Fables ✧ Lore Prompts

[boogiebug]

hmmm i suppose it’s time i give these a try hehe
mark!

[BelieverInChrist]

prompt: void
fable: Harpsichord
entry: [word count = 595]

She's falling far too fast.

There is only dark, thick as molasses before her eyes, but thin and cold around her body, without resistance. The feeling overtaking her legs is like being buffeted by sharp wind on a winter day, except her fur doesn't ruffle or ripple with the motion of falling, like the air in here is dead. The smooth coat on her legs, once pink, has been drained of color to a flat grey.

Not again... the straining thought is plucked out of her head the moment she thinks it. It's always hard to remember what you're supposed to do next.

I need to... Her limbs scream at her to flail. Her wings are already moving in sync, meeting with no resistance in the hollow space and doing nothing to stall her fall. A disembodied feather falls off, drifts sideways and away from her, and the vision grounds her in her body for long enough to finish the thought.

I need to BRACE!

And she does, because she is going to land very soon, though none of her five senses would tell her so.

She is lucky; her wings have given her cause to practice safe falling, a place outside the void to teach her body how to move. So she lets her muscles remember what they already know, removing the burden of thought. She leans forward, tucking her wings in and keeping her knees loose. It takes every ounce of willpower just to keep her body relaxed enough, so that when she hits...

*puff!*

The surface below gives to her weight easily, and she rolls a little to the side before standing up again. She had always thought it was like landing in a snowbank, but without the cold or wet sensations to accompany. Her legs sink in, nearly up to her chest, though it's only her subconscious that can make her understand what's happening. The physical sensation of landing is like the physical sensation of falling. That is, it feels like nothing.

Whatever the void might be, it was always tempting to write it off as purely a frame of mind. Some catatonic state a Fable might enter, unwittingly, without ever leaving the physical realm. But Harpsichord knows she has fallen entirely out of her world, and that if there had been anyone around to see it, they would have witnessed her vanishing like a popped bubble.

When you get to the bottom, you have to climb.

Only now can she see, looking upwards, a little dot of color above. It is no bigger than her hoof. That is her target, the world she has come from. There's a lot of ground to cover this time.

Sometimes you're lucky; the fall concludes very quickly, and you only have to trudge through the drifts of void-snow a few meters. This is the deepest Harpsichord has ever fallen, personally, though she brushes away the memory of a Fable who fell so far, he had to climb for one day and one night to reach the world again.

I'm sure he was exaggerating... the thought trails away again, uncomfortably. The void gives back what it takes when you reach the threshold. Only then do you realize how many redundant thoughts have crossed your mind. The relief of escaping keeps you from minding it very much.

Harpsichord's limbs move with some difficulty through the sloping substance. It has made a path for her, she knows, which she can follow straight upwards to the exit.

Hope it's not too steep. She grits her teeth, and walks.

[alphanea]

prompt: tapestry
fable: alopex - he is in his humanoid (satyr) form for this prompt.
entry: [515 words]



"what the - ?!"

xxxxxJust a second ago, the golden engraved mirror was sitting smugly within Alopex's satchel, he was sure of it. another thing he was sure of was the shadowy figure in his peripheral, now making a dash towards the alleyways, had something extra shiny within its hand.

xxxxxgreat. today was meant to be a day of relaxation. serves me right for bringing such a treasure out into the open, he ponders sullenly.

xxxxxfor once being the one to give chase rather than the other way around, Alopex bounded behind the mystery thief, his fleet feet carrying him forwards with no problem. that thief had chosen the wrong fable to mess with - huh? as soon as Alopex rounded the corner into an odd hallway, he skidded to a halt. something was... off about this place. he could sense magic, interwoven into the very fabric of this place, his ears perking up the fable tensed.

xxxxxa careful hand extended towards the nearest of the textile - only to be cut short before sharpened nails could trace the lively designs, as his keen eyes spotted an oddity. like the waves of a disturbed puddle of water, there it was, the faintest of ripples through the surface, as if something had plunged right through it. and Alopex couldn't be more right. amidst the silken threads forming the vauge shapes of trees and foliage within a lush forest, there is a curious shape clad in dark. the small shape moved before Alopex's eyes and shrunk until it became but a darkened speck.

xxxxxhow curious... perhaps this wasn't an everyday robbery as he had once suspected. the ellaborate pathway, the choice of victim and the stolen trinket... was someone trying to get Alopex's attention? was this another ploy from his enemies to draw him into a trap? the fable sighed. if this was his innate paranoia and self-importance manifesting yet again or not, he wouldn't know until he stepped into the magical door.

