[Unleashed Squiid]

Username: Unleashed Squid

Memories of the Figure (Part One)
Memories of Creation (Part Two)









"A memory is a strange place to be. It is caught between that fuzzy line of how things are and how they were. It is an image of a different time, one you can almost touch and feel but never quite relive the same way." Amelia spoke softly. Her voice sounded tired from singing, and her posture began to slump. "I could spend days explaining it to you, but it would never be enough." She knew the curiosity which lay deep in your bones, that you wished for an explanation. A reason. "If you're sure you want this, touch the pond."

The bottom of the water is lined with the same smoothed stones and rose petals as before. Amelia promised that this time, it will be different. Your fingertips stroked the surface of the pool, but before you could see ripples form on the broken surface, you were thrown out of this world, this life, and sent somewhere far away. Everything seemed duller, and the place where you stood is cold. Lifeless trees and ragged grasses swayed through the sharp wind, but nothing was alive there, at least not at first glance. Looking closer, you spied a tiny kalon lying on the ground, and you could almost feel her pain. You realized she must have been here a while, but there is no trace of how she arrived.

Although it was a pitiful sight, you knew that there must be more than this. The child was nearly unrecognizable with her soft, pastel face covered in thick mud and hardened clay, and the weight of the earthly materials paired with the chill of the night must have taken its toll, for she showed no signs of rising. There was little hope for her survival if something didn't happen soon. But then something did happen, something did save her. Something which was magical.

A tiny, glowing sprout spun in the breeze. It landed on the child's weak back, and for a moment, all was quiet. But then everything seemed to change at once, as if a new breath of life was released over the entire world. Second by second, the trees perked up, and the grasses’ color shifted into a verdant spectrum. Then another sprout fell upon the kalon's back, then another and another, until they layered the top of her spine. The tree trunks began to germinate new stems and budding leaves, and some began to grow flowers. The grass became healthy, and more life – bushes, roses, vines – began to pop up from the dead earth.

This process spread until the forest was alive again, drawing from the kalon’s little, but ever-remaining life. Then something even greater happened. The resurrected land began to push its new strength and power back into her, pulsing life and energy into her weary bones, adding life-saving weight to her dangerously skinny form, and making her healthy once again. After a few moments, the little kalon opened her large, deer-like eyes. For the first few moments of sight, it appeared as if she was staring at something more than just a forest. She looked in starstruck awe at something greater than that; a hero, perhaps.





As warmth gathered in your heart from that scene, you were transported once again to Amelia, to how things are. Doing nothing but staring into the rose-filled pond. Spending time in her forest. Her beautiful prison. No wonder she was trapped for so long. No wonder.

Amelia looked into the pond, gazing into her reflected eyes. "Is this really all I am?" she whispered. "A guardian? Was I meant to be alone all this time? I touch the water to see where I have been and who I am, but there is never anything more. Who will I be one day? Am I doomed to be here forever? My reflection always shows something different than me when I look into this pool." She seemed sad, haunted by memories, guilt, and worry. "I can leave my reflection behind, but all this time when I have looked into this pool, wishing for escape, it stays here, waiting for me to return."



Amelia's reflection gazed into her eyes as she gazed back. Then a voice spoke; a being without lips or breath. You were never alone, Amelia. Something was so familiar about it, yet also so foreign. You began to realize the complete separation of the two beings: the protector and her reflection.

Were they really ever the same? Could it be possible that the kalon in the pond was a different Amelia? One with the same face and the same power-flowing sprouts on her back, but with a different life? The reflection seemed to guide the past, and it spent its days inside the pond. However, Amelia guarded everything that would come in the future. Her eyes grew wide. Her mouth opened, as some magical idea developed in her mind. An epiphany.

The kalon breathed sharply, her mouth ajar and her thoughts racing. If her reflection stayed in this pond, if it remained here guarding the forest, then Amelia had no obligations to remain. Was this what it had been trying to say all along, that Amelia's prison was no more than a figment of her imagination? Even though she had saved the forest's life and the forest returned the favor, it wouldn’t perish if her reflection stayed. Her image would always be there to restore harmony.

