Fables ✧ Lore Prompts

[kaisisles]

prompt: void (2)
fable: sian
entry: [522]

"llyr", she calls again (this has been the third time now)
"oh...sorry", he says, his eyes refocusing, snapping back into the present
"it's just...i had a dream about my herd last night. my birth family, i think."
---
well, that was a strange conversation.
as she left, sian wondered what he'd meant- the conversation, his dream, the ballroom- all of it. if she were to be honest, these days the normally abnormally gentle ambassador had somehow felt more distant than usual...if that was even possible. it definitely makes sense to miss your family, especially after so long, but it sounded like he was talking about a memory of his own living room as though it were a scene out of a thriller.
it just didn't really make sense to her, but she wasn't planning on leaving him to deal with it by himself. which was why she'd insisted on going back the next morning and taking him on a loooong day of whateverisms that would surely take his mind off of the disturbing memory. (surely!)
---
instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

there was a jolt, a sensation of falling...and falling. she couldn't remember what she'd been doing last as the ground rushed away from her, objects retreating into a darkness she didn't seem to take up any space in.

i know how to handle this.

i know where this is. i've been here before. i've gotten out of here before. this is not the same as before. i am safe now. i found... i found? when, who, where did i find?

in the darkness, several things rushed in one after the other. a splintered wooden floor. an old dresser, which she found to be empty. old wallpaper, fraying and tattered. she reached out in the darkness and met a horribly cold, uncomfortable dampness that had to be coming from a leak in the wall. was it raining outside? where was 'outside'?

after some time had passed in the darkness and silence, she got to her scraped knees and began to feel along, shuffling against the floor. surely her dress had torn and scuffed to the point that would have made her cry- if she could see the state of it. she raised a sleeve to wipe at her face, and it smelled like mildew. she hated mildew. or at least, she would hate it from now on.

12.
7. 1. 3.6.25

the numbers came scrawling out of the darkness, grinning mockery. you don't know what time it is, do you? oh...you are so, so lost, little girl. come, stay here. you're happy here. this is what peace is. don't give me that look. you said so yourself.

the numbers on the grandfather clock leaned in closer, and she backed against the wall as far as she could.

but this time, silver hands reached out of the darkness, wrapping around her and breaking the infinite void.
it smelled like soft pine, the morning air, and the scent of a familiar wooden desk and parchment.

i promised to visit llyr in the morning.

sian woke up from the cold dream, safe and sound.

art half

[kyeza]

prompt: void
fable: sirëya (& netyissë)
entry: 504 words


something was terribly, terribly wrong.

she could feel it in her bones, in every breath of crisp, cool air, in every step she took and every move she made. it was as if there was something foreign hanging in the air, like a thick blanket of fog; something that didn't belong.

it’d been this way since dawn. since the moment she’d opened her eyes with the sunrise, she had felt it.

it had been days now, since she had done the unthinkable, since her wrath had culminated into a curse so very powerful that it was irreversible. she’d felt the aftershock, the fallout and its consequences, witnessed firsthand the aftermath of her actions.

and she’d felt the void creeping up on her when she wasn’t looking, felt the change in the air and the eerie sound of absolute nothing ringing in her ears. she’d seen it, noticed the splotches of starlit blackness out of the corner of her eye, dissipating into nothingness when she turned to look.

but it wasn’t until the darkness truly encroached on her that she really understood.

this eternal, star-speckled night was caused by her. it was her punishment, or so it seemed, for tampering with dark magic and bestowing such a curse upon her dear sister. her divine punishment, for her cold-heartedness and ambition.

it’s only when the dark envelops her completely that fear consumes her, winding its rotten tendrils against her sides and wrapping tight around her mind.

and then it flickers, starlight pulsing in tandem with something else.

“do you ŕ̸̼̤̟͛ȩ̵̜͆͐̕g̶̞̪͈̈́́̀ŗ̴̫̖͖̒̀̊e̶̲̗͙͈̍̾̎̽͛t̵̙͉̤̣̋̈́́̅ it?” a disembodied voice crackles, robotic in timbre, filling this void of a mind-space with something strange and new, something intangible, surreal.

images of her flood her mind: her once-radiant smile and pristine beauty, her now-mangled mane, jagged fins, and abyssal gaze. she fills her visage until sirëya is drowning in her likeness, a sea of unresolved emotions and unkept promises and—no.

no, no, no…!

she didn’t, she wouldn’t, she couldn’t. it wasn’t meant to be. she had done it, her actions had run their course, and now the consequences must follow suit. she would never live to regret what she had done. she couldn’t; she’d never be able to live with herself if she let her resolve down for even but a moment’s time.

the remnants of the question resound through the empty space around her, echoing off of nonexistent surfaces and piercing her body and soul at the most microscopic of levels, transmuting its very essence into her being and leaving no trace of it behind.