xxxxxthe mirror, oh his poor mirror, within the pockets of a ruffian, a hired thug... how the image alone filled the usually level-headed Alopex with anger. meanwhile his instincts of prey warned him against the obvious set-up. yet another glorious trickery to capture his most sought out ability, the one that Alopex was determined to keep to himself no matter the cost.

xxxxx"oh well... not the strangest thing i've done this week." he finally decided with his nonchallant attitude persisting throughout. with that, he plunged his hand into the tapastery, pleased to find that it passed through with no trouble, his fingers still wiggling properly as he pulled them back to his side of the disguised portal. "hopefully whatever... this is... will be over before brunch time. my date will be so ticked if i'm late again ugh..." the flamboyant man huffed with an indignant raise of his chin, taking one last look towards his surroundings before taking the plunge into the unknown, this time with his whole being.

"i'm coming for you, you son of a biscuit-eater! you better know how to run because i sure do!"



prompt: void
fable: imogen, vaugly alluding to grimshire's ritual
entry:


one second imogen was within the constrains of their realm, the underworld, just frolicking through the lovely fields of magma then the next, they found themselves floating through the time and space, pulled towards a destination marked with... the light of otherworldly green candles.

...is that a summoning circle? ...

[♔Voltaire♔]

prompt: void
fable: Hiraya
entry: [1004]

Every night began with the same, static routine; one Hiraya could never say he did not delight in.

His fingers entwine in the soft, verdant hanging vines before him, peeling them away to allow his entry through the tangled vegetation and along the downtrodden deer trail once more. Each night is the same, though Hiraya always observes something new and out of the ordinary, traversing the same routes and delighting in the inevitable hints of time's passage in the scenery around him. As the Lord of the Fireflies, it is his duty to oversee the health and steady evolution of the forest, not just for the biodiversity nestled in its embrace, but for himself as well; after all, without a location for fireflies to reside, Hiraya would cease to exist.

He always finds himself entranced by the forest he calls his home, taking the time to observe any minute changes to the landscape and file them away in his memory for the next stroll. To many who carried his title before him, paying close attention to every minute change and altered detail of the forest was as tedious as it was torturous; but to Hiraya, change meant progress. Change meant that time was doing as it must, claiming the old and replacing once lost with something both vibrant and new.

So, when Hiraya noticed the change in the way the sunlight filters through the canopies, he was both curious and excited, eager to understand what changes to the foliage above warranted such a shift. Though, despite close inspection, he couldn't seem to find a logical reason as to why certain locations seemed much... darker than usual. Surely it wasn't the season, or the time of day altering the casting of sunlight; so what could it be? Ah, no matter, maybe tomorrow will bear more fruit for his research. So, on his patrol the next day, he comes across the same situation in the same location, though the shadows seemed to have broadened in their expanse. The light between the fireflies has even become almost desolate and foreboding, a pit of concern settling into the pit of Hiraya's stomach.

The next few nights, the forest suffers the same symptoms, until the looming shadows become too much of a concern for Hiraya to feel comfortable researching from afar. He takes a leap of faith, gathering his wits and approaching a darkened area off the beaten path he's become so familiar with. With cautious steps, he approaches the seemingly endless pit of black before him, but before he can fully register his next move, he's tumbling into the pit of nothingness, swallowed by the endless black void of nothingness.

When he comes to, he isn't even sure if his eyes are open, his fingers brushing against his lids to physically ensure they are. Everywhere he attempts to look, he is met with the endless terror of darkness, panic settling in his gut and festering like a wildfire. He scrambles to his feet, heartbeat in his ears as he frantically whirls around in place, squinting as if it could help him see something, anything, that may bring with it the promise of escape. He finds himself too panicked to think rationally, crumpling to a heap where he once stood.

It feels as if hours have passed, the thrumming of Hiraya's heartbeat in his ears unrelenting. It becomes clearer to him, the more time passes, that he has found himself trapped in a void. He's heard tales of void infestations from his late father, though he wasn't expecting to ever come across one in his lifetime, the amalgamations usually far and few. However, here he is, submerged in never-ending darkness with not a hint of how to rescue himself from its depths. He takes a long while to gather his bearings, collect his wits, and try to come up with a solution, taking another chance to scan the pitch black to see if he can find any light source. Still with no luck, he cannot seem to find any sort of opening or vulnerability in the void, sighing deeply and returning to square one.

