[certified]

This fable grants small wishes — but only under one strange condition.
Tell me about it in a story. (No more than 500 word please!)



Code: Select all

name:
Prompt:







base: moth
wings: fairy
ears: fae
tail: pom
exras: halos/glow










ends June 7th

[honeybunchesofoats]

AGGRESSIVE MARK

[Oceanfosh]

name:

Svetla

prompt:

Nohur brushed aside the undergrowth as he travelled down a very, very unused path. Ahead of him-- a small cottage, inside which he knew was one rumored to grant even the most unlikely wish, small though it must be. Possible
He, perhaps contrary to what may be expected, had no intention of asking for a wish in the typical sense. His true intention...

He knocked. After a moment he could hear footsteps, gentle tapping across the ground as the other magic user came to the door and pushed it open.

"Hello!" She said. She seemed unbothered by Nohur's foreboding presence, and opened the door further before stepping back to let him in. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea?"

"I'm not here to waste time." Nohur said flatly, remaining where he was before the door. "I want you to join our-"

"Your lab...." She was preparing tea anyways, perhaps just for herself. "You'd take my power all for yourself, truly?" She glanced up at him. "Seems fitting for one such as yourself...."

"....How did you know that?" A disturbed look mixed with genuine curiosity crossed his face. "Are you... a mind magic user?"

"Yes. And if you wish to have me join you all.... You must tell me a story. A story in not just words, but imagery, sounds, smells.... Show me the most interesting part of your sorry life.... And I shall lend you my time."

".........." Nohur was reluctant to do such a thing. But someone of such rare magic--also rumored to be a light magic user--was invaluable to Project Zero. He must.

And so, he spoke of a tale he'd lived before, bringing to mind vivid landscapes full of war, secret meetings in the pitch black of night, betrayals to those close to him. He recalled his rise in the usage of shadow magic.... the split between him and his brother.... and his secret hopes for his own gain and The Leader of the shadow cats. A storyteller he was not-- but the memories burned bright regardless.

She smiled.
"How intriguing. A life I have not had, yes..... I will be happy to assist you." she lifted up a cup of tea. "Are you certain you don't want any?"
"Very."
"Meet me in three days."

She shut the door without further notice, her footsteps retreating back into the cottage... And Nohur turned, feeling jarred and uneasy-- did she know too much? Well. He'd deal with it as it came to it.

....

......


Svetla hasitly scribbled down pictures and lines from Nohur's prose. Then, ripping them out of her notebook, she pinned it to the wall-- a wall covered in hundreds of little stories, a life she could not have-- trapped within this cottage, resigned to living a life for others, and not herself. And for the taste of a free life, she'd do it many years more.

[479 words]

[leopia]

/ leo marking

[squeegi]

res w/ trading memories for a wish :]

[ylesia]

name: Cenou (the inspiration here is fun: "cenoura" means carrot in Portuguese, while "cenou" means price in Czech)

Prompt: [500 words]

«W-what?» Everett asked.

«I need a carrot. That's the price to have your wish granted», replied Cenou.

Cenou was both annoyed and amused. Seeing the amazement on clients' faces when he told them the price for his services was always wonderful. However, he didn't understand why they were so amazed — carrots were the most delicious thing the earth could produce! What more could he ask for?

«How am I supposed to find a carrot here?» Everett continued, looking around.

He wasn't wrong. They were on the rocky slope of a rocky mountain. There were no carrots there. And that was exactly his point.

«That's not my problem. Bring me a carrot and I'll grant your wish».

Everett muttered something as they walked away. Cenou could only make out the words “stupid”, “rocks” and “not worth it”. He stood up and stretched. The sun had almost set and he was tired. He walked to the hut he rented and went to sleep.

He was surrounded by carrots. Talking carrots. Dancing carrots. Orange, purple, white carrots. They held hands in circle and sang a silly jingle. He happily hopped inside the carrot circle. Then something interrupted them. It was a stranger — not one of the familiar voices of the carrots. The stranger was calling to him and he could make out words like “wish”, “rock” and... “carrot”?