“no. no i do not,” she says forcefully, her words ringing true across space-time, bound by verity and compelled by candor. and with her voice comes a rip in the very fabric of reality, tearing an incandescent hole in the starlit abyss, glowing light breaking through the eternal blackness.

she moves towards it, with renewed, fiery passion, floating forth with intent, and passes through the gap in the cosmos, onwards unto infinity…

… and she never looks back.





prompt: tapestry
fable: npc (cahir)
entry: 504 words


“thief!” a booming voice roars above the din of the crowded market streets. “get back here!”

cahir thunders down the alleyway the thief had darted into, hooves striking hard on cobbled streets. cloaked in shades of ebony night, this fiend had snatched a gilded band from the jewelry collection he’d just gotten his hooves on, right from under his nose. as they’d fled, he could see the flash of gold that should have been in his leather satchel and outrage had all but flooded his mind.

the worst part was, he wasn’t even supposed to have gone out today. this whole thing could have been easily avoided, had his assistant not gotten sick. instead, he’d been forced to carry out the job himself, arranging the business deal and meeting the contractor he’d hired.

and so, here he was, hunting down a vagrant for his missing possessions. what a joke. it wasn’t long until his chase brought him to a hall of tapestries, woven with intricate threads and depicting a variety of scenic views. had it been under any other circumstances, he would’ve stopped to admire the craftsmanship of each one, but right now he had other things to worry about.

he’d lost sight of the thief for a moment, but a flicker of movement across the room caught his eye. for a second, he could’ve sworn one of the tapestries moved on its own, rippling with motion. but of course, that couldn’t be, right..?

a gust of wind howls through the hall like a wind tunnel, churning up a fluttering storm of fabric and forcing him to blink. when it all stills once more, he glances back in the direction of the movement, only to find everything to be perfectly normal. but still, something called to him. something was amiss.

he treads lightly across the rug-strewn floor, mismatched colors and patterns criss-crossing beneath his hooves, jewelry jangling as he moves. when he nears the tapestry he’d set his sights on, he sees it once more. a little figure was dashing across the woven landscape, darting behind little trees and rock formations and racing further and further away.

he halts with a start. something about the picture was inviting, calling to him to reach out to it and become one with it as well. and, against his better judgement, he does.

it happens in an instant. everything around him begins to spin, the world dancing to a rhythm only it can hear. one heartbeat, then two, and suddenly his surroundings are all but two dimensional, himself included.

what… what is this..?

flat surfaces refract false light, everything taking on a woven texture, even the great open sky above. he spins in place, disoriented in a way entirely unfamiliar to him.

it’s then that he catches sight of that flash of ebony once again, tantalizing and just out of reach. he steels himself, mentally, and then trudges on into this strange world of intertwined fibers. he’s already in too deep, he might as well give chase.

[feverrr]

prompt: tapestry
fable: aella (ft. melui)
entry: 1026 words

aella had never planned on being a florist. but then again, she’d never planned on being aella, either.

there had once been a girl named alouette; top of her class, golden with promise. fables had whispered about her in the marble halls of feyllune’s most prestigious academy. gifted. brilliant. a prodigy. no one saw through to the ache beneath her glow, to how her hooves trembled when she wasn’t casting.

so, one day, alouette split herself in two. more time to work, more room to breathe. but the spell had gone wrong, and she had become aella and melui. irreversibly, for better or for worse. now, aella sells flowers in feyllune’s marketplaces. finally, she’s free; or so she tells herself.

melui visits every day, spending what little money she has on aella’s bouquets just to stay close. aella pretends not to notice, most of the time.

she wraps the stems in twine with practiced ease, never quite meeting melui’s eyes, never asking why she always chooses the same bouquet of sun-drowsy narcissus. but sometimes, when melui lingers too long or laughs a little too brightly, aella’s hooves falter, just for a moment, as if remembering something half-forgotten. something warm and whole, and now long gone.

one afternoon, while threading a ribbon through a commissioned bouquet, aella felt a sudden tug at her side. she turned just in time to see a shadow dashing away, bouquet grasped tight, vanishing into the crowded afternoon market.

she almost let them go. she wanted to let them go. it was just a bouquet, after all, but there was this feeling that mounted in her chest, like thunder in a bottle. so she followed.

down winding alleys, under gently swaying laundry lines and between curtained archways, she gave chase until she stumbled upon a place she’d never seen before. all pale stone pillars and dusty afternoon light. lining the walls were more tapestries than she could count, intricate threadwork shimmering like ripples on pond water.

one tapestry caught her eye, swinging gently as if recently disturbed. within it, the thief darted between trees, bouquet clutched tight. she knew this was foolish. she should've just walked away, shrugged this off like she did everything else, let someone else chase this thief through impossible places. but her body moved before her thoughts could catch up, and she stepped through.

the world on the other side was warm, drenched in gold. it smelled like memory; like dry grass and parchment, like alouette’s childhood. aella walked, following softly glowing footprints, until they led her to a circle of standing stones. there, the thief stood waiting.

he was just a kid. his dark, well-worn hood slipped back, holding her bouquet like it was something sacred. his razor-sharp gaze carried an impossible weight as he met aella’s eyes.