He attempts to wander in one direction for a short period of time, and then another way, and then the next. He reaches out before him to see if he can feel anything in the never-ending nothingness to no avail. He tries to run in one direction, tries to feel around for maybe a light source, anything- but no matter what he tries, he cannot for the life of him figure out a way to get out! After all, it isn't like he can just CREATE fireflies that can lead him home.

Oh.

Common sense has never come easily for Hiraya.

He sighs, smacking himself dully upside the head before closing his eyes and allowing for the soft, yellow glow of fireflies to filter out from his fingertips. He is the Lord of the Fireflies for a reason- and if there's one thing he knows about them, it is that they will find a way. They will always lead him home. Before long, he's surrounded by dozens of fireflies, the small insects beginning to blink softly into the black night. He follows close behind, his eyes focusing on their little flashes. Having some sort of light source, something familiar, brings Hiraya's heart peace and a sense of hope that only grows stronger the further he follows the small insects into the void. It isn't long before he catches a glimpse of what seems to be starlight far off in the distance, his heart soaring as he sprints to reach the light. He gets closer and closer, his hand extending to touch it, before his vision darkens again.

Though this time when his eyes open, he's met with the dull green of forest shrubbery, the rustle of leaves, and the ever-present glow of the fireflies. Through sheer luck from the blessing bestowed upon him by his ancestors, Hiraya survived his first void- and hopefully his last.

[elderling]

prompt: tapestry
fable: Wonder
entry: 4,201 I went way overboard, i'm so sorry ;w; (It was just too inspiring)

[Butter Dragon]

prompt: tapestry
fable: O'roq
entry: [word count: 684]

It would’ve been foolish to step forward. Whatever magic inundated the surface of this art was entirely foreign to him, and for all he knew incredibly dangerous or a trap. But… if he didn’t follow, what then? Visions of endless nights kept awake by the question of “why” or “how” flashed across the young deity’s mind. His curiosity would eat him alive, even if he were able to face Winter’s anger for allowing their precious gift to be stolen by some petty street pickpocket. Paralyzed by indecision he simply stared, watching the stranger disappear further into the woven landscape before him which only now did he take the time to properly examine. It looked almost familiar. Almost. A vibrant forest, little creatures hidden all throughout the brush, the trees simultaneously reaching up into the atmosphere while also lowering their bows to touch the fertile ground. Foot prints were all that was left by the time O’roq could finally shake his confusion enough to make a decision.

Was he not an adventurer? A wanderer? His entire life was defined by his trek across the lands, why should some unknown scenery give him such pause? Determining that whatever magic lay before him was likely no more than some sort of portal into the place depicted, he stilled his heart, held his breath, and stepped into the wobbling surface.

O’roq’s skin tingled as he took his first step. His heart began pounding and anxiety rising, though which caused the other he could not tell. Trying to move forward felt almost impossible, a simple step forward making it feel like his bones were moving but leaving his skin stuck behind. The deity’s human form warped and struggled to maintain the unnatural shape as he continued. His muscles tensed, attempting to push through despite the alien discomfort. If some random mortal could do it then it should be no match for a deity.

In a moment the universe seemed to remember where he was and all at once it felt like his body was shunted into a wall as he stumbled out, four legged, fur tussled, into the clearing of the woods from the tapestry. It was so… familiar… like a memory of a memory, one he could feel very strongly yet could not hold onto long enough to figure out why. Turning his attention to the mission at hand instead, O’roq closed his eyes and stood still still as a statue, trying to listen for the sound of the thief’s footsteps but all that met him were the wind rustling the tree bows, insects chirping, and birds welcoming him to the woods. He hadn’t waited that long, had he? Certainly this stranger couldn’t have gone far.

With no direct path O’roq simply pressed forward, taking his first gentle step into this strange place. But he didn’t get far before the sound of a crack broke though the otherwise serene noises of the forest, his hoof weighing down upon something hard. Lifting his hoof he returned to his bipedal appearance, getting to his knees and grabbing the locket he had pushed deep into the dirt. His locket, his now cracked locket.

Brushing the dirt off with his thumb, the man’s brow furrowed. Had the thief dropped it out of fear? Had they realized they’d even dropped it? Perhaps more hauntingly, had they never wanted it in the first place - but instead wanted O’roq to simply follow. As much as he wanted to shake it off, simply say he got what he came for and return to the town he had exited, as he turned to do so he realized one small problem. No such tapestry was here in the woods, nor did the air seem penetrated by any magic of the sort in the area he’d stepped out into. There was more of a mystery here to solve, of the nature of this forest, and whoever he’d followed in. And whether he wished to or not, it seemed he was going to have to get to the bottom of it…

Hopefully Winter wouldn’t begrudge him being slightly late…

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

prompt: void
fable: Timor (feat. Nothing)
entry: [word count: 556]

It was like the road simply stopped. Not just the road though. The rock, the shrubs, the sky itself. In its place was a fluctuating darkness. A certain ball of nothingness that didn’t even want to process as proper space in Timor’s eyes. Every time he blinked he had to readjust, his mind attempting to cut out that part of the scenery or lack there of all together to save his sanity. But he could see it. It was there. Whatever it was… or wasn’t.