Cenou woke up. Someone was knocking on the door of his hut. He went to open it, still thinking about dancing carrots. In front of him stood Everett. In the darkness of night, the huge figure looked even bigger than they really were.

«Do you know what time is it, Everett?» Cenou asked, moving aside to avoid being crushed by the huge figure entering his hut uninvited.

«I know! But I need that wish!»

«And I need a carrot!»

Everett smashed a carrot in front of him. It was a small carrot, a purple carrot. But still a carrot. «Here, have your carrot. Now, my wish» Everett said.

«Oh» Cenou replied. He took the carrot in his teeth and nibbled at it. It wasn't bad. Not the best carrot he had ever tasted, but well, the price had been paid.

«So you want the rocks to be able to listen to you?» he asked.

Everett nodded eagerly.

«And how would you know that they can hear you if they can't talk back?»

«Why wouldn't they? You can grant wishes, can't you?»

«Of course I can! I would never fool you! Just... why... I-I can't see the difference! You can talk to rocks even now. I mean, even if they could listen they wouldn't do anything! They're rocks!»

«I just want them to be able to listen. Can you do it? I gave you the carrot!»

Cenou grumbled and closed his eyes.

«Done, now they can listen», he said in a tired voice.

Everett giggled and left the hut. Cenou could already hear them talking to rocks. He smiled and went back to sleep.

[Sunbeargirl]

Marking! So cute!

[ChxosAngxl]

Name: Vysla
Prompt: Vysla always comes up with a different condition for everyone that comes to her with a wish.
"Vysla had the power to grant small wishes: a lost heirloom returned, a sprained ankle healed, a last-minute rain for thirsty crops. But her gifts never went unchecked. There was one rule — a single, strange condition that no one could avoid:

“To receive your wish, you must first give something absurd.”

This didn’t mean gold or jewels or even a promise. No. The price was always something deeply illogical — a whispered poem to a squirrel, a song sung backward while hopping on one foot, or planting a spoon in the earth and naming it “Captain Soil.”
The absurdity had to be genuine, unforced, and joyfully given. Vysla, wise as the hills and playful as a fox, knew the world was drowning in seriousness. By asking for nonsense, she filtered out greed and pride. Only those humble enough to laugh at themselves could earn her grace.

One day, a young boy named Elric came to her. His village was wilting under a blight, and he asked Vysla, eyes wet with hope, “Can you make the river run clear again?”
Vysla blinked her emerald eyes, fluttered her wings, and said, “Yes, but first you must balance a potato on your head and serenade the oldest oak with a love song for moss.”
Elric hesitated, glancing around. But then he shrugged, found a potato in his satchel, and performed a wobbly, off-key ode to lichen and bark. Vysla’s laugh was like a wind chime struck by sunlight.

The river cleared the next morning."

[Hanna]

name: Panna (meaning "grace; emerald, leaf" in Hindi)
Prompt:
500 words
Readable here on toyhouse!

Panna stands in her kitchen, staring at the small jars lining the cabinet in front of her. Each one contains a swirling green gas that glitters and sparkles in the light. It was hard to make out in the daytime, but their golden glow was just barely visible. She sighs and turns away from the cabinet. She wants to grant wishes, but very few people can fulfill the necessary conditions. Someone knocks on her door, and she sighs again.

She opens the door to see a simple brown horse Fable. Nothing about him stands out to her. He clearly possesses no magic, nor is he a creature of the forest. He will likely fail the task. Panna wants to help them! But the conditions must be correct.

"How can I help you?" Panna asks politely.

"Yes," he says hesitantly. "My daughter is sick, and we can't afford medicine. I was told you grant small wishes?"

"I do, but curing illness doesn't count like a small wish. It's a pretty large one."

He nods, "I just want medicine. Something to make her feel better. I'm desperate."

