#monthlymagic

[writingonesdreams]

Monthly Magic prompt: Leave them Underground

I walk the city with my eyes open and my heart in my throat, wishing I could unsee.

There is fog around everything. People walk, their faces blank, eyes empty, everyone walking like puppets on strings, uniform and synchronized. Brainwashed and lost.

Not a single drop of resentment, of resistance. No one is even angry. The colours of the streets shine more than their souls.

Seems like I'm the only one left with that, that burning disgusting spite. I want to smash things. I want to shake them from their zombie like hypnosis. Everyone saying the same thing. Staying safe.

Cause suddenly magic is the enemy, the enemy among us, the enemy that divides us and unites us against each other.

I wish I could forget what I know. That I could leave my anger and the fire, that I could let my mind succumb to the pressure and my heart go numb. It would be easier. I would be part of the group again. I would be ignorant and happy, my fate in someone else's hands.

I miss it. I miss it so much to be stuck in rigid systems of senseless authories, to be sure of what I was doing, cause there was no choice to be made, because no one was asking.

Decisions and free will? Pche. They just make people miserable. Breaking under the pressure to decide for oneself, everyone will happily trade freedom for safety, fairness for submission, just so they wouldn't feel the guilt installed into them.

The media. The authorities. The experts. I don't even know who to blame anymore. Psychopaths among us? The vulnerable human nature to be and do good?

Twisting that intent is so easy. And now here were are. Lost on politics of rights, of existence, status, influence, recognition and dominance. Cause if you are against us, you are wrong and worthy of social death. If you are against us, you have no right to be free and happy. You are a monster guilty of human crime, of being too selfish to think about others, even if the rules make no sense and the only ones winning are the secret puppeteers behind it.

I don't know who to blame. I don't know how to fight. The frustration will eat me alive at this pace, and my revolting won't change anything. Stepping up would just get me killed.

I wish I could be brainwashed, compliant and ignorant again. To leave my knowledge underground.

[pheita]

The Monthly Magic Blog is up!

Last week I talked about this idea, and here we are @monthly-magic ! So make sure to follow the blog and spread the word. In case anyone missed it: Monthy Magic is a monthly “challenge” where writers and artists, and those who are both can use the given prompt in any shape they see fit, and maybe even mix and match the outlets, if the muses are with them. The first prompt will be up on May 1st at 4pm Central European Standard Time.  Tagging the folks who were interested in the idea: @kajsaschubeler @contes-de-rheio  @kainablue  @viskafrer  @gwens-fiction @ashen-crest  @mel-writes-with-her-dragons

[hi-5-sunflower]

Mysterious Plants short story!

I can't even explain how stoked I am about this month's @monthly-magic theme! Without further ado, here's my submission for July!

[Picture ID: A marbled background in various green hues, yellow and white. A black writing in the middle saying "#3 Mysterious Plants" End ID]

Word count: 1,200

Summary: a young gardener gets a real shock when he tries to figure out an unusual plant.

Content notices: Some eerieness/creepiness, metaphorical violence, a sense of being trapped and disembodiment. (But it has a happy ending!) (Also please let me know if anybody feels other warnings need to be added.)

Author’s note: This event is not canon, but it features one of the protagonists and the magic system from Through the Eyes of the Aether.

Saeed sat with his back against a birch tree, gently twisting the little sprig between his fingers.

What are you?

At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about it: a narrow, flexible vine, with blade-shaped leaves sprouting out at regular intervals, reddish purple in color. A simple cutting from a simple plant. If all he was going on was its look, he’d figure it was one of thousands of ordinary plants native to the three realms.

But he was Saeed Azhari, and he wasn’t going on looks alone.

He took in a breath of crisp mountain air and let the background chatter of his mind fall silent. Within seconds, the aether filled his awareness, swirling and flowing around him like an invisible, immaterial mist. Lifeblood of the universe, the aether was the force which gave life to all things; even now he felt it coursing through him, humming throughout his body, providing the sturdy strength of the birch tree behind him, the contented calm of the grasses carpeting the hills as they drank in the warm afternoon sunlight.

And then, against the backdrop of all that, was this.

This anomaly of a plant. Absorbed in aether-oneness as he was now, Saeed sensed the plant’s essence more strongly than ever—the flickering, staticky edges, the buzzing hunger, the too-large energy signature for a thing of its size.

He’d been gardening since before he could remember, and had since spent his whole life dealing with plants of all sorts. To be sure, there were some unique ones out there, ones with strange and powerful qualities…and yet, none of them had ever been anything like this.

He narrowed his focus onto it, resisting the urge to flinch away, shaking off the sense that he was peering into the gaping jaws of a many-toothed beast. He borrowed a dose of the birch tree’s unwavering calm, letting it wash over him and hoping it would last. Then he allowed the edges of his metaphysical self to meet with those of the strange plant, dissolving.