Many might assume that the deity of fear would not be ruled by his own domain, that he would be impervious to that sort of deep rooted anxiety. Numbed, perhaps, but the Fable knew all too well that he was not immune. And this was one of those moments where he felt his own domain more deeply than he was comfortable with. But looking at this void of everything his hair stood up and a shiver ran down his spine.

“I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

A blunt voice said from behind him, causing a panicked turn to see who was there. The face was blurry, like his mind was trying to not even acknowledge the other’s existence despite staring right at them. But their form informed him of one thing at least - this was another deity, though one he was unfamiliar with. Timor planted his back foot, unsure if this void was something that he might be able to fall or rather be pushed into.

"Did you do this?"

His voice was quieter than the other, yet outwardly calm, his panic dulling to more of a curious confusion. As he awaited the response he could help but blink, squint, trying to make the face of the other more clear yet nothing seemed to help.

There was a longer silence than he would've wished for, making the anxiety begin to rise in his chest once again. Who was this entity? Or maybe even what? Was he too fast to jump to the conclusion of them being kin? Was this some malevolent shapeshifter echoing his form in some distorted way? As the thoughts raced through his mind suddenly the other's face came into focus. In a snap, as if he'd been able to see it the entire time. Staring back at him was a monochromatic fable, tinges of blue along his snout, mismatched features, piercing eyes. But one thing stood out to him. The other seemed... Intrigued. Not confused, as Timor himself was, but... tempted.

Breaking the pause that had gone on far longer than likely either of them intended, the stranger spoke once again. Not as stern as before, not as jaded, but keeping their distance between them still.

"I did... And I also didn't. Erasure isn't an act of doing so much as undoing..."

The monochrome stranger shifted, taking a few steps forward, their three wings tucked tightly on either side. Timor felt the urge to step backwards, but stayed his ground, instead waiting until the other finally stopped their approach only a few steps away. The other sighed, a look of forlorn crossing their face before immediately being hidden again by their stoic expression.

"It was nice to see you again, Timor. Perhaps next time the circumstances will be such that I can permit you to remember."

[ylesia]

prompt: void
fable: Nimue + "Devon" (NPC)
entry: [~1400 words]

---The Deadwood was as dead as usual and Nimue was engaged in small talk with the spirit of a fable that passed away long before she was born. This fable didn't remember his name and Nimue decided to call him "Devon". She thought that Devon was a cute name and the now named Devon had agreed. It had been a very long time since someone talked to him and he had been following Nimue in the Deadwood over the past week.
Something about the Otherworld was still mysterious for her but she was determined to find out as much as possible. What seemed most strange to her was the fact that some deceased fables appeared back in Draeridia only after a long time since they passed while others never left it. Devon, for instance, was in the first category. Nimue had been asking him if he remembered anything of that period but it looked like he forgot everything, including his own name.

---Nimue stopped for a second to step over a fallen log and something caught her attention.
"Hey, Devon, can you see that shadow? What do you think it is casted by?" she asked the spirit.
Devon's voice was uncertain when he answered. He told her not to go there, but Nimue was already heading towards the weird shadow.
"Why?" she asked. "Do you remember anything?"
Devon said that he was not sure but he had a very bad feeling. Nimue stopped. She knew that spirits' feelings were not something to ignore. The Otherworld was at the very least a weird place and fables living (is "living" the correct word?) in that dimension were extremely sensitive. However, she was curious and kept moving towards the darkness. It looked like the shadow was not casted by anything. Of all weird things she has saw in the Deadwood that darkness was far beyond the definition of weirdness. Nonetheless she was not scared. Instead, she was curious and a shiver of excitement ran through her body.
Now that Nimue was closer she noticed that the shadow was extremely dark. Actually, all the shadows were dark. Nevertheless she was not bothered at all: that was the Deadwood and strange things happen in the Deadwood.
"Devon, where are you?" Nimue asked, turning around.
For a second she forgot that she could hear the spirits' voices but couldn't see them. She had no idea of how Devon's appearance looked like and she hadn't even asked him. Spirits couldn't see their body either and she knew that this was a taboo subject for many of them. And by the way he probably wouldn't have remembered that either.
Devon answered from her right side. He was probably just a few inches away from her. Nimue touched the shadow with a hoof and what happened stroke her as a complete surprise. Her hoof disappeared.
"Devon! Can you see?" she asked, withdrawing the leg. Her hoof was still there.
"This is... this is amazing!" she screamed, jumping around, unable to contain her excitement. That was the void!