“was it worth it?”

aella blinked back, at first not understanding. “the bouquet?” she replied, indignant, choking back bitter laughter. he chuckled lightly in response, pausing before speaking. “no. all of it.” and then it landed, what he was really asking. all the hours, all the pushing, the quiet collapse. the years of chasing perfection until she’d snapped herself clean in two.

was it worth it?

her heart skipped a beat as the words pierced her thoughts. they seemed to echo in her mind, reverberating through her bones. she wanted to reach out, to snatch the bouquet back, to answer him. but she couldn’t find the words, nor could she force her body to move.

she swallowed hard, the weight of the question pressing heavy on her chest like a stone. all at once, in a sick, nauseating churn, she could feel the pull of the years, the split, the burn-out. and then, a jolt. a sharp and sudden shift, as though something within her was tearing. the world around her stirred, sickly sweet, the colors twisting, bending, unraveling. the edges of the world around her began to blur.

the sky cracked first. fine fractures spider-webbing across it like a porcelain mask, light bleeding through in jagged lines, too bright, all wrong. the trees around her shimmered, leaves fluttering upward instead of down, veins glowing like molten wire. the stones beneath her lost their shape, rippling like disturbed water before turning soft and sticky, pulling her hooves into the ground like tar.

and finally, aella snapped awake.

the cool morning light cut through the curtains of her small room, the quiet hum of the township outside seeping in through paper-thin walls. her body tensed as she inhaled sharply, pushing herself upright, heart still racing. the remnants of the dream still flickered in her mind, dissipating like smoke in a breeze. the thief. the tapestry. the stolen bouquet. the question.

aella squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to shake off the last vestiges of the dream. it had felt so real. she knew her life wasn’t supposed to be like this. she knew she wasn’t supposed to be here, still running, still severing herself in two every time she tried to rest.

the market would open soon. her stall, her flowers, her small, comfortable life. everything was just as it had always been for her since the split. aella glanced out her window and listened in on the city as it hummed with energy, with fables going on about their lives.

she could hear young children laughing, the bustle of carts rolling by over cobblestone paths, the rhythm of the city whirring to life. the world moved forward, even if she didn’t always feel like she was moving with it.

was it worth it?

she wasn’t sure. not yet.

when she arrived at her stall that morning, the first thing she saw was melui, eyes red-rimmed from a lack of sleep. she smiled anyway, as she always did. “i watered your orchids,” melui chirped. the dream still clung to aella like pollen on fingertips, but it no longer felt like a warning; more like the first green shoot after frost. so delicate, so incredibly uncertain, but alive.

she stepped behind the stall, close enough to smell the dew that lingered on melui’s sleeves.

“thanks,” aella murmured, and she meant it.

[persimmon]

prompt: tapestry
fable: Persika (this was written with her human version in mind)
entry: [1326 words]

Before Persika (Sika) became a surveyor and earned her blooming horns, she was a student star crafter. Star crafting was a path Sika thought she continue the rest of her life on, but there was a sudden, unforgettable event that changed Sika’s interest and life trajectory.

When Sika was young, she was known as a talented student who could quickly create large, shining stars by herself. Sika enjoyed the star crafting but sometimes got bored in the teaching. However, the most boring part was learning history, and Sika had to review a lot of notes to prepare for her history finals and maintain her high grades.

“XXX BCE, XXX BC, … blah, blah, blah. It all seems the same. Why do I have to know this anyway?” While Sika grumbled over her notes, she barely glanced up in her struggle to recall the exact dates. In her immersion, she could not notice the large orange and black bird sneak up behind her until it snatched her notes. Torn from her semi-immersion, Sika saw the bird thief quickly glide away with her notes held by its claws. She questioned why a bird would take her notes, but she knew she could not pass her finals without reviewing them. So, she quickly took off after the odd bird.

Running after the bird, Sika was led to a dark, windy alleyway. She questioned the path many times, but she was assured she was on the right path when she saw a bright orange feather trail. Eventually, she was led out of the dark to a bright hall of shimmering tapestries. Many of the tapestries caught her eye. She even noticed some tapestries depicting star-crafting fable history (“Ugh, as if I need more reminders to study,” Sika thought to herself). Still, what caught her attention the most was some bright orange that stood out against a shimmery green tapestry. “Caught you!” Sika yelled while lunging for the bird. However, as she lunged forward, the bird flew into the shimmery green tapestry, and Sika inadvertently fell in with it.

“Ouch,” Sika whispered while rubbing her hurt wrist. Sika had fallen into the tapestry with a hard crash and barely braced herself while she closed her eyes. Since she closed her eyes, the bird had escaped and was now nowhere to be seen. Persika sighed while looking around her. She had fallen on a ground of somewhat spiky, somewhat soft, green strands. The place wasn’t at all like the white, fluffy clouds fables normally walk on. Picking herself up, Sika looked back at the portal leading to the white fluffy cloud ground she was used to before stomping a bit on the ground. She felt that it is much tougher than she is used to but somewhat soft with the spiky green, but at least she could be sure that the ground would hold her. So, she continued walking down the green path in search of the bird thief. As she walked forward, the green land became more colorful, and she saw spots of soft pink and white resembling ‘Cloud Lily’ flowers dotting the land. However, she could tell they weren’t clouds like the flowers she was used to.

