[leaftail101]

Mark!

[Cheeb]

fable name
xxxxxJasper

how do they find their color again?
xxxxxIn the midst of the woods, dark and deep, sat a cozy cottage full of vibrance. Here lived Jasper, an apothecary; he, like any good medicine-maker, had an unsatiable curiosity. His days were spent foraging for herbs and traces of magical creatures, jotting down notes, and mixing together potions and medicine. He made his living off selling his creations in the nearest town's market, earning a reputation for being somewhat odd, but friendly nonetheless. He'd taken an apprentice from town, a skittish young thing who helped him out some, and sought to teach them his methods. While he enjoyed his solitary occupation, oft spending stretches of time alone, there was something pleasant about having another soul around.
xxxxxThe day it happened was like any other. Jasper and the other fable had spent hours and hours in the woods, picking berries and herbs, handling them carefully — or so he thought. The most peculiar thing happened when he had returned to his cottage and went for a nap. (Lazing in the sunlit warmth and falling asleep was his worst habit.)
xxxxxAlmost too soon, he suddenly awoke to his apprentice hovering over him, eyes widened. "M-Mr. Jasper! You're... monochrome!"
xxxxx"Am I?" He rubbed at his eyes and looked down at himself. "Ah... no kidding, hm?" He truly was monochromatic: a shade of gray replaced his typical browns and greens. The only color remaining was in his golden eyes.
xxxxxThis wasn't the first time Jasper would find himself in a magical predicament. Relatively unfazed, he considered how this might have happened: perhaps somewhere in his exposure to so many magical ingredients, an unlucky combination had sapped his color away from him. However, every other time he'd found himself affected — whether it be putting himself in a daze with a puff of poppyseed, or dousing himself with an accidental love potion — he knew what the problem was and how to fix it.
xxxxxIn that sense, losing his color was concerning, but he brushed it off for a few days. It was merely a cosmetic change, wasn't it? Jasper continued his work, laughing along with comments at the market about his newfound appearance. It was only when the gold faded from his irises that the extent of the situation was apparent. Jasper could no longer see color — annoying, but harmless — and his vision was marred with a hazy blur that even his usual spectacles could not fix.
xxxxxNow, this was a true issue: with blurry vision, how was he to make his living? More importantly, how was he to help others through his concoctions? He needed to do everything he could to regain his color.
xxxxxWeeks passed as Jasper dedicated himself solely to researching a cure for his condition. He scribbled notes in his journal (as best as he could) about different combinations of ingredients, trying everything his frazzled mind could think of. Aside from getting more of the herbs he periodically ran out of, he seldom left his cottage. If not for his potions and medicines, what was he good for?
xxxxxWhen his apprentice arrived one afternoon, he sternly turned them away. "Leave me here to pity myself," he grumbled, so differently than usual. "Nothing good will come of me until I'm fixed."
xxxxx"I've told everyone in town what happened, and they're all worried about you! Please, come along with me!"
xxxxxThose pleading eyes, he thought, they'll do me in.
xxxxxUnsteadily, holding hands with the other fable, he made his way into the market. Instead of being met with whispers or gasps, the usual faces he'd been accustomed to were simply concerned. The baker and his wife bestowed him several loaves of bread, hoping he could savor the taste; the florist handed him a big bouquet, hoping he'd enjoy the aroma. The lute player on the corner even dedicated a song to him! Was it possible that his presence truly was missed in the market?
xxxxx"Thank you all," Jasper said, a hearty smile on his face. How easily he was moved by sweet gestures.
xxxxxA tear trickled from his eye — and, in its wake, a streak of brown was left across his fur. Slowly but surely, the fable's colors began racing back through his fur, large strokes of color sweeping over him. Color flooded back into his eyesight, and that horrible haziness was gone.
xxxxxThat day, he'd learned that all he'd needed for a cure was compassion and care instead of isolation. He realized that the most useful behavior in any situation was kindness.

xxxxx(749/750 words)

what did they look like before?
xxxxxMoodboard below! I imagine him as being primarily brown shades with green/colorful accents and gold eyes, but I would be open to as much artistic liberty as you'd like ♡

[ruffblue]

Marking!!

[Not sure if I'll have time to get it as polished as I'd like! If it happens to close before I get everything done I'll def try again in the future! I absolutely love this concept sm 😊💕]

[Vinson]

Fable name: Fusi (pr. fyoo-see)
How do they find their color again?:

He floats through the world as a ghost.
He cannot remember how long it has been, only that everything has grown soft and quiet as he has faded further, as the light has dimmed from his eyes and his coat has lost its luster and his thoughts move slow as the path of the sun in the sky on a summer day. And it would almost be peaceful, if he could remember what it was that he still needed to do before he could rest and let the earth consume him. But instead he feels his heart beat in his chest, just once per day, but it’s still there and therein lies the problem.