---Nimue had a theory but she had no proof about it: she thought that the Otherworld was certainly another dimension, but it was much more complex than it seemed. In particular she thought that spirits in the Otherworld required energy to live in Draeridia and she was not sure of where that energy came from. She was quite sure that it came from Draeridia itself and that was the reason why the Deadwood was, well, dead. However she couldn't understand where energy came from now. The Deadwood was dead indeed so the energy had to come from somewhere else. The void was the logical step after death and now she had a proof for her theory: The Deadwood was becoming a "Voidwood"! As soon as her excitement subsided she stopped to ponder on the implications. It didn't should like good news after all. Not at all.
She went closer to the void and tested it again with her hoof. This time, however, she lost her balance and her hoof slipped on... nothing. She fell in the void, screaming.

---She fell and fell and fell.

---"Nimue, I'm here!" Devon's voice said in the distance. Nimue was spinning and she didn't know where the top and the bottom were. Was there a top and a bottom? While spinning she saw a figure above her. Or below... she couldn't see it clearly, it was just a fuzzy figure. It was screaming something and that voice was familiar... wait! It was Devon! Devon's body! This was... weird. She could see a spirit, did it mean she was dead? No, that was nonsense. Spirits couldn't see their bodies or other spirits' bodies. The only explanation was that she was in the Otherworld. So the void was part of the Otherworld. All that thinking was giving her a headache. Suddenly she stopped falling. It was abrupt: the second one first was falling and then no longer. She could feel something solid under her hooves but there was nothing. There was just darkness.
"Are you alright?" Devon asked behind her.
She turned. The fable was standing there on nothing. There were no shadows and he looked flat. And handsome, he was so handsome. He was looking at her with his head tilted and an apprehensive glance.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine" she said, staring at him.
He turned his head around, nodding.
"I know this place" he said.
Nimue came up to him. "I can see you" she said.
Devon pricked up his ears with a quiver. "Really?" he said, smiling.
Then he began trotting around her in a circle. "Can you still see me?" he asked.
"Yes" Nimue answered, laughing.
Then, suddenly they became serious again: they had to find out how to go back to Drearidia. Well, Nimue had to find a way to go back.
"I know this place, I came here after... well, when I was dead" Devon said.
"And how did you get out of here?" Nimue asked fighting the urge to pester him with questions about that period.
"I'm not sure... it just happened. I remember that I was thinking about my herd, they believed in me and I... I betrayed their trust." Devon stopped talking abruptly. He was on the verge of bursting into tears. Nimue moved closer to him and posed her head on his shoulder.
"I'm sure they have forgiven you" she said.
Devon sighted, shaking his head. "No" he said. "And you should hate me as well... I... I am..."
"Stop" Nimue said. "Whatever you did, it happened a long time ago. It doesn't matter now".
"It does", Devon replied, as cold as ice.
Nimue didn't know how to reply. How could something he did when he was alive matter now? Regret is a dangerous creature, she thought. They both sad down, curled next to each other. Devon began to cry silently while Nimue tried to confort him with her presence. After a while they fell asleep.

---When Nimue woke up the first thing she noticed was that there was a lot of light. Devon was still there, his head posed on her front legs. She looked around her. It was a familiar place. It was the Deadwood! To be precise it was the exact place where they had found the void. Now everything was back to normal: the shadows were just shadows and there was no void in sight.
"Devon! Wake up!" Nimue said, standing up, regardless of Devon's head.
The fable looked around him, confused. "We are back" he said. There was sadness in his voice.
"We are back!" Nimue screamed, trotting around him as he had done not long before.
"We are back!" she said again.
"And I'm more pathetic then before. It was better when I couldn't remember the terrible things I did" he said.
"I can see you Devon!" Nimue said, looking him steadily in the eyes.
Devon tried to say something but his voice broke. He stood up, approaching her.
"You... can you see me?" he asked.
Nimue nodded, posing her head on his shoulder. "And I can touch you, Devon" she said.
Devon sniffed the air around him and darted his tongue tasting the moisture of the swamp.
"They let me come back" he said.
"They who?" Nimue asked backing away a couple of steps so that she could look him in the eyes.
"Regret, that's how we got out of there. It was... a punishment. For me. They shouldn't have pulled you in, they... oh" he said, ignoring her question. "Now I understand".
Nimue was looking confusingly at him.
"My name is not Devon" he said, a smile plastered on the face.