“Where am I?” Sika wondered to herself while she crouched down to pluck a few small pink and white flowers. Sika put some flowers in her dress pocket and twirled a pink one in her hand while looking all around her in amazement. The place had the usual blue sky she is used to, but it was much more colorful than her homeland. As she continued on, she saw some brown stalks with green leaves growing out of the spiky green ground. She recognized these as trees - the source of wood that was sometimes transported to her land for construction purposes. She even saw some trees with some nice red fruit (apples). She decided to pluck one off and try one before chuckling at the realization that food does grow on trees, which was a myth she previously wasn’t too sure of.

As Sika continued walking forward while chomping on her apple, she forgot the reason she was there until she heard some rustling in the trees. Looking up, she saw the orange and black thief perched on her notebook. “Aha - now I’ve really got you!” Sika yelled, while she prepared to fly upward. However, before she could reach it, the bird gave a mocking ‘caw’ before quickly flying forward through the trees. Frustrated, Sika started running after the bird.

As she ran forward, the trees and ground became less green. The land looked drier and felt dusty without the fresh, slightly sweet smell that was there before. The bird perched on one of the tallest trees that Sika would have a hard time getting to the top of. Looking around, Sika understood this place was lacking water, and she wondered if this land had not received rain. As she was silently thinking to herself, she heard a deep voice in the wind from the direction of the bird, “This book - why do you want it so bad?” Sika gasped, as she saw the bird giving her a perplexed stare but not moving its mouth while it spoke. Still, Sika decided to play along with the strange bird’s conversation.

“Well - I need it to study. It has important material in it.”

The voice in the wind chuckled before he asked a string of questions, “You know you’ve been here for a long time? Wouldn’t it have been easier to borrow some notes from a classmate? Think - have you really gone through the trouble of staying here for this cheap book?”

Sika was shocked at the questions, but they made her understand that she wandered through this place, pluck the flowers and the fruit, and felt concern for the land for her fascination the place. It had been a long time since she felt such an intense interest for something. It was far greater of an interest than star crafting and especially the boring history contained in the notebook. However, Sika didn’t want to quite acquiesce with the bird’s mocking thoughts. So, after looking around and the dry land and the lush, green land in the distance, she just responded, “Well, since I came all this way - I hope to retrieve what I came for. After all, I trust my notes the most.”

Again, the bird chuckled. “Don’t lie to yourself for too long. It’s not good to live your whole life in a place that you feel is pointless.” Saying these words, the bird thief dropped her notebook before disappearing into thin air.

After looking around to see where the bird went, Sika’s eyes turned to her book on the floor below. It was now very dirty and spotted with brown. Squatting down to pick up the notebook, amidst all the dirt and scrambled notes, she saw the words ‘earth’ and ‘ground’ highlighted in bright pink on a page she not yet gotten to reviewing. Beneath these words, she saw ‘surveyor’, and Sika recalled the tales of how surveyors travelled to the ‘earth’ below and looked at the plants that grow underneath the clouds and stars. Placing her pink flower souvenir in the notebook and pressing it between the pages, Sika smiled with a new resolve to prepare for the surveyors test that would be happening the next year. Sika knew she needed to return home, so she started heading back - past the lush, floral land and towards the bright white of the other side of the tapestry’s entrance. She almost regretted leaving this place as she strolled closer to her homeland, but she knew she would return to the colorful land again someday. She would indeed take her boring final tomorrow, but she knew it would be her final test with star crafting before she opened a new chapter of her journey that would take her to new places beneath the stars.

[leaftail101]

prompt: tapestry
fable: NPC
entry:
The sun was high in the morning sky. A gentle breeze blew through my hair, bringing with it the soothing scent of the salty sea. I rounded a corner, entering the town center where the city market was in full swing. The area was bustling with brightly dressed patrons perusing the many stalls lining the streets. Merchants called out with strong voices, advertising their wares; waving bowls of tantalizing spices, sparkling jewels, and extravagant fabrics towards passersby in hopes of catching a wealthy eye. I made my way into the bustle, squeezing past distracted customers and dodging several merchants who reached towards me enthusiastically, beckoning me towards their stall. A small group of women dressed in luxurious frills flittered past me, tittering over a stall displaying a questionable selection of magical perfumes. As they passed me, I quickly dodged the hands of a pudgy fisherman who was trying to sell me a foul-smelling box of carp for what he claimed was an unbeatable steal.