Now a new song rang through the trees. Amelia's voice was louder than ever before, and you found yourself face to face with an excited grin. "Thank you," she whispered before racing away, far into the grass outside the forest. The wind swayed in her hair, and she reveled in the new scents and textures of the unfamiliar yet beautiful world. At long last, Amelia finally sang a new song, one with more power and confidence than any she had sang before. With the world at her fingertips, Amelia sang the song of freedom.

[1000/1000 words]

[_silentsiren_]

Done by me!

Username:
_silentsiren_
First + Second Round Link:
first & second

"I will share with you, a piece of my past, which I believed was buried deep as the roots as the white oaks that grow around here." She spoke quietly, a mist forming and engulfing her until there was nothing but the bioluminescence left behind. Soon it was changing, the light was moving, as if they were... fireflies. When the fog cleared, in the meadow sat a Kit on her haunches, crying and pleading to understand why no one desired to love her when she wished to love others. She let out a quiet whimper in fears of her step-mother hearing, the tiny Kit quickly wiped her tears and she began running back to her house with a pail of water in mouth.

The Kit was never given a name by her step-mother and was simply yelled at whenever she was to be called. She ran to and fro all day, sometimes earning the name, Oiseau laid, meaning ugly bird in French. It however was a name she was given and so she responded to it. She was sent to fetch yet another pail of water, it was in these times that she was granted time to herself. Her small pads carried her to the deep well, leaning forward to try and hook the bucket. With much success she lowered the bucket into the well, the small splash filling her ears. Soon it began to fill with the sounds of the forest, crickets and the like singing to her. A large smile filled her face as she began to wander deeper into the meadow until she came across a forest.
Her eyes skimmed the foliage line, unsure of how to react. She bit on her bottom lip and decided to take a chance. Soon, life began to fill her ears, the sounds of birds, crickets, and all other animals of the like. She stared up in wonder and amazement, from deep inside she heard the sound of a... harp...? Curious, she went further into the forest to investigate the noise.
"Hello...?" The frail kit called out, hoping someone would respond to her.
"Hello my name is... it's... Hana."
A soft chuckle came from the forest, as if the forest itself was speaking, "Hello there Hana, I am Mother Goddess but, you may call me Mother." The tender Kalon bit her lip and shuffled up nervously to the clearing, unsure of what to say next.
"Mother, why... why am I here?" She asked to the voice, hoping for an answer. "Why... Why was I left behind Mother?"
The forest had grown solemn and quiet, the noises stilling as a breath was taken. The trees bent inwards and it was as if the forest was truly alive and breathing.
"Hana, you are meant for greater things, things I cannot begin to tell you." Hana sat down and her ears drooped a little.
"But... why...? Why didn't my mother love me?" She asked quietly, the forest responding to her. "It was not a matter of love, it was a matter of life."
"Please! Tell me why no one loves me!" The little Kit was now shaking, her eyes welling with tears as her frame moved unsteadily.
"Why must everyone be so hateful to an ugly bird?" She whispered, curling into a ball to weep. A soft touch, a gentle hand grazed her pelt.
"Hana." The kit sat up quickly, the pounding of her heart filling her ears as she met the eyes of the golden woman who stood before her. "The most beautiful, are the most broken." She slowly engulfed the Kalon in her embrace, the warmth of spring filling her pelt as she felt what love truly was. The small Kit began to weep once more in the arms of Mother Goddess. "I love you Hana, and you have the ability to love others more than you know." She spoke softly to the kit, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
In an instant, she saw the secrets of the forest, the animals, the rivers, the sounds, as if they were being engraved in her mind at once. She was shared a fraction of what Mother Goddess knew.


"Please... Show me more."