As the bond coalesced, he spoke to it in the language of flora, which wasn’t one of words but of simple feelings and impressions. He let a soft, soothing reassurance blossom inside him and sent it outward. It’s okay, he tried to convey. I’m not gonna hurt you.

He gritted his teeth as the plant’s response lit up within him. Its energy was cold and blinding-bright, like winter sun glancing off an icicle, and it was restless, agitated. Barely contained. Saeed continued to radiate calm, hoping to settle it, but its disquiet only seemed to grow.

Back in his body, he felt his heart rate pick up. Something in his gut was telling him to back off, retreat, leave this thing alone and never look back—

Too late.

Without warning, it swallowed him.

It happened so fast it took him a moment to make sense of it. His essence was engulfed by that of the plant, siphoned from his body and confined within a bubble of icy, sparking voracity, leaving him trapped and formless.

No!

As far as he knew, his physical self was unharmed—probably—assuming he could get back to it in short order. If not…

No. No time to think about that now.

Hey! He turned his attention to the plant-being, thrusting out with a pulse of what little he had left of his energy. Let me go!

But it bounced back inward, and the plant didn’t listen. Now that he was…within it, he sensed its singleminded drive to expand itself ever further. That tiny, innocent herb was a ruse. This thing, whatever it was, had a bottomless desire to strengthen itself at any cost. What else—who else—had it consumed before him?

Tiny wisp of life that he was, Saeed use everything at his disposal, which wasn’t much. He thrashed and flailed, struggled and strained, but nothing worked. He did his damndest to scream.

Let me out of here!!!

The plant ignored him.

Saeed fell still, his hope rapidly fizzling. He needed to get back to his body. But what was he supposed to do? What could he offer it? Did it want for the same things plants usually wanted?

Please, he begged. If you let me go, I’ll find you a nice patch of earth. Some rich soil. Plenty of sunlight. Water. Anything you want.

Nothing.

For a long moment he remained quiet, thinking. There had to be something he could do to convince it.

An idea slowly took shape, and he decided to try one last thing.

He focused on his presence, and calmly, he began to expand it. He claimed a wisp of energy from the bubble around him, and then another, drawing it into himself. The plant reacted frantically, fighting to maintain itself. He could practically hear it hissing and spitting, clawing at its precious aether. But Saeed didn’t waver, and he felt himself grow stronger.

No, he said firmly. This belongs to me.

With rigid concentration, he soon had control over more of the shared energy than the plant did. He opened a gap in the bubble, letting himself flow back into his mortal form.

All at once he had lungs again, and they burned as he gasped for air, opening his eyes. The plant had fallen to the grass below, deceptively limp, but the connection hadn’t fully broken. It pulled at him, desperate to take what he’d reclaimed, but he was ready for it this time, and he pushed back.

Absolutely not, he said. This is mine. You can’t have it.

Reluctantly, the plant’s presence shrunk back into itself. He could’ve sworn he heard it whimper. He paused, staring at it, purple leaves splayed against green grass.

Then he made up his mind. Let me show you a better way, he offered to it, extending an incorporeal hand. Cautious but curious, the plant sent back a meek puff of agreement.

With the plant bearing witness, Saeed felt for the loose energy drifting all around them, floating in the air, the excess aether given off by living forms, yet unclaimed by new ones. It wasn’t as concentrated as the energy powering a living being, but it was there, freely available, and he demonstrated how to absorb it, invigorating himself with it.

“See,” he said aloud to the little vine, “you just have to be patient. But there’s plenty of it here, and you can have as much as you want.”

It repeated his action, and afterward, he felt a ripple of satisfaction flutter through it. Good, it seemed to say.

Saeed didn’t conceal the pride that swelled within him.

“Hey, you wanna go for a ride? There’s this neat place I can show you…”

He slid his fingers beneath its leaves, and in response it gently coiled around his wrist. As he stood up and set course for the riverside, he had no doubt that he’d found a very special new friend.

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Magic Within Skills

[Picture ID: A dark silver background with a night sky of millions of small stars with a black writing in the middle saying #2 Hidden Magic Finish ID]

A/N: This is a tale written for the @monthly-magic​ ​prompt, because it took me a while to write since it had been announced. My first time joining this, because this prompt was so fun and I'm going to write/post another story with the same theme, fandom related obvs. Hope people enjoy it! The story takes place in my WIP after the MC’s years of college. This isn’t a fantasy tale, however, I tried to sprinkle some ✨ Enchant ✨ magic dust in it.