I pulled my cowl closer over my head before subtly looking down for my satchel to ensure it was still there. I let out a sigh when I felt its weight settle against my hip. Looking back up, I searched the many stalls and signs of the more permanent businesses. It didn’t take long before my eyes landed on the large wooden sign I was searching for. It sported the emblem of a seagull in flight, a coin and quill clenched in each talon. Below, the words “Sally’s Pawn” were roughly scrawled. I quickly turned, taking a step towards the shop, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a dark form bumped roughly into my side. Stunned, I stumbled aside, unsure of what had happened. Assuming I’d mistakenly bumped into a passing patron, I turned to apologize when the form darted away, a dark blur zipping its way between other patrons before disappearing in the crowd. My brows furrowed in confusion and slight annoyance, but I shook my head, choosing to continue with my errand instead of berate the stranger for their rudeness. I turned to make my way back towards the shop when I froze. The heavy weight at my side was suddenly gone.

My heart began to thump in my chest, and I whipped my cloak aside, glancing down. The satchel was gone. How? When? My mind jumped back towards the odd encounter with the dark form. No! Before I could think, I took off in the direction the form had fled. I pushed past the many customers and patrons who now filled the streets. Ignoring the grunts of annoyance and shouts of disdain, I shoved my way through the crowd. Where did they go? Did they know what was in the satchel? They couldn’t have! I berated myself for not noticing what had happened sooner. Finally, I reached the edge of the market and pushed my way out of the crowd with a burst. I anxiously glanced around at the surrounding buildings and streets. Just as my eyes moved to the right, I barely caught the blur of a dark shape disappearing behind a brick building that lay a few yards away. I took off in that direction with all the speed I could muster. My heart was pounding in my ears as I rounded the corner. The dark form slipped behind another corner. I chased after them but the thief kept snaking their way through the narrow alleys, passing around a new corner each time I managed to gain a few feet. Annoyance and fury flared inside me, spurring me forward with added speed. I finally managed to come across them just as they swung inside a large building with large, heavy wooden doors that slammed closed with a loud thud as I raced up the stairs. I quickly pushed my way through the doors and entered what seemed to be a large, imposing hallway. There were no other doors or branching hallways to either side, instead, the hall stretched into the distance, fading into the dark. There were no windows, but aged metal sconces provided an eerie glow that failed to provide any bit of warmth in the chilly hall. In between each of the sconces lining the walls were the largest tapestries I’d ever seen. They looked very old and sported stunning art portraying a variety of scenes from epic wars to peaceful landscapes.

At any other time, I would have loved nothing more than to spend several hours gazing at each one, studying the intricate patterns and colors that made up the dozens of scenes, but right now, I was in a hurry. I glanced around the hallway but didn’t see the thief anywhere. I pushed away from the doors, hesitantly making my way down the dark hallway and past the towering tapestries. What felt like a gentle breeze brushed past me, which was odd due to the lack of windows, but I didn’t think too much about it as my mind was reeling with the jarring thievery and the loss of my satchel and its precious contents.

I passed a few more tapestries, catching subtle movements swirling at the corners of my eye, but each time I turned to face them, only the stagnant expanse of the tapestries greeted me. A gnawing sensation filled the back of my mind, but I pushed forward. I was more than halfway down the hall when something suddenly caught my eye. This time, as I turned to face it, the movement didn't stop, and my eyes landed on a dark form marring the colorful visage of one tapestry. The tapestry depicted what looked like a springtime festival set in a different age. Most of the tapestry showed a large field of flowers decorated with brightly colored streamers and stalls which cheerful townsfolk dancing about. In the distance there was a small village and a surrounding forest. Mountains faded into the distance and there seemed to be a tiny castle nestled between the rocky faces. As I studied the tapestry and the dark blur, its surface seemed to ripple and shine and the small dark shape wavered, slowly moving across the scene. I blinked. Moving closer, I squinted at the tapestry. Was it… really moving? I looked closer at the dark shape and noticed what looked like a tan colored bag slung in its arms. Wait, that’s my satchel! My eyes widened with disbelief as I suddenly recognized the dark blur to be the same thief who stole my satchel. What is going on? How did my satchel and the thief end up on this old tapestry? As my mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing, I suddenly heard a small squeak and glanced down just in time to see a large rat scitter over my feet. With a loud yelp, I stumbled to the side, eager to get away from the rodent. The rat squeezed its way into a small crack in the wall and disappeared. I released a sigh, then realized I’d lost my balance and was now leaning precariously towards the tapestry. Before I could regain myself, my feet slipped out from under me, and I went careening to the side. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for impact with the hard wall, but was greeted instead with the queasy sensation of free-falling.

I opened my eyes to see that I was no longer standing in the eery hallway, but was now several feet in the sky, quickly falling towards a grassy field where colorfully dressed townsfolk happily cheered and danced. I briefly had the feeling that the field and townsfolk looked an awful lot like the scene I'd just seen in the tapestry, but before I could give it more thought, I slammed into the ground hard, my head reeling. With a groan, I pushed myself up tentatively, testing my limbs and body for any injury, but surprisingly, I was completely fine. As I tried to regain my senses, a small child ran past me, waving a kite shaped like a fish behind him. Where am I…? Before I could give myself time to think about my circumstances, a dark shape zipping away in the distance caught my eye. That's the thief! I jumped to my feet and raced across the field. Not far away from the celebration in the field lay the small village. The thief darted between huts and ran deeper into the town. “Hey! Stop!” I called after them. The figure continued racing forward, not showing any signs of slowing down. I chased after them, my anger returning and flaring in my heart. “That’s my satchel!!” I roared. We neared what seemed like the center of the town when suddenly the figure stopped, slowly turning to face me.