----

Years later, the Kalon had grown to a considerable size yet, her feathers refused to grow in, leaving her in shambles. The teasing had gotten worse overtime, the step-siblings becoming more and more cruel. Until one day, she finally snapped and yelled at her sisters, starting a fire in her soul. She felt something deep within her she had never known, hatred.
She ran deep into the forest, sobbing quietly in the clearing she had known so fondly. Out of pure anger she began to tear up the earth, digging up roots, plants, and even destroying the homes of animals. A deep rumble came from within the ground, shaking her very soul.
"Hana, daughter of mine, thou hast betray me, taken from the innocent, and killed many." It took her seconds to realize what she had done, mortified of what she had wrought upon the Earth. "Until you learn to love even the unkindest of people, here you will remain." Hana had accepted her fate, a freezing winter enveloping the land until nothing but the forest was alive, making refuge and home to other animals.
She lowered her head, guilty of the crime she had committed against the Earth.
"Forgive me, Mother."
"You are forgiven, but first, you must learn to forgive yourself."

She spent months in solitude, the emptiness of her heart taking toll on her.
"There is certainly no one as unkind as I." It was then she was shown kindness from the animals of the forest. A small chipmunk had brought her a berry, and soon the whole forest began to bring her various items, her heart overcome with emotion, she began to cry, learning a valuable lesson.

To love another, you must first, learn to love yourself.
{991 words 5,328 characters}

{{ Congratulations to all the others who made it along side me! I'm so honored and I honestly had no idea that I would make it this far!
I was hell-bent on trying my hardest this time to really connect her to the forest, to help you guys understand why she was so indebted to the forest and willing to protect it. I wanted to also introduce why she had never felt loved or rather love before and it was fluid, as if I was feeling the same things as her. She's a beautiful Kalon and it was such a privilege to work alongside all of you!
It was such an honor to see you guys make such BEAUTIFUL forms and stories that were so well developed, I felt a piece of myself being invested into that creation you made of that Kalon.

You're all such talented writers and lovely people, please keep writing! Keep inspiring others! You are all so wonderful and it was a joy and my pleasure to work alongside you 4! Good luck and may your hearts guide you!!

-SilentSiren }}

[Kyar]

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❁Username:

Kyar
❁First + Second Round Link:

Step back to where the story begins…
Dwell on the recent events…
❁The Song:

INDENTTime ceases. Shrouding branches hang overhead, dancing vividly in the soft breeze that catches your own limbs, now wrought with thin, young leaves, budding flowers, floral life. The final stages, like a dream, passed over your form as you settled in, roots entangling with the whispering glow of each reaching sprig. With her.

INDENTHas it been hours? Days? No sunlight feeds your branches, no circadian cycle to guide the understanding of the world, of time, once so deeply ingrained. The impenetrable stillness of the glade, washed over with the strange everlasting glow of the plants you know now are far more than facets of the landscape. As you reach out, feeling consciousness flow through roots, tangling, mingling, stretching… you understand.

INDENTLife. All around you, every plant, every bush, shrub, tree, every tiny breath of life still exists, fully, fluidly, in this garden. Your sense of self, independence, fades as your story, your past, intermingle with hundreds of others. You see in flashes. An old woman through a windowpane, waving goodbye with a cracked, sweet smile both foreign and familiar. A dark-skinned man, laughing. Children, dancing in circles through the spray of a sprinkler, a shimmering rainbow of crystalline droplets forming a rainbow above their heads. Every memory, every moment of every individual now strung together in a chain, and endless line of stories, lives. Past and present. Future and now.

INDENTAnd her. You feel her, her breath, rising, as your leaves lift in the gentle wind. Your focus drifts away from the others, tunneling from the plants that surround you to the entity you feel now in every glowing sprout. Slowly, you sink into her own mind, her own consciousness, history, wants, hopes, dreams… they come in flashes. Memories. You feel her at your side, diving with you into the past.

INDENTFirst, a home. A brown, sodden, misshapen hovel of a home. Dirt-caked children, scampering wildly from stone to stone along the meager garden's wall. Sickly tomatoes, sparse green beans and gnarled carrots trying desperately to support a family that needed far more. A little boy. A little girl. Araddus. Idellia.

INDENTUnderstanding comes slowly. The young face, innocent and worn, joyous and pained, so different from the porcelain smile that led you here, the face you feel now has turned to the sky, remembering, as you do, these long-buried memories. So long ago… Idellia slips, foot plowing into a sinkhole of muck. Through her tears, Araddus grabs hold and tugs, freeing her with a grin. And they're gone.