Word Count: 1550

TW: None

***

Round of cheers and applause turns loud, reaching to backstage. People are getting ready for a performance guaranteed to impress the audience. Dancers, who prepared in advance, chat as they occupy luxurious chairs. Some of them are preparing their costumes for a part, they’re going to dance as. Some are reminding themselves of their specific steps.

Everything is set: lights are bright, props are set in place, and the music sets a mood for a scene to be played out. Yet there is something amiss. Or someone.

As a dancer arrives late to the room, she lowers her head, and rushes towards the dressing area. If someone spots her, they’d probably have a fit about her lack of punctuality.

Good thing, she’s already in her costume for the ballet that they’re putting out tonight. She’d be in trouble if she didn’t.

As some dancers leave a vanity table, she goes to check if she’s good to go.

Glancing at her face at a mirror, she trails a patch of rogue applied on her cheek. Her hair’s down and loose in ripples over her back. She fits a part for a princess waiting for her true love, instead of a confidante of the leading protagonist. Her pale costume, embroidered with gems and stitched with an exquisite fabric, appears to belong for the star of the story.

Only the cosmetics lets her look as if she’s a ghost. It covers most of her fair skin, erasing any remnants of energy within her. All she has to do is dance a part of a person, who’s haunted by darkness of her past. She jotted the entire idea and she’s no stranger of what unkind memories used to be.

She’s only a supporting dancer, not a principle dancer. She has a small solo act and rest of the show can proceed to go on without her.

It won’t fall apart if she goes.

Cassie takes a deep breath to clear her nerves.

It’s not her first dance performance. Yet it’s sure not to be in front of an audience either.

A stage manager beckons her to perform out there. She follows an instruction given to her. She moves some strands of her hair from her face.

Getting out to the center of the stage, she lies down over a wooden floor. A set of spotlights fall on her, ready to follow each of her steps.

Five, six, seven, eight. . .

When curtains begin rising, Cassie sits up to look at the audience. She lifts an arm, lowering it at her side. She gets up to a sinister resonance of music, raising her leg while maintaining her posture on foot. She leans downwards and stretches her arms behind with her head tilting backwards. Her muscles tighten at exertion except she has to go on.

Moving to a closed position, she stands with her feet close together. She slides them equally, causing a distance between them. She leaps in the air, reaching the floor with a careful landing.

Leaning to a side, she transfers a pressure onto a leg on full pointe. She tries to remain steady then twirls across stage while music changes into a slower rhythm. From her peripheral, the audience watches her unabashed interest.

A warmth lingers through her. She’s dancing without caring if she’s the leading star. She dances because she likes to.

Raising her arms in the air, she presses her leg over the other, and spins around. She leans herself forward, forming into a different position. She dances to a calm flow of music, rapt with it’s notes. Dancing with her best and ability that she trained for.

Dancing like there’s a hidden magic within the grace of her steps. It’s sweeping through her, guiding her to a tempo of a course.

Music accompanies her as she throws a leg in the air, pushing off the floor with another. She jumps up and lands precisely on her first leg.

A member of the crowd gasps.

She lowers herself, close to sinking into a heap.

Waiting for music to fade, she lets her eyes fall downcast.

As the audience gives a round of applause, she bows to them as velvet curtains fall. She goes backstage, where the next ensemble of dancers wait for their cue. She walks the room with a physical ache slowing her down.

It’s a good type of ache, though. It’s a result when she danced to her heart’s content. Being a ballet dancer’s incredible.

You’re a worthless piece of work, only good for nothing.

Numbed by a haunting voice, she fights an onslaught of insecurity. Maybe her efforts aren’t worth much.

***

Birds perch on a sill of a window, singing to a bright tune. Another bird taps it’s beak on the glass as if to enter. Mild rain crashes down on a grove of trees, trickling over their heads, and turn their feathers wet. They shake on cold temperature of the night. Dark clouds scattered across blue sky, concealing the moon and stars. Only streetlights illuminate a location.

It seems to resemble a painting: serenity of nature being an inspiration, birds being a part of it’s view, and rain creates a mood. Yet no person’s actually turning it into a chance to paint.

Opening a window, he lets those birds check his room. He chuckles while they chirp in frustration. They visit his home every day, stopping by on any window. They don’t do it at night unless the weather changed their plans.

If the cats go in here, they might cause trouble for them. However, they’re rather occupied with being lazy and sleeping with dreams of food.

Krispin’s eyes fall on the window. He watches raindrops dripping down over a leaf, slipping down onto a branch. It lands to the grass in a splash. He grasps that fleeting moment, his heart picking up at a stream of an idea.

Energized by creativity, he open a drawer filled with painting supplies.

It’s been a while since he painted. He had been busy with his job and volunteering for an animal shelter, reducing much of his free time. Now that he’s got an entire night for himself, maybe he can try again.