[Melonbread]

prompt: tapestry
fable: Liujin (+snake)
entry: [word count: 1411]

“We are not going in.”

The snake coiled its way up and around to peer over Liujin’s shoulder. “Why not?”

Liujin’s ears pinned flat. “Look at it. What even is that?”

“It is a tapestry, I think.”

“Of course it’s a tapestry, I mean—” Liujin snorted, her breath fluttering against the heavy cloth. “It’s old magic. And I value our hide.”

“Old magic saved our hides,” the snake pointed out, rather politely.

“That—” Liujin shivered. “If we go in we might never come back. We can make the money back. It’s not worth risking our lives over.” She took a step back from the tapestry. Aggravating to lose out on the dinner that she’s been so looking forward to, and it did hurt her pride to let a thief go, but….

The snake was quiet for a moment, as if pondering her words. It did that a lot, both then and now. “Okay,” it said, at last, in its whispery, paper-dry voice. “But our library pass was in that purse.”

—

It was a strange scene that the tapestry depicted. A wide, round space, like a very shallow bowl, woven in subtle shades of slate grey and ashy dark, under a twilight sky. Two enormous obelisks flanked the bowl, their details picked out in obsidian and silver thread. To the east, a tower of dark stone, engraved ornately with motifs of wings, starlight glittering over each carved plume, its base overflowing with clouds of white flowers. To the west, a tower of pale stone, smoothly white and unadorned, barren of ornamentation in sharp contrast to its eastern counterpart, entwined with black, withered vines. Between them was a third structure, on the far edge of the bowl—a third obelisk, judging by the shape, but broken beyond recognition. The whole of the bowl was ringed with columns, the light washing over their edges threaded delicately in misty lavender-grey.

Liujin’s entire body shuddered as her hooves touched that strange ground. It was stone beneath her feet, as solid and cold as stone should be, anyway, but when she looked too closely the light seemed to resolve into innumerable tiny threads, shimmering slightly under the woven twilight. She turned to look over her shoulder, at the rather tapestry-shaped rift hanging in the space behind her, and then up, at a bright and moonless sky.

“Liujin,” the snake piped up, “your fur is standing on end.”

“We shouldn’t be here.” A feeling of unease coiled cold and tight around Liujin’s ribs. The air was perfectly silent and still. Not even a breeze stirred the dark, sparsely-leaved vines that crept around the columns. Their very breath felt like an intrusion. Nothing in this world moved… nothing, except for the shadow of the thief scampering across the expanse of stone away from them.

“You little….” Every other thought in Liujin’s mind evaporated as she set eyes on that rapidly retreating tail. She leapt down the gently-sloping stone, muttering centuries-old curses under her breath. Her horn flashed to life as she ran.

Ahead, the thief had stopped, resting back on their haunches, entire body heaving as if desperately out of breath. They lifted the purse to triumphantly admire their prize. It was a simple thing of plain cloth clasped in iron, with a few things tied to it for quick access—a string of thin bronze coins, and a slip of creamy shell-wood inked with the glimmering green sigil of the Academy library.

A liquid flicker, like moonlight over water, and the sword materialized. The clatter of Liujin’s hooves should have been louder, but her footsteps were dull, as if trodding on crushed velvet instead of stone, just soft enough to be obscured by the thief’s heavy breaths until she had more than halfway closed the gap.

Liujin saw the thief’s ear flick, the purse drop, as they leapt, spinning, to their feet. “Tsk.” She cursed once more under her breath. She’d been hoping to have the element of surprise. It would have been faster that way, less trouble—dishonorable, maybe, but who gave a damn when no one was watching? She should have slowed her steps, snuck up on her quarry.

“W-who are you?” The thief’s voice was shaky. There was a strange and wild look in their eyes. Desperation, Liujin thought. She had seen that expression before in the faces of debtors and street mongrels. “Why would you come here?”

“You’ve got something of ours,” Liujin hissed, low and rough—she’d been getting good at that ever since she’d met the snake. “I’ve been looking forward to a cold drink and some of those skewers they sell down by the docks. And my friend has been working really hard to pursue an education, you know?” One step forward, then another. The sword pulled back ever so slowly, readying to swing.