I picked up speed, not wanting to lose this chance to catch them. As I approached, the figure stayed in their spot, showing no signs that they intended to run away again. “Hey! What’s your deal?” I shouted angrily, rushing towards the thief. Before I could reach for them, they quickly unhooked my satchel and tossed it towards me, the bag landing with a thump in the dirt and kicking up a poof of dust. I quickly reached down, yanking it towards me. I pulled it open, looking anxiously inside. When I finally ensured that the contents remained unremoved, I felt a weight lift off my chest. Then I was filled with confusion, and I looked up to see that the thief was still standing there. “If you were just going to give it back to me in the end, why did you make me chase you all the way in here?” I growled with indignation. The thief lifted what I now realized was a dark cloak that enshrouded their form. The face that looked back at me was what I can only describe as being utterly ethereal. Though a thief they were, the stranger was the most beautiful being I had ever seen. I felt my breath catch and my heart stop as I gazed dazedly at them. They seemed to notice my sudden enthrallment as their eyes twinkled with a hint of humor. I clenched my eyes, trying to clear my head and regain my thoughts. ”Who are you, why did you steal my satchel, and why did you lead me here?” I demanded, my voice carrying a bite. The thief tilted their head towards me, an indescribable expression spreading across their face. “My name is Thalia, I am the advisor to the King of this world, and we need your help. I was sent to find you as you are the only one who has the power to help us so I stole your bag to lead you here.” What? Did they just say, ‘this world?’ Are we not inside of a tapestry scene? Does this mean this world is real? What is going on, and what do they mean they need my help?! My mind was reeling, I had no idea what to believe. I glanced at them incredulously, not fully trusting their words but not sensing any danger coming from them. "You could have just approached me and asked for my help like a normal person..." The stranger laughed, giving me a sideways smirk. "Would you have listened and followed me to this world otherwise?" No, I thought, defeated.
[word count: 1899]

Stopping here xD To Be Continued I guess~

[Alantica]

prompt: void
fable: Chrysopoleia
entry:
It wasn’t noticeable with how it slowly crept into the forest. Skies drew cloudier, waters more turbulent, and winds more violent. Something was upsetting the balance but what?

The sun is starting to set on this fateful day. With the air colder, denser, Chrysopoleia decided she was going to take a shortcut home from the lake. A shortcut she has taken many times before but this time, it feels different. She didn’t know if it was the weather or maybe just her mind playing tricks on her but she quickens her steps, resulting in more carelessness, trying to get through the forest as fast as she can, and so she trips. Chrysopoleia trips and falls right into the silently expanding void. The unending stars greet her as she rapidly falls. She feels her consciousness fading as she stares up where the light slowly becomes a speck in the void.

Chrysopoleia startles awake in a dark gloomy forest. She looks around and recognizes where she is somewhat but it’s wrong, it’s different. The world that was devoid of color was silent. No chirping bird. No wind. Nothing. Silent. All she hears is her own heart beat. Everything was frozen in place. Trying not to panic, she makes her way to her comfort spot. She turns to her left to start making way when she notices the road she usually takes seems to be to the right instead. Everything was flipped. The unnerving feeling deepens as she quickly switches to the right path and makes her way down to the lake.

The lake, usually filled with life, was still. No signs of life. It looked like a black and white photo. Chrysopoleia lays down near the water hoping this will calm her but instead it makes her more anxious. It didn’t feel right. As she started getting up, something caught her eye. A sparkle. It was blue at what felt like the bottom of this lake. Something told Chrysopoleia to jump. She braces herself and dives right into the frigid lake swimming vigorously. She swims and swims closer and closer to the sparkle. The water feels heavier and heavier against her body. She reaches out to grab on to the sparkle when she suddenly surfaces the water. Chrysopoleia gasps for air flailing and the world has resumed. Butterflies float around and the trees sway. There is color in the skies, the trees, everything. The sky, now deep orange, gives Chrysopoleia such relief and she feels the heaviness of her body. She felt weak. She drags herself up the bank of the lake, her head rushing trying to figure out what happened. She is glad she made it out of whatever that terrifying world was and decides to take a rest break before heading home again. This time avoiding the short cut.

What was the abyss she fell into? An incomplete mirror world? She may never know, but it seems to be lacking something. May it be the reason why it is slowly creeping into the forest. To try and consume what it’s missing.
[511] + Art

[SilkenDragon]

prompt: void
fable: npc
entry: [1021 words]

Starlight flickers off the waves, and the sand is cold under Syzygy’s feet. She observes her surroundings once her eyes adjust to the dark, but there is nothing around her other than jet black water on one side, sand on the other, and a dimly lit sky overhead. She summons a small spark of light, then carefully moves to peer into the water. It remains completely impenetrable. Syzygy backs away, picks a random direction into the desert, then walks resolutely into the unknown.