INDENTFourteen. The number flashes, and you see him, older, rugged, proud. His face, still stained with dirt and despair but proud. Sharp features with gentle, protecting eyes. You feel them. Brilliant, glowing, there. Ever-present. Steadfast. The air of comfort encapsulates you, and for a time you are struck, vibrantly, by him. You feel a flutter in her heart, her heart now, as your roots tingle at her step. She's standing before him. Without eyes, you see it. The rose bush in the glass jar.

INDENTAnother memory. Fear rushes through you, the forest around you quaking in primal terror as you hear it first. Footsteps. Pounding, racing, crackling through the underbrush. Bloodied hands, legs, arms, dashing in a need to escape. A cry. Blood. The images, so vital and choking, so slippery, flash past in a hurricane of force, chaos. And through it, an image suddenly crashes forth. Blood. You look down at your legs—no. Her legs. Crushed, broken, below the joint. Shattered, fur, scattered. Unable to move. Unable to run. Run. Run.

INDENT"Araddus!" A voice choked in agony, lost in years, frantic in time. Flurries of images. Searching. And there. In the trees, between shaded throws of sunlight, it's him. Still fourteen. Still beautiful. Still safe. Hope rises, flooding, pouring, gushing as arms reach desperately for this one comfort, this one certainty. No family, no more. Just him. Just—

INDENTThe sound tears through the image, the memory, shredding the serenity of the woods and creatures, branches, limbs and leaves crackle overhead, snapping, constricting. You feel your roots writhe, the sound echoing unending. She falls to her knees, in this moment, and you hear… you hear her gasping, dying cry. You hear his name as he thrusts the dagger into her side. Once. Again. Again. His tears. Her cries. The forest collapsing around you, around them. Immeasurable pain. Heartbreak. Silence.

INDENTHot tears trickle to your roots. You feel her now, shaking at his side.

INDENT"You see," her voice cracks, sending a shiver down every branch of your newfound being, "what he has done."

INDENTThe ice in her words, the pain, all tugging weakly at the roots of your being. You feel her, you know her, you see, now, the scars that mar her side. The glass limbs built up, growing with plant life to replace that which was lost.

INDENT"I survive," she repeats, over, and over. "I survive."

INDENTA sound. New, soft. Rain. You feel the droplets as they curve, dance, weave through, trickle down the leaves above. They grace your own in the pain of the sky, running down her feathered tail into the grasses, into the dust. For a moment, only the sound of rain fills the forest.

INDENTThen you hear it. A tune, familiar, but not. An ancient melody, the song that enchanted your journey into the forest what feels now like ages ago, rising up from closed lips, humming in time with the rain. But now, something has changed. As you reach out to her, you feel not only the sound of the notes, the rhythm… but words. They rise from her throat, deeply embedded, so long lost, and carry through the clearing, each plant, every insect, silent for the performance of the woman in the woods.

INDENTAs the gentle touch of rain runs down your leaves, rests on still-budding flowers, drains to your roots, you extend again, consciousness gliding, spreading, to the edges of the garden, and you listen to the music, so sweetly hovering just overhead.


999/1000 words

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[iBrevity]

|| username ;; iBrevity ||

|| first round ;; here ||

|| second round ;; here ||






"" darling,
do you really think
I ate the fruit
unwillingly? ""

||what has she become? ||

There are some grateful people that talk of Sefina, and to her their gossip sounds like prayers. Women who Sefina has
offered a hand to; men that she has guided from the dark. They share stories with each other, of diverted crime, of
spared lives. They talk of the figure with glass legs, with a sharp smile and sharper eyes. They build her mythology and
spread her name, and a scared child on the coast of Greece whispers "Sefina, please," into the thin shadows of her room.

Sefina is in the right place at the right time. She comes from the trees and opens the child's window, and the glow of her
horns halos her face. She smiles with far too many teeth and she holds out a patient hand; and she says, "Did you call
for me, child?"