His frustration tickles him like an itch he cannot reach, even as he swings his antlers at anything and everything to try and soothe it. It is almost malevolent and as he hears how they speak of him his breath furls and frosts out of his nostrils, a bugle rises in his throat. He does not want this. He does not want to be this. He only wants to rest. He only wants to be whole again.

Every day is the same until it isn’t.

Today the wind whispers to him. She is soft and sweet, caresses and soothes him as the leaves shake and the smooth line of his spine shivers with her breath.

“Follow me,” she beckons, swaying the sedge and parting a path through quietly rattling rushes. He follows as if in a daze, eyes locked on the edge of the forest where she is leading him unblinking and unwavering.

“Rest now,” she breathes as he basks in the cool shade of the cedarwood, as he buckles his knees and feels the dank cover of the forest floor seep into his joints, as he closes his eyes and lets his head hang heavy with the weight of his crown of bone and velvet.

This is it, he thinks. It is finally time to rest, to sink into the earth, to become food for the worms. His heart beats, its allotted single rhythm, and-

Pain sears through his chest as his heart beats again. And again. And again and again and again.

His eyes flash open and he startles, lurches forward, crying out for the wind to help him as he gasps for breath, heaves his ribs out, the agony of blood rushing through his body for the first time in a long time sending him crumpling back down into the ground.

She tuts, gently brushes his forehead, and he chokes as his antlers shed from his skull in a single shattering second.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asks, curling over his spine now, following the length of his back down to his tail.

He screams as wings sprout from his back, a coughing gurgle in his throat as his spine seems to crack, alight as a fire, begging her to stop.

“Oh but my darling, you must change to become whole again. You cannot continue in this old form, as this grey ghost without purpose.”

The only way he knows that he is still alive is that his wretched heart is still beating, pounding in his chest as his ribs quiver and his newborn wings, all useless four of them, taste the breeze on their feathers for the first time. He forces himself to his hooves and staggers forward.

Despite his quivering muscles, his bones feel solid for the first time in a very long time. His coat shines soft, no longer monochrome as he had grown so accustomed to. His eyes blaze with the light of a thousand suns in the dark and he is both the closest to and the furthest from himself he has ever been.

What did they look like before?: unrecognizable (cr)

[BelieverInChrist]

Fable name: Whispen
What did they look like before?: This Comic provides context for the writing below. I went with a vague idea of what I might want her to look like (color palette, wing markings) but I forgot what day it was and made this all within the afternoon, so I'm afraid it's not a stunning depiction of her by any means


How do they find their color again?: [wc = 748 words]

Whispen called upon her friend Harpsichord as soon as she could get away from the wretched crustacean. Harpsichord had appeared with a burst of confetti, taking a shortcut through the other world, and had sat politely to hear her friend's tale.

"We just can't have him changing the whole North to suit whatever tastes he may have," Whispen finished.

"I agree..."

"Do you know what I can do?" Whispen asked, with a swish of her now-dull tail.

"I'll contact King Marius of the deep--he will summon the Magefish back. But until then, I think I have an idea for you. First, you'll have to..."

-

"Will it work?" one of the rabbits was brave enough to ask of Whispen, after she'd explained the whole plan.

"We just have to get him far enough away that the magic fades. I think this should keep him nicely." She sent them off to do their tasks.

On the first day, the rabbits chased the fox, threatening to eat him, back and forth along the shore. They made sure to do so within the Magefish's sight. Harpsichord made no return.

On the second day, the whales in the harbor sang horribly, garbling up their usually-beautiful voices into nonsense ballads about flying through the air. The Magefish heard, with perplexity and interest. Harpsichord still had not come back.

On the third day, with great effort and a pinch of helping magic from Whispen, a narwhal crawled out of the bay and walked off into the taiga, right in front of the Magefish. With expert timing, Harpsichord returned directly afterwards, popping back into the physical world with yet another burst of confetti.

"Oh, esteemed Magefish," Harpsichord gave a flourishy curtsy at the edge of the water. The key was not to let them have a word in edgewise. "The great King Marius has sent me to retrieve you, for your magic is greatly needed in his court."

"I will return to the North as soon as he's done with me," thought the Magefish, and off he went.

In the court of King Marius, a great fable with a double-tail, the Magefish was called to give account of himself.

