line read she lest her breath ease out and slid her eyes shut. Ashiel rested her head against her grandma's chest as she listened to the last beat of the heart. A tear slid down Vieira's cheek as the child drifted to sleep onto of her grandmothers cooling limp body. In the morning they would set about her funeral pyre. The ashes would be brought to Lefterling and placed where all the rest of the great Guardian Witches urns were. Ashiel might one day be in that same temple. Maybe…

 

Jinx slept softly as the thickness in the air vanished. Midnight had passed, the grandfather clock in the corner said 12: 47. Humans didn't really go by the natural time, they always wanted to make everything themselves. To put themselves up higher.

 

The thought kind of made Vieira smile. “Humans…” She said aloud. Still, she sat there, on the bedpost of Ashiel Canopy bet, watching the young girl sleep soundly by her dead grandmother, until the sun rose the next morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bare-Foot and Bleeding

Running barefoot through the darkening forest

My dress snags on the hanging branches

It tears through the fabric and my flesh,

My life's blood flows to the ground

In a pool of crimson

I die slowly.

But the slow leak of my life

Upon this dark forest floor

Only prolongs my suffering

My fear in my dangerous surroundings

I hear the forest beasts

Some howling at the darkness,

Some watching me silently as I run past

I see them and their pity,

They want to help me I know they do,

But none are brave enough to come out

To defend me from my attackers;

To help me escape my fears.

I continue my journey,

My pain envelops me.

The light of the world completely gone from my sight.

I am alone with the darkness,

Alone with my fears

My weaknesses,

All my hopes have abandoned me at this one moment.

No one helps me

No one saves me

I am alone.

Barefoot and Bleeding