[eel.]

fable name: Aquilah
entry:
well, I’ll be damned. Annie wasn’t lying. Ronnie studied the fountain in front of him, half-expecting it to up and vanish. it didn’t look like much – a wide, circular fountain made of the same brown earth as the ground, with a small birdbath at its center, the water burbling merrily over the edges – but it stayed where it was.

huh. he was glad the fountain was real – it meant the missing fables really did go missing. probably. but it also meant Annie got to walk free, when he knew she was up to no good.

focus on the task at hand, he chided himself. finding the missing tourists.

he circled the fountain once, looking for tracks. the dusty earth was smooth and undisturbed – no sign of anyone else, not even Annie.

Ronnie frowned and approached the fountain. it didn’t look disturbed. there were no coins on the bottom, no flowers floating on its surface. he highly doubted it was a fountain of youth, like Annie claimed – magic would never be kind enough to create something that nice. besides, Ronnie didn’t need youth. he was fine as he was now, thank you very much.

he stopped at the edge of the fountain, frowning at its bottom, where the stone was worn smooth by the water. it was clear no one had been here, not in a while. had Annie been lying after all?

his reflection frowned back at him, and Ronnie sighed. his brown fur was stained almost red with dirt, and leaves were stuck in his tail. he'd need to bathe once he got back to Eaton.

water sprayed across his reflection, and Ronnie looked up to see a juvenile eagle land in the birdbath, eagerly ducking its head under the cool water. cute little thing.

Ronnie took a last look at his reflection, and nearly leaped out of his fur. his reflection was scowling at him, its face angry in a way Ronnie hadn’t let himself be angry in a long time.

the reflection turned its head, its attention, to the side. Ronnie became distantly aware that the reflection’s fur was neatly kept, its horn short, like a snapshot of his youth.

the reflection snarled, revealing its sharp teeth. the objects of its anger weren’t clear, just silhouettes, shadows really, on the floor of the fountain. but Ronnie would recognize the shape of those fables anywhere. what kind of father would he be if he didn’t?

one by one, the shadows vanished. Ronnie’s reflection turned back to him, scowling, its eyes narrowed, and then it, too, vanished as the eagle took off and sent another shower of water spraying over the edge of the birdbath, splattering into the fountain basin.

when the water finally stilled, Ronnie’s reflection was his own again. a single feather floated down to rest lightly on the surface of the water.

Ronnie looked up, at the edge of the birdbath, where one word was etched again and again around its rim, only visible now that he was so close to it. veritas. he didn’t speak the old language, but he knew enough to know that meant truth.

yeah. magic would never be kind enough to give him something like a fountain of youth.

Ronnie turned and left, back to his search, trying desperately to forget the odd reflection. he didn’t need it to tell him he was a bad father – he knew that already. but was that the truth of him? it couldn’t be. could it?

[Baobabel]

fable name: Stasis
entry:

One dark, one neutral, one light
One angry, one sad, one delight

Loss, stasis, gain
Action, idle, sustain

Neglect, ignore, encourage
Fear, panic, courage

Destroy, maintain, grow
Death, life, limbo

Future, past, present?
Or three options for ascent?