Framing the subject of a painting, he captures it in his mind’s eye. He lifts a palette, propping it on a holder. He lays an empty canvas on an easel. He retrieves colors to match the ambience of rain. He pours berry blue, wood brown, and pine green on empty spots. He glances outside once more then focuses on evoking an image for this painting.

This rainy night might be a right muse.

Tracing an outline, he sketches a tree. He draws each shape and form he remembers, ensuring that he conveys all of it. From the highest bramble to the lowest branch, he concentrates on connecting each detail together. He designs a structure of small raindrops. After completing a contour, he proceeds to a major aspect.

With a paintbrush dipped in blue paint, he trails it on the canvas. He fills an expanse with varying hues of color, highlighting presence of rain at night. He avoids letting it smudge the outline, staying away from it’s graphite edges. He adds extra shades of dark blue to distinguish it all over it.

This entire painting can’t have only one shade of color. It’s what charms an interest of a person, who might find it in their sight.

Just as he completes the sky, he blends colors together to form a different one. He cleans his paintbrush with water before soaking it in brown paint. He sweeps it on branches and trunk lightly. He changes some colors to resemble rain, painting each drop outlined throughout the canvas.

So far, this progress appears to be a close replica of that scenery.

When he steps back, he remains still. His hands slightly cramp because of his efforts. His mind still carries the canvas’ subject. His heart flutters while his chest loosens. He sighs at a feeling of painting again.

Whether anyone looks at them or not, a joy lingers in his being. He paints because he believes in himself. Paints because his creativity can be expressed on a canvas if inspiration finds him.

Picking the paintbrush again, Krispin colors those leaves of a tree. Flecks of blue, green, and brown stains sleeves of his sweater. He paints with his imagination racing. Painting with beauty surrounding him.

Painting like there’s a hidden magic within the creativity of his soul. It’s flooding through him, bringing out a passion in him.

Colors soak through objects formed on the canvas as if it’s a part of nature. He leaves no traces of empty dots anywhere.

His pulse quickens at his process.

He lets his paintbrush down, upon completing his painting. Okay, this probably should do.

Gazing at the displayed art, he draws in a long breath.

At those results, he smiles at his daunting achievement.

It’s a good feeling. Pouring his heart and soul into what he loves to do. To express his appreciation for nature. To hold a paintbrush, trailing l it on a canvas. Being a painter developed his skills, helping him to find courage of discovering his true self.

Elated by the grand effort, he basks in a feeling of warmth.

***

[howl-of-the-blood]

Hidden Magic

@monthly-magic

I haven't written anything Howl of the Blood related in months, so here is a short scene I'm excited to write in the future. It's semi-spoilerish.

Oh and I created this banner for the event so if you don't want to read LOOK AT IT!

WC: 163

TW: none

Lalik may seem as a childish fool, hardly capable of taking care of themself. They may also seem like an incompetent weakling. And, truth be told, most of the times they are.

Barely a magician, barely a man - all worm, is what they often describes themself.

But Lalik has secrets - quite a few and quite dire ones.

One day they will be forced to openly demonstrate their power. They will freeze time, encapsulating three dozens of people in a bubble of stillness. A rather formidable feat for someone who has only a few tints of magic in his blood as they claim. And to their horror, Tajena will witness that.

She will learn that her childhood friend, a magician that can't juggle more than three balls at the same time, is actually a powerful mage. Looking at their eyes lit with magical luminescence, terrified and ashamed, she will begin to wonder just how many secrets does her friend hold.

[e-lisard]

Hidden Magic

In Cradle, not many people would expect there to be any hidden magic. Not in the Land of Magic itself, not where magic is used for everything. Ivy knows better than that. Maybe it's because she's one of few actual magic users, or perhaps it's just because she was raised to pay attention to every little thing around her, but she knows it's there. (And if only two people know she has magic, does that make her hidden magic as well?)

It's everywhere around them, in the little things everyone does, yet no one seems to notice it. It might even have been funny if it wasn't so frustrating. Careful conversations with the King of Hearts (and oh, how she hates to talk to her fiance, how she wishes to abolish the mere idea of arranged marriages) show not all magic users notice, while conversations with her cousin show that not everyone who's learned to pay attention to everything notices.

Maybe it's a combination of the two things, then. Ivy doesn't know anyone who falls in both categories, though. Other than herself, of course. It's hard to find others, too, with her father constantly bothering her and having to hide her position as the Nine of Spades while still doing what she needs to.

But maybe she doesn't need to find anyone. The hidden magic noticed her, after all, and is now constantly trying to interact with her when she's on her own, or even when she's with Bonbon. Not like the red panda can say much.

So maybe the hidden magic can remain her secret, while the truth of her magic abilities remains safe with the hidden magic. It's been lonely on her own, why would she chase away the only thing that doesn't mind the quiet?