“You, you—” The thief squinted, still shaking in a way that made Liujin uneasy. Liujin pricked her ears as they began to mumble to themself. “The beads..? No, too small, surely… some new method in the thread maybe, or hidden… there’s nowhere to put it, is there? An illusion? But….”

Liujin eyed the purse laying on the ground between their feet. She took one step. The thief did not seem to notice. Another. A quick hop, a gathering of strength, and Liujin surged forward. Shouldn’t have let us into sword range, you—

The thief’s eyes suddenly snapped to Liujin, and they reared back. There was a glint of metal beneath the long, tousled fur around their neck—a gorget? Too late to adjust. The sword struck in a ringing shriek of metal on metal, followed by a crisp crack. Liujin leapt nimbly back, sword repositioning in an arc for a second strike… and then she paused.

“Wait wait wait wait wait wait.” The thief was scrambling around on the ground now, voice somehow even more frantic than before, pitchy and hyperventilating. “That was the wrong—wait, that wasn’t supposed to—” With shaking hooves they scrambled together shards of dull glass that had fallen to the floor. “That’s—but it said that if—” There was foam flecking the corners of their mouth now, and a ragged, phlegmy sound to their breathing.

The thief staggered, once. Twice. They slumped, the object clattering from their neck in a pile of twisted, hammered metal and glassy jewels. Their lips parted, whispered in a voice that was suddenly clear. “They say mages of eld once dreamed of ruin, and wove realms of their own upon their walls. They say… if one can….” The thief trailed off, and fell limp.

Silence. Stillness. Back to the tapestry’s natural state. Liujin stared at the crumpled form sprawled upon the stone, legs tense, fur prickling.

It took a minute for the snake to pipe up. “Liujin,” it began. “I think we just killed that guy.”

“Yeah.” Liujin gingerly step-hopped forward, carefully avoiding so much as brushing the body with her foot. She leaned down, and picked up the purse.

“What was it wearing?”

“Dunno.” Liujin turned. “Not going to find out.”

“We might be able to sell it?” There was a bright, curious sort of note to the snake’s voice. It was probably hoping that it would be able to convince Liujin to keep it if she picked it up.

“Nope.” There were two intruders left disturbing the tapestry's perfect stillness. Or perhaps one, given they more or less shared the same body. Liujin broke into a headlong sprint as soon as she was sure her grasp on the purse was secure. She was not about to find out what would happen to either of them if they stayed.

Liujin leapt through the tapestry-window in a clattering mess of hooves on stone—real stone—, heart pounding in her ears. Her ears pricked, taking in the sounds of the city—the wind, the distant crowd, the calls of seabirds high above—almost deafening after the sheer silence of the tapestry—and leaned against the nearest wall, heaving a sigh of relief.

“Oh,” the snake said.

Liujin looked behind her, following its gaze. The tapestry seemed much the same as when they had first laid eyes upon it, save for one addition: a distant, dark shape laying upon the stone. The body of the strange thief. A shudder passed down Liujin’s spine, and into the snake’s.

Liujin pushed herself off the wall, hurrying to get around the corner and toward the sunlit streets. “Next time someone picks our pocket, just bite them.”

“You said that would get us in trouble if anyone saw.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

[mars]

prompt: tapestry
fable: npcs, although I'd like to attach their characters to real fables someday <3
entry: [1,243 words]



People-watching had become one of Eulalia’s favorite pastimes, and this day was no different as the mythical woman cloaked herself in magic to mingle among a busy marketplace. She enjoyed studying humans and their habits, watching their short lives pass by almost as if they were ants in a cage. Life in the marshlands was becoming dull after all — hundreds of years of the same days repeating was making her crave a little bit of excitement, which she now sought by seeing her beloved people up close, something she had been too scared to do until recent years.

The hustle and bustle of the street put her senses on high alert, but it wasn’t enough for her to notice the figure sneaking up behind her as she watched the townsfolk intently.

Before she knew it, someone — something — had seen through her spell and snatched her beloved floral crown off her head before dashing off in a blur. Eulalia was frozen in place, dazed for a brief moment as her mind raced to process what had just happened. Not a single soul was supposed to be able to witness her presence. How had she been spotted? Only the gods above had the power to see all, but the mortal realm was far beneath their high peaks and lofty towers. Had the spell broken in a momentary lapse of judgement? No, surely...

Eulalia's mind snapped back to her body in an instant as she felt the absence of her crown. It had been made of violets, woven long ago by her mother for her young daughter and kept alive with magic. At that moment, Eulalia made the decision to hurry after the mysterious figure to retrieve her stolen object.