The desert is flat and featureless. The only indication that Syzygy has moved at all is the sea behind, slowly shrinking into the distance. It’s only when the shimmering waters disappear from view that Syzygy allows herself to slow. Nothing but sand remains visible ahead, and her exhaustion is starting to build. Normally, a mage like her could go on for days or weeks sustained on nothing but magic, but in this place… She’d be lucky if her only ailment was needing to pick up a regular sleeping schedule again. This far away from the water, it should be safe to give into that urge.

With nothing in sight, her only choice is to camp in the open. The sky is clear and the wind is calm, so Syzygy chooses a random spot in the sand and only sets up a few different things. After a generous number of alarm wards are scattered across the sand, she drapes a warming spell over herself and settles down on the bare sand to sleep. She is granted dreams of odd, disjointed scenes. Her home in the snow, a red sky overhead. Flashes of a serpent’s scales in the dark, and bright, empty realms where she travels through indistinct ruins. She is a healer leading her people through cursed lands in one moment, a monster sacrificing all who trusted her for the sake of power in the next.

The visions keep her from a restful sleep, and so what feels like an icy touch at her leg jerks her back into consciousness quickly. The confusion from her alarm wards not activating holds her still for a moment before she reacts, leaping up from the sand and bolting. Disturbed by her movements, the warming spell breaks with a loud CRACK behind her.

Pain shoots through her foot and causes her to stumble. She’s made enough distance, so she allows herself to fall. Lying in the sand, she shifts her position to look back. A pitch black sea fills her sight, as if she’d been pulled right back where she started. Or, as Syzygy glances to the side - where a handful of her alarm wards still stand, untouched by the water - the sea had pulled itself through the desert after her. The water, moving faster than she expected, had crept up the sand and silently destroyed her alarm wards.

The initial flash of fear disappears. Even with an injured leg, the sea would not be able to catch her awake. She rests on the ground and watches the water in silence, waiting for the pain in her leg to fade. When it does, she finally turns her attention to it. Her entire foot and the side of her leg have turned black, indicating where it had been submerged. Syzygy slowly gets up and tests her weight on it. While the limb is numb and stiff, she determines it should recover with no permanent damage.

Still, she is careful with her movements as she hobbles to her remaining alarm wards. Unwilling to waste her resources, she takes the time to disassemble each she can. They were never meant to face the tide, and not all are recoverable. Syzygy can only watch the ones furthest from her reach flicker and die as the water washes over them, before she continues forward.

Needing to mind her every step slows her pace greatly, but eventually, she finds something other than sand. Syzygy pauses to take a short break by the new object - a spire of rock, sticking out of the sand. It was normal rock with no special properties, but it represented safety. Syzygy notes it down, then moves on with her nerves a fraction less frayed.

Soon, more stones start to appear. There are only a scattered few at first, but their frequency increases until Syzygy is traveling through a field of them. Syzygy keeps a straight path as long as she can, but is forced to break from it as the stones begin to grow in size as well, weaving between rocks that reach her height.

She keeps going until the stones tower over her. Woody vines start to appear as well, which reassures her further. Sprouting from the sand and climbing the rocks, they possess bitter, waxy leaves that serve as a safe source of water. She picks at them when convenient, gradually filling her mouth with bitter juice. She’s growing tired once again, and it’s a good spot to set up, so Syzygy slows her pace and analyzes her surroundings for suitable locations.

She finally chooses a stone with a flat, elevated platform that she can climb up to as her camp. She carves her warming spell into the rockface, and chooses the placements of her alarm wards with greater care. With the warming spell being set into a semi-permanent structure and the alarm ward reinforced to alert her even if broken in a manner like before, it is far more secure than her previous camp.

Unfortunately, the increased magic drain seems to have been a touch too far. Syzygy goes to lie down on the warming stone and finds herself staring out into the dark in a slight daze. Clouds have since gathered in the sky, lending it a gentle shifting texture that contrasts with the impression the land has already left her. Syzygy finds herself in a strange peace despite the growing number of tasks she slowly sorts in her mind. It somehow feels like she’s already jumped over her biggest hurdle, and as she begins to doze off, she’s almost hopeful about what lies ahead. Her sleep is surprisingly dreamless.