@monthly-magic

[writinginslowmotion]

Monthly Magic: Under The Sea Moodboard

So I decided to create a hybrid mermaid/magic moodboard for @monthly-magic prompt "Under The Sea". I unfortunately couldn't manage to write anything, but I did have a lot of fun making this. And it works for Mermay

[kainablue-loves-art]

UNDER THE SEA

Thank you @monthly-magic for this month's prompt!

I abandoned this wip, but I still like him... it. Him. Ironically, I drew this merman above the sea, but heck he's a sea dweller, so it still counts.

For a more steamier version check my twitter 💦

[author-a-holmes]

Monthly Magic #1 - Under The Sea

@monthly-magic is a lovely blog where they provide a monthly creative “challenge” by providing a prompt, and accepting all forms of creations.

I decided to go with a Moodboard. I was going to do some writing to go with it, but I've just not had time this month. Maybe next time! <3

Unsplash Credits:

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash Photo by Silas Baisch on Unsplash Photo by Nsey Benajah on Unsplash Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash Photo by Vincent Anderson on Unsplash Photo by Christina Spiliotopoulou on Unsplash

[laceinthewoods]

Who's ready for my new subscription service? I am so excited to share this with you!! Go visit my story and vote for a name you like! "Crystal Moon Journey" or "Crystal Moon Magick" 💎🌕🌑✨ #crystals #moon #mooncycles #astrology #moonmagick #subscriptionbox #crystalsubscriptionbox #monthlymagic #learnastrology (at Crystals of Quartz) https://www.instagram.com/p/B6W7x-lB_hg/?igshid=1caiyqmrksu7a

[ashen-crest]

I had too much time to think today during all the errands I had to run, and somehow I got the weird idea that a modern day AU Emry would be probably that kind of slightly depressed young blues musician who lives from gig to gig and doesn't realize how much people like his music until he wonders why the bars he plays start to have him on a regular basis and pay actual cash. Don't ask me where the idea came from, but I wanted to tell it.

Oh and I loved your little story for the monthlymagic prompt. It made me smile so much while I waited for my subway.

Well, now I’m emotional over my breakfast because you’re absolutely right and you should say it!! Also, that’s kind of what he’s like in the beginning of the book. Not a blues musician necessarily, but he’s absolutely living gig to gig. Oh my poor boy.

And I’m glad you liked the beach scene :D

[altpress]

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[yarrowmagdalena]

The theme for this month`s ritual kit is Embodiment and you can still get it if you want! I send individual emails to all new Patreons and can send you access to this one and all the previous ones from January to May if you like! ⠀ ⠀ Here is what`s included for June: ⠀ ⠀ 🌱A sweet playlist to do some bedroom dancing to⠀ 🌱A tarot spread to explore embodiment⠀ 🌱A ritual suggestion for creative self-portraits⠀ 🌱A plant friend profile for rose⠀ 🌱Some resources around embodiment that I love⠀ 🌱A recipe for a super sexy rose oxymel⠀ 🌱An invitation to a workshop on embodied tarot + tea rituals on June 24th⠀ ⠀ Quick recap: ⠀ ⠀ My Patreon is supporting the podcast and free monthly webinars I am running and its also a chance for you to receive monthly ritual kits to make your own magic, access to my courses (DIY Business Magic, Wordpress web design and branding with Canva) as well as regular readings if you like. Find out more at Patreon.com/DaydreamingWolves You can cancel any time. ⠀ #daydreamingwolves #patreoncreator #monthlymagic #ritualmagic #selfcarematters #plantmedicine #folkherbalism #embodiment #embodied #intuitivedance #rose #tarotritual https://ift.tt/2MCiWm7

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Testing a Noble Duty

A/N: sksksksk, here’s a short tale. Supposedly, I wanted to post this months ago for @/monthlymagic but you know. . . uni and other stuff, lmao.

By some miracle I managed to complete it, so that’s a win. 😌✨

Featuring a tale of a knight belatedly figuring out the empire isn’t as noble as she thought. Thanks to alyuchi913 and @pagesofcursive​​ in the whimsy discord server for being betas! :D

Word Count: 1,328

TW: slightly political, i guess.

***

As the grand doors open, a figure marches down the carpet leading to the marble stairs. A pair of guards stand in front of the throne room, alert and at attention, letting the knight pass into the area.

If the queen wanted a job completed, she assigned the staff to do it for her.

The knight performed some odd jobs here and there, never having a second thought about any of the queen's decisions, fulfilling it for her responsibility.  If anyone had been against any of the queen's orders, the knight was obligated to drag them to the dungeon. No questions asked. It seemed to be the only way to accomplish what was necessary to keep the empire stable.