"Three tasks you must meet," Panna begins. "First, seek out the woodland sprites. Second, figure out a way to bring one here. Third, await judgement."

He eyes Panna. "That's it?"

She nods. "That's it."

He leaves and Panna gets to the rest of her daily chores. She cares for her flock and cleans her house and gets everything she need to do done before he returns. The woodland sprite comes through her door's window before the Fable is able to knock.

"Hello, dear one," Panna says to them before helping them rest on her table. "Welcome back, sir. Please take a seat."

He sits down, unsure, while Panna returns to the woodland sprite. The little green sprite has a golden glow to compliment its green dress which drapes over its bark-like humanoid body. Panna offers her hoof and it hops on.

"My dear, I have a question," Panna says to the sprite. "How did this Fable get you here?"

"He asked," it says plainly, and Panna nods.

"Thank you. Would you offer some of your magic to me?" The sprite nods and sprinkles some of it's fairy dust into a glass container before floating out the door once again.

Panna turns to the Fable. "You asked?"

He nods, unsure. "I didn't want to hurt them. It didn't feel right to steal one from its home just to solve my own problems. That's not how I want to teach my daughter to be."

"You passed my true condition. Some may find it strange, but you must get a sprite to give their magic willingly. If forced, the wish won't be granted. Most fail. Those with bad intentions and no magic never locate a sprite at all. Usually, a magic haver will catch one and force it to my home. Their wish is not granted. But I may grant yours now."

He smiles. "Thank you."

"Of course."

[FoxyCipher]

name: Lleucu
Prompt: (494 words)

"Reciprocity. Ever heard of it?"

Those five words had almost become a mantra to Lleucu, with as often as they found themselves repeating it to whatever stranger happened to be balking at them this week. Their terms were simple, really - I'll grant your wish, but you have to grant me one in return. It was a rule as old as the land, as old as names, as old as magic itself. (Granted, they didn't have to specify what their wish was until after the bargain was struck, but that was the other person's problem.) It wasn't Lleucu's fault that so many had forgotten the old ways, treating the simple act of fair exchange like they were being fleeced out of their very soul. If anything, they were being remarkably upfront for one of their kind, and Their Kind were neither honest, nor nice, nor fair, even at the best of times.

But if someone wanted to make a massive stink about having to exchange wishes, that was their loss. Lleucu couldn't care either way. And so, one way or another, the wishes kept being made, and Lleucu kept doing what they did best: crafting unique counter-wishes to suit the nature of whatever wish was given to them.

Typical requests were what any wish-granter could reasonably expect to hear - money, power, love, healing. Sometimes they'd get a request for assistance with fertility, or to purify a stretch of land long since polluted and barren. Outright murder was out of the question, of course, but accidents could always be arranged. There were very few wishes Lleucu wouldn't grant, and what fun was there in denying a wish, anyways? That just meant they were losing a business opportunity.

Something small like "I wish I had enough money to pay rent" merited little more than the taking of an equally valued memory. Love-based wishes often involved cutting ties with a loved one ("the affection you'll lose from them, you'll gain tenfold from the new person" was Lleucu's favored explanation). A wish to dispose of a political rival often meant that an ally would also mysteriously disappear after the wisher completed a seemingly innocuous task as payment. Bringing someone back from the brink of death invoked the old "your life for theirs" bargain, and more fools than most were more than happy to make that swap.

In truth, though, Lleucu's favorite kinds of wishes to grant were the smart ones - the kind with haughty wording and clever loopholes baked in, intended as a snare to capture and trap, rather than making any sort of change to the wisher's life. Those kinds of wishes opened the opportunity for fair play: the kind that ended with contracts of servitude, missing years, and, occasionally, a new missing poster flapping in the wind. Lleucu never felt bad about granting those types of wishes - after all, the poor sap had been warned of the consequences well ahead of time.

"Reciprocity. Ever heard of it?"