The stories spread. Her name goes like a sickness, from mouth to mouth, from eager hands. When she walks into the
woods people recognize her; when she comes to towns, to distant cities, they whisper while she walks past. Her
feathers are unmistakable, her bare feet, her proud jaw. She hears other names sometimes, the ones she remembers
from eons ago; Persephone, Prosperina, the maiden, the queen. She lets the people call her what they will, but when
she pulls someone from the grime, shows them to the safety of their home, she tells them to call her Sefina, and she
lets them touch her hands in blind worship.

She is known these days, in more places than she ever expected. People open their doors to her without fear and she
leaves behind flowers that will not die, rosebushes with too many thorns, trees that are heavy with fruit all year round.
She touches lives with careless fingers and leaves smears of godhood when she stays too long, but she gives nonetheless.
It reminds her of when she was a child, when she delivered to the villagers hardy crops, colorful blooms. She remembers
her mother's hand in her hair, her affectionate smile. Sefina looks at people and trades secrets for flowers and never
stays too long.

She walks the world underneath a network of trees, with deer at her heels and nightshade in her hair. Inevitably she
ends up somewhere she is needed, drawn to the dark and the demons that live there. She is comfortable in the shadows,
in the narrow back alleys; and she thinks of home when she finds her hands wet with blood, her arms sleeved with it.
She looks with fondness on what violence she accomplishes, the broken bones, the ruined lives. Sefina knows the
underworld, and she dispatches to it only the worst people she meets; but she kills when she must, and she leaves gold
coins in the mouths of murderers and thieves. A coin for the ferryman, an entrance fee to hell. Sefina's pockets are
heavy with them.

When she tires of civilization she retreats to the wilds. She is gone sometimes for months, years; she disappears and
her mythology grows wild in her absence. Sefina was a queen too long to not expect worship, and she walks out of the
trees to a crowd eager to crown her. People familiar with the deep dark know her as one might know their child; and
she comes to the desperate, and the helpless, and the weak. She offers confidence and a firm hand, and she takes these
souls home as she did in her underground kingdom.

With those few who catch her eye, Sefina lingers. She keeps watch on them, listens for them, gives to them flowers
who whisper in her ear the secrets they hear. She loves the bold and the reckless and the ones that remind her of who
she was when she was young; the brave girls who step fearlessly into the dark, the boys who can spare a gentle touch for
a fading plant. To these Sefina pays special attention, and she guides their lives as she sees fit, nudging their path,
shaping their future. She ensures that they become the people she imagines them to be, no matter the changes she
must effect.

Sometimes Sefina goes to the deepest part of the woods, where the birdsong is muted by shadow and the vines grow
thick and hungry. She stands beside trees that have seen her childhood and she remembers who she was, who she has
become. Sefina pays homage to the things that have shaped her but mostly she runs hell's coins through her fingers and
thinks of the throne she left behind. She has found a new one now, a modern one; and she has a court that obeys her,
and reminds her of her mortality. She misses the underworld sometimes, her home, her kingdom; but Sefina has sacrificed
godhood for this brave new world, and she intends to stay.



|| art by Dolly ||

[Karmel]

CURRENT STATUS: ROUND THREE JUDGING

The third and final round is closed for judging the winner.

[echoclouds]

Good luck <3
Is it fine to say this?

[_silentsiren_]

Good luck to everyone!! Your forms were AMAZING!!! The ART WAS STUNNING!!!

Congratulations to the winner!!!

[Unleashed Squiid]

Good luck everyone! c:

It was an honor to make it to the final round, and to work alongside the four others who made it. Good luck to all, and an early congratulations to the winner! Your forms were gorgeous, aa. It must be so tough to judge.

[Kyar]

I've meant several times to stop in - it's been an awfully busy week!

I wanted to say first and foremost that it was absolutely incredible getting to work alongside all of you and your stellar ideas! I can't thank Karmel (and other judges!) enough for putting me through to this point and while I'm relieved to have the competition out of my hands I'm also still very excited (and nervous - let's be real) to see the results!

I have no doubts that this pretty kalon will be loved regardless - and the best of luck to each of you - I can certainly see how much time and live has gone into these forms.
And once again for those who didn't make it to this final round - my goodness I hope you aren't discouraged because the ideas I saw in each form were incredible. I certainly wish you the very best in your future adopt tryouts!

[eli ayase]

good luck to you all! i had so much fun !