"What have you seen in the North Sea, my friend?" (King Marius found him just as loathsome as the other Fables did, and had been glad of the break, but understood the gravity of the situation as much as Harpsichord had.)

"I turned Whispen, Guardian of the North, into a beautiful apparition," the Magefish gushed, remembering the psychedelic flourish of his handiwork. "But that's the only good thing I witnessed; you would not believe how things are done in that country."

"Try me," said the king.

"Well, the rabbits chase the foxes, not the other way around. They even eat them, or so I have heard." The Magefish began warily, and for good reason; Marius' courtly lords and ladies shook their heads in doubt.

"Go on...?"

"The whales--you won't believe this. They can't sing!" Someone gasped. "They're completely tone-deaf, and the songs are nonsensical, all about flying through the air...as if they even know!"

"I have been to the North Sea, and it wasn't a mite like this...!" a lord of the court interjected, though he was silenced with a nod from the king.

"Go on, Magefish."

"Well," the Magefish thought about the narwhal and reasoned that silence would be more appreciated at a time like this. "I think I'd better not."

"I'm starting to wonder if you even visited the North Sea at all." called a lady of the court.

"I did...!"

"Everything you've said so far has been utter madness." King Marius said. "Go on, what else did you see?"

"I saw a narwhal..." the Magefish began, with a nervous gulp..."I saw a narwhal get up and walk out of the sea." The court gave way to uproar.

"That is preposterous." Marius bashed his mighty hoof into the shell horn, calling the nobles back to silence. The Magefish had nothing further to say for himself.

"Magefish, I think you ought to stay home for now," King Marius said. "I was wrong to send you away, thinking it would do you some good--you must be very ill indeed, to have hallucinated such a world for yourself. You will remain here in my court until you are well."

It took a few weeks, but Whispen's color returned. King Marius did, eventually, send her a letter expressing his regret for the whole affair, and life went on.

[honeybunchesofoats]

Fable name: Saint
How do they find their color again?:

Blase. A scholarly term for inevitable boredom. Something the creeps in after you settle down in a new place and things finally start to feel like home again. All your days blend together, you see the same people, eat the same food, walk the same path. It's what lead to this moment where he looked into the headmaster's eyes and he knew he was being let go. He even found himself not feeling the extent of that, he wasn't upset, or disappointed, or angry. It just was, he just was, his spark lost to the hustle of the city growing around him

He moved to Doveport, a fishing village not far from the city he had been thrown out of. He could see the tips of the tall buildings in the distance, reminding him of what he should be mourning but even here, in this someplace new, he couldn't shake from the rut. He often stared out of his apartment window, watching the sailboats disappear over the horizon. One day, he was picking up ingredients from the market for a pie, something to hopefully satisfy him for the first time in months, when a small but powerful force slammed into his front. A flash of green hair and a missing teeth smile as the young boy scrambled away from him while calling out to his group of friends.

"Sorry mister! Victory wait, we're not going to miss the shooting stars, they won't start for another hour!"

Saint brushed himself off, grumbling but something the boy said made him pause. Shooting stars, that couldn't be right surely he'd have known there would be a celestial event tonight. As he walked back to his apartment, color slowly creeped at the edges of his vision. He pulled his academic journals out of the boxes still piled after 4 months of being moved in. After another hour of research, Saint stood up and rushed to his window. Stars rained down from the sky, they were so bright they made his eyes water and he had to look away, heart thumping with excitement. Loud, childish hollering grabbed his attention and he saw the young boy from earlier and his friends gazing up at the sky in awe.

He hadn't even noticed the color back in his life before he had grabbed his coat and rushed towards the group of boys with a renewed sense of passion. (401)

[certified]

this was a hard one to judge! I’ve truly enjoyed reading each response, all were so creative and fun to read!

The winner of this fable is wind song, congrats! I kept coming back to this form. It was so extremely well written and actually made me tear up. I loved everything about it. And I felt like the warm golden coat felt so suitable for this kiddo. I’ll have them finished soon. <3


I would also like to award a ticket 🎟️ to the following:
- L.V.L
- leopia
- Vinson

[Cheeb]

congratulations, everyone!!

[wind song]

thank you so so much cert,. omggg <3
I'm honoured that my entry evoked some emotions! I definitely poured a lot of feelings into it ; v ;
I'm beyond excited to see the final design !!

just wanted to say I adored all the entries here too :'} leopia's was so beautiful and creative!! congrats on the tickets!

[Alantica]

Ohh congrats wind song and everyone else that got a ticket :3!!!
Loved many of the entries!