She didn't want to face the possibility of the queen's wrath, who seemed harmless but carried more power than anyone else in the realm. No one dared to challenge the queen, lest they were willing to deal with the consequences.

Regardless, the knight kept quiet and did her duties accordingly without much fuss.

It was no hard-ship, after all: she would stay true to her oath by serving to the queen.

She did everything she could for the realm, whether it meant keeping the citizens safe.

Well, at least, that was what the knight had thought for a long time.

But as time went by, her loyalty waned and questions began to haunt her mind. The knight didn't want to have doubts, but a small amount of caution would be suitable. Wouldn't it?

It didn't feel right to have sudden second thoughts of her devotion towards the empire. She had been a knight for four years, and she didn't have regrets for what she’d had to do during her service. Even though she had been unsure of threatening other officials from other lands. She had gone far beyond what she’d considered suitable to complete her objectives.

The knight did whatever she could  for the freedom of her nation.

And there was nothing wrong with it. . . for a while.

The final straw that broke the camel's back happened just this morning, when the queen summoned her for an opinion regarding her latest plan. Or her latest scheme, as someone else might call it.

"The empress of Zugon had committed a faux pas against her Majesty," the wiry advisor explained. "That's why we need to ensure she won't make such a mistake  again."

"She didn't respect me as an equal," the queen mutters, tightening her grasp on the edge of her throne, "and so she must pay for her unwelcome disrespect."

Typical royal behavior. It was no secret the queen had a pompous attitude, which matched the behavior of the former king and all those before her. "What do you mean by that?" the knight asked, keeping the judgement out of her voice.

"I shall start war with the empress for her treacherous actions!" the queen announced. "The upcoming announcement for the empire must be delivered as soon as possible. We have to prepare them for the inevitable."

Surely, it was a small misunderstanding? Maybe the queen could correspond with the empress to sort this issue. "Your Majesty," she murmured, raising her brows. "Is this wise? We can't start a war against the other nations."

"Are you asking me a question?" the queen demanded, her expression twisting.

The other knights gasped in unison as the advisor's hand started shaking the paper.

"Ye. . . Yes, your Majesty." The knight swallowed, taking a small step back.

Silence fills the room as the queen’s glare lands squarely on the knight, who  refuses to look away even as her stomach grows empty. She can't let her loyalty hide her from the truth, not anymore.  The knight knew of the ruthlessness of the queen but had never thought it would cause a lack of self-control on her part.

All the predecessors had waged wars against other nations, and it caused enough tragedy for all parties. The knight thought it was a necessity at the start. However, once she discovered the ramifications, she realized preventing it was a better solution. Especially for the innocent citizens who didn't deserve to be involved.

"It doesn't seem very fair," the knight said, staying true to her beliefs. "Surely, you can talk with the empress to sort this issue?"

"Well, we all have a price to pay for this."

"No, you have a choice to prevent this from occurring, your Majesty. I cannot stand by while you put the people at risk. This can't be the way." The knight clenches her jaw, biting the impulse to be rash. She didn't need to use a sword to challenge anyone: she had her voice,  and it proved to be a useful weapon against a potential opponent.

"I cannot believe it!" The queen raised her chin, baring her teeth. "You're defying me? Do you know what happens when you do, you foolish imbecile?"

"I'll be thrown into the dungeon," the knight answered, crossing her arms. "You can do that if you please, your Majesty. If you wish to be rid of me, then fine.”

The knight remained on the ground, squaring her shoulders. She didn't agree to be a knight who was only used as a pawn for the queen's benefit. She didn't want to be the knight who didn't have a mind of her own. She wanted to help and protect others in need,  not participate in another senseless war.

Perhaps, she had the wrong notion of what a knight is meant to be.

"If you so please," the queen started, casually leaning back on her seat. "You can leave the palace and be disbanded from your duty. What an utter disgrace for a knight. And here, I thought you understood that our realm is first."

"No, I understand that clearly," the knight says. "But it seems that I have a different perspective of how important the realm is to me than you do."

Removing her cape, she laid it upon the floor along with her shield and sword. The former knight avoided looking back at the eyes around her, slowly rising to her feet once more. She began to stride out of the room, and after walking out of the castle, the doors closed with a bang behind her.

If she remained quiet, she wouldn't be hunted down by the queen.

The former knight had been so lost in her devotion to the realm, she had been blind to the damages she had been a part of. She had ignored the pleas of the people who had known better and were against the queen's wishes. She didn't have any excuses for not listening, for not understanding sooner.

See the members of the realm lose themselves in order to please the queen disturbed her. Nay, it horrified her.

It went against the beliefs that had been instilled into her. The former knight had been taught to believe that the queen and her predecessors could do no wrong, that what they had done was necessary for the realm, regardless of whether or not it harmed others or destroyed the lives of other people.