She ran blindly through the crowd, dodging people left and right as they sold their wares. The woman thought that she could barely make out a shadow turning a bend ahead. One corner led to another, and the brick walls and busy stalls around her began to feel like a never-ending maze. Were they becoming more narrow with every step? Rounding each corner, Eulalia was reaching, pleading in desperation… but it felt as though she could never get close enough. The figure was always just beyond her reach and her eyes never seemed to be able to focus to clearly make out their appearance.

The anger began to set in. She had been certain that not a single soul within the mortal realm could see through her spell, but someone had, and they had stolen the only possession she even cared about on this entire planet. Perhaps she was wrong about her understanding of magic, like a feeble human trying to understand the complexities of the world. She wasn’t sure what she would do without this crown. It was a symbol of her power, her dynasty. How dare someone take it away from her, even if they were a god?

It was with these thoughts hanging heavy in her mind that she realized she had been led into the stone doorway of a shop. Had this place always been here? Eulalia couldn’t remember. The walls were draped in elegant weavings and textiles made of linen, with a worn, wooden loom resting in one corner. Her eyes flicked back and forth anxiously as she searched for the perpetrator. The woman thought she could make out the faint shape of a tail as it slipped into one of the tapestries. What…?

Looking closer, it was an ethereal scene, olive leaves dotting the canvas with marble pillars and a statue standing delicately in between. The colors of the sky during sunset rippled like water, and the art had a warmth and glow to it as if it was inviting her inside. It felt hauntingly real and beautiful beyond measure. Was this created by human hands? No… Could it be a portal to another realm?

Hesitantly, Eulalia bit her lip, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes as she leaned into the art. One… two… three…

There was no impact as she fell forward. The woman opened her eyes slowly to witness the grand scene that now surrounded her. Water danced in the distance with the reflections of sunlight. Flowers bloomed in plants near her feet. Everything had a sense of familiarity and calmness to it as she released her breath slowly into the evening air. What was this feeling?

Standing to the side in the evening glow stood the mysterious figure dressed in silk robes, its arm outstretched to return the prized possession to its rightful owner. Eulalia could barely make out the tail she had seen earlier beneath the fabric. This was definitely not a human.
“I knew you’d follow me here if I borrowed this. Sorry about that.”

Its voice was bold, yet sweeter than honey in a way that could convince anyone it was telling the truth… if it wasn’t for the mischievous smile spread across its face. Eulalia narrowed her eyes in suspicion before snatching the floral crown away, taking a nervous step backwards to keep her distance after her beloved heirloom was safe again within her grasp.
“Hey, hey. Calm down,” it said quickly, noticing her uneasiness. “I brought you here because I was hoping that we could come to some sort of deal.” Eulalia’s eyebrows raised in confusion.
“...Deal?”

The creature hummed as if it was content with her curiosity.
“I ran into a bit of a sticky situation and thought you might be able to help me out. In a mutually beneficial way, of course,” it began. “You live alongside humanity, correct? Unlike most of us who view them… unfavorably.” The creature reached up slowly and slipped its robes down, revealing a set of ears and colorful eyes. It appeared to be another mythical Fable just like herself.

Eulalia’s eyes lit up with disbelief, a silent gasp creeping along her lips as her jaw fell. Her mind was lit ablaze with a thousand questions. She was certain that she was the only one of her kind here, but even then, no one was supposed to be able to see this land with her protection spells. What had happened? Why hadn’t it worked on the thief?

“Listen…we’re safe within this realm for now, but we won’t be alone here for long,” the figure continued, glancing nervously over its shoulder. “The Symmoría discovered your existence on their turf and it’s causing quite a stir.” Eulalia could hear a hint of anxiety and urgency in the mysterious Fable’s voice as its smile faded, a more serious expression overcoming its face. It seemed to be no stranger to magic which was intriguing - did all Fables have this ability, too? - but it was now clear that this situation was far more serious than Eulalia had initially thought.
“At least tell me who I’m making a deal with first.” She was hesitant, but knew this mysterious thief was probably telling a partial truth at minimum. She had nothing else to prove otherwise, and at least she had her precious crown back.

“My name is Philouméne of Hyele, daughter of Pyroeis,” the thief exclaimed proudly before bowing, lowering herself to one knee. “O Eulalia, daughter of Gaia, I offer you my knowledge of swordplay and trickery in exchange for sanctuary.” With that, the stranger’s smile returned as she looked up, locking firm eyes with Eulalia. “We must not let them find us here.”

[TheSongOfTheStars]

prompt: void
fable: Titan
entry: 1,108