If the queen decided to go to war against the empress, countless innocent citizens would suffer the consequences of such rash actions.

After all, the history of the realm told the royal family were honorable and good people. But what she had seen happen over the years of serving as a knight had shown her otherwise. The former knight had seen the hidden dark secrets roaming around the castle walls, but she had vowed to not share the information or face the punishment of execution.

For now, she could plan to leave the realm or how to rescue it without anyone else's knowledge. Her status as a knight had been taken away by the queen. She should be out of sight in the meantime.

Pulling the cloak over her head, she began to take the empty path ahead.

***

[author-a-holmes]

Monthly Magic

@monthly-magic

Just gonna share an excerpt from my current Nanowrimo project, because it happens to include some pretty strange plants. Tree's, specifically!

The Fey use "Sacred Tree's", either an Ash, Oak, Hawthorn or Birch, located in the centre of a Fairy Circle, as portals to the Mortal Realm.

In Chapter 2, my main characters make their way through the Forest of Portals to sneak their way into the Mortal Realm.

Excerpt Beneath the Cut, Wordcount Aprox 1,500

Her steps slowed slightly as she took in the small forest of Sacred Trees. Ash, Birch, Oak and Hawthorn, all acting as portals between the Fey and Mortal Realms, and powered by the Fairy Circles that grew around the base of each trunk. Their twisting limbs stretched up, tall and dark against the night sky and Lizzy was suddenly very grateful to have Booker at her side.

“Ready?” he asked quietly, and Lizzy braced herself before nodding.

Quietly, they climbed the wooden fence, hopping to the grass carpeted ground of the orchard, and quickly making use of the shadows cast by the forest of magical portals to stay out of sight of the roaming Court guards that patrolled the mushroom lined walkways.

“Which one do we need?” Booker whispered as they moved cautiously deeper into the trees, but Lizzy shrugged while carefully stepping over a line of mushrooms so that their destruction didn’t alert the guards to trespassers.

“I don’t have any way to activate a Fairy Circle, so we need one that’s been recently used and still has some lingering power,” she explained softly, “so just… look for the glowing blue mushrooms.”

“Do you not know which one Maddy’s delegation went through?” Booker asked, voice sharp, but he fell silent quickly when Lizzy shot him a sharp look of warning.

“Unless you have a way to activate it, it doesn’t matter,” she reminded him, “We can figure out where the delegation went once we’re there-” She cut herself off sharply when she spotted a patrolling guard approaching along one of the neatly trimmed pathways. Grabbing Booker’s hand and dragging them both behind a large Hawthorn to hide, they watched in tense silence as the guard wandered past her wings fluttering in boredom.

It was only once she was out of sight, and they were in no immediate danger of being overheard, that Booker continued, his voice low and quiet.

“Lizzy,” Booker muttered, “do you have any idea how big the Mortal Realm is? Without knowing which portal Maddy used…”

“Getting out of here is the hard part,” she deflected, “Once we’re there, they won’t follow us and we’ll have time to figure everything else out, and most importantly we’ll be that much closer to mum.”

A quick glance around the tree trunk and Lizzy was ready to move on, she released his hand only to tug lightly on his light linen coat to get him to follow her, “Come on, we need to find an active circle before one of the guards finds us.”

They didn’t have to go much deeper into the orchard, before Booker pointed out the bright blue glow of an active Fairy Circle, and Lizzy immediately headed towards it, excitement and the hope for answers distracting her until she almost walked head first into another of the Court guards.

It was only Booker’s grasp on her wrist, and the shadows of a large Oak that kept her from being seen. She turned to thank him, but silenced herself when he pressed the fingers of his free hand against his own lips, before tapping his temple and Lizzy grimaced at his silent request for telepathy.

Glancing at the guard by the active circle Lizzy watched the woman for a moment, hoping she would walk onto the next leg of her patrol, but the guard didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon and Lizzy slowly turned back to Booker, reluctantly nodding her acceptance.

It only took seconds for Booker to link up their minds, but Lizzy still wrinkled her nose and bit her lip at the uncomfortable sensation of something wriggling against her skull.

‘This would be so much easier if you didn’t fight it every time,’ came the quiet voice in her mind, and she shook her head.

‘I wouldn’t fight it, if it didn’t feel like a fly buzzing against my ear,’ she grumbled, glancing back at the guard again before adding, ‘what are we going to do about her?’

‘You just had to find the Fairy Circle with a permanently stationed guard, didn’t you?’ Booker complained, but with their thoughts linked Lizzy could almost taste the reluctant amusement behind his words.

‘How was I supposed to know?’ she shot back, and the strange sensation of a simultaneous laugh and sigh brushed across her mind.

‘Fine, fine, lemme think for a moment…’

Lizzy grimaced again when she felt the pressure in her head change as Booker retreated slightly and sank into his own thoughts, returning her own attention to the stationed guard. Her dislike for telepathy was just one more thing that set her apart from her peers.

A normal part of Fey society, Lizzy had always shied away from the contact, unless it was Booker or her mother. Someone inside her head always felt intimate and a little foreign to Lizzy, and yet there were some Fey who communicated almost exclusively via telepath.

Lizzy had made it a point to avoid those Fey as much as she could.

She felt Booker’s attention return to her, so wasn’t surprised when his voice echoed through her head once more.

‘I’m going to distract her,’ he said simply, and Lizzy turned to stare at him, eyebrows raised.

‘How?’

‘Do you trust me or not?’ He sent back, but she didn’t need to be inside his head to know he wasn’t as confident as he was pretending to be, the tightening around the corners of his mouth told her that much.

He must have sensed the argument brewing in her mind because Booker continued quickly, ‘Look, just be ready to make a run for the portal if this goes sideways,’ he told her, while dropping his bag onto her shoulder, and before Lizzy could summon any kind of an answer, Booker broke the contact between their minds and stepped away from the tree.

Lizzy watched him from her hiding spot as he made his way onto one of the cultivated paths that led towards the Court guard and began approaching confidently, his pace steady but brisk. The woman came sharply to attention when she heard him, turning to face Booker with an expression of wary warning that melted away as Lizzy watched Booker begin to speak to her, his voice quick and quiet.

She couldn’t make out what her friend was saying, but the guards' features were easy to read and they cycled from confused to panic stricken in a matter of moments, the reactions more than enough to reassure Lizzy that whatever Booker had intended, it was going to plan.

It was only when the guard's wings suddenly lifted away from her body, and she launched herself into the air, disappearing into the night as she quickly flew towards the town centre, that Lizzy felt her jaw drop open in shock.

“Lizzy!” Booker’s hissed call snapped her shocked gaze down from the sky and back to her friend, who was beckoning her urgently, “Hurry up, she won’t be gone long!”

Jerking into motion, Lizzy tightened her grasp around both their bags before jogging over to Booker’s side but he didn’t let her stop, just grabbing her free hand and sending them both running towards the oak tree surrounded by the active Fairy Circle, signified by the perfect ring of large white mushrooms that glowed bright blue, throbbing slowly with Fey magic.

The moment their feet crossed the ring of mushrooms and pressed against the soft grass the blue glow pulsed brighter and raced across the ground beneath their feet like a shockwave, closing in on the sacred tree before it hit and ran up the oaks trunk, sinking into the deep cracks between the bark and giving it a translucent appearance, before an aurora of warning lights lit up the sky above them.

“Shit!”

“Keep running!” Booker snapped back, tugging on Lizzy’s arm when her steps faltered at the light display they’d inadvertently triggered.

Lizzy could hear the sudden buzzing of Fey wings filling the air behind them, knew that the aurora would have summoned every Court guard in the vicinity, but seconds later she and Booker slammed into the still glowing trunk of the tree, and passed through it.

Bright blue faded to black, like the aftermath of an explosion, or from staring into a fire too long and then looking away. Lizzy had just enough time to realise that the whole sensation felt disturbingly like falling, before she slammed into solid ground. Her legs gave way beneath her from the force and Lizzy dropped their bags, her hands snapping out just in time to catch her forward momentum against the grass and to stop herself from smashing face first into the ground.

Booker’s anxious panting beside her suggested that her experience wasn’t a unique one, but Lizzy struggled through the moment of disorientation, rolling quickly to sit on the damp grass, staring anxiously at the tree they’d just passed through as she scrambled backwards and away from the portal.

Despite her reassurances to Booker earlier in the night, Lizzy half expected a contingent of Court guards to follow them through at any moment, dragging them both back to face… whatever the punishment was for an unauthorised portal access, but slowly the glow faded from the tree, leaching out from between the cracks in its bark and sinking into the soil before disappearing entirely.

“We did it,” Lizzy breathed, not quite able to believe in their success for a long moment before she suddenly released a relieved laugh as the realisation began to sink in.

[resurrect-oakland]

The December Monthly Forecast by @thelionessoracle is up on the blog! Themes are fiery creativity, healing with Piscean waters, and some mind opening with the upcoming Full Moon in Gemini. Check it out at resurrectoakland.com/blog 🔮🔮🔮 Alejandra will be reading tarot with her new deck at the shop on 12/28 from 2pm - 6pm for $40 readings. #tarotreader #tarot #monthlymagic #forecast #oaklandevents #tarotcards #tarotoakland #magic