[Vivika]

prompt: tapestry
fable: gioro
entry: 808 words <3

even the former divines cherished the esperie.

the gods of old were said to weep with delight, their tears like molten streams of honey in the weeks leading up to it. they were said to open their gates to all mortals, their fountains effervescent with sparkling wine and their finest jewels sparkling upon every citadel wall. they were said to watch with baited breath as they witnessed the moment when earth meets sky and kisses him, tenderly. at the point where magic ignites, a spark between two realms, and sews a fragile seam—a tethering seam.

and that seam was said to bind the unchanging, steady essence of earth to the ever-capricious, ethereality of the skies. wings of cirrus clouds intwine with the mountainous forms of low-born clouds—clouds fashioned of daylight and a thousand dawns, the color of blushing lilies and the broody storm of indigo-violets, with the gold of daffodils striking upon the highlights.

pillars of flora and fauna would twist from the soil to meet the cloud canopy. a drapery of singing orchids, the tinkling laughter of bluebells, the weeping forget-me-nots that sent flowerfalls through the clouds. the sweet sonata of pineapple birds flitting from pillar to pillar, weaving the foundations with music and dance. flying pufferfish guard the premises, their colors like that of dragonfruit—a rich magenta flecked with green-gold scales that ooze with sticky poison.

until finally, the esperie emerges.

a hanging garden suspended on the wings of evershifting clouds—the haven of earth and sky until their romance falters. until all fades into the grey for another seven years. now, most celebrated the esperie for its beauty and architecture—the arches and spires of cloud-crafted towers and bridges, the staircases of ascending clouds that sang out different notes upon touch. but that era of history was a relic of the past, known only to few.

and perhaps his mystery informant had chosen this location for more than meets the eye.

he adjusted the twist of scarlet petals around his ear. their agreed upon sign had been red. esperie fashion favored the soft dreamy sweep of pastels, the flow and billow of chiffons and near translucent, shimmering fabrics, airy, light and trailing in the laughing mist. a bolder color would’ve been unusual—a standout. even then, he’d yet to see the tell-tale flash of red in the ever-growing crowd.

the press of music bloomed within him. the low bass of a thrumming drum as an older fable passed—his face a gentle collection of sun-tanned wrinkles and valley folds. the screech of a violin as a butterfly cloud swished past, a young fable chasing after it, her curls iridescent and wind-wild. a duet of lilting flutes from a set of nearby twins, the crash of cymbals from a stormy-eyed prophetess. he touched the pendant around his neck. a quick beat of warmth pulsed against his chest, still receptive, but more tepid than the last time he’d calibrated it. for now, the music of the crowd still quieted to a dull hum and his iobel thrummed, a fading itch behind his ear.

“where are you?” the murmur tasted bittersweet on his lips as he wandered the ever-drifting halls of clouds. tapestries glimmered like a mosaic of color. the bright corals and playful teals of a tropical sunrise warmed one stretch of the hall. and the next stretch was haunted by a bonescape—an apocalypse of the undersea, where the skeleton of whales mourned the destruction of the deep.

he was loathe to leave, but he couldn’t stay for much longer. the enhancement on his pendant had its limits. push it too far and the spell would—

the music roared.

a blistering static screech hit him like a shockwave, tearing at him from within and from all dimensions. from the crowd around him in the in-between of esperie, but also faintly from above—the home of the astral courts. and from below—the home of the gaian courts. white lightning flashed, sinking their forked fangs in his mind. but the music, ancients, the music beyond the screech was the worst. a beautiful, haunting medley of notes and instruments with no end and no beginning—a symphony that would not end, would never end.

he grasped for the pendant around his neck, for the cool slide of chain-linked gold, for the sunburst warmth of the spell, but he clutched only wisps of air. a twist of light flashed at his left. a tapestry shifted—the vivid weave of baby blues and rose-blush pinks melting to an inky, dripping black. a shadow winked in, then out, the barest hint of gold flashing in its wake.

he didn’t stop to consider, couldn’t think beyond the unspooling music, the static screech, the staccato rhythm of his heart. he reached for the tapestry, the weave whispering against his skin and the braided tassels tinkling with little bells.

and
...........he
.......................was
................................free-falling.

prompt: void
fable: gioro
entry: 763 words

the silence seemed as if a lull in time.

no music, no laughter, no song. just pure, unadulterated, blissful silence. he lingered for a beat, perhaps two, perhaps more, each time savouring the reprieve. he should be more afraid. terrified, really. but he wasn’t.

the sense of his world unspooling, spiralling, before him in a string of notes and instrumentals, the ghost of that moment was the muse of his nightmares, but this? this he could handle.

although he couldn’t see anything in this abyss, he could sense the clatter of broken cobblestones and sun-scorched moss beneath his hooves. he could taste the decaying fragrance of orchids on his tongue, the sweet rot of a sugared plum somewhere in the shadows, the echo of ghosts that had once walked this seam in the realm. this place had been something once. something beautiful. a sanctuary or perhaps a garden.

a pulse of starlight lit the void, illuminating the tall, graceful form before him.

the thief paid him no mind, admiring the gold of his pendant in smooth, delicate strokes. colorful jewelry adorned his frame. rubies, citrines and emeralds were braided into his midnight curls. opals and blue diamond crafted into delicate blossoms formed a silver, spiraling ring that adorned the spire of his horn. a gold brooch pinned a vermillion cape across his shoulders, the rich velvet hanging in loose folds to hide his wings. if it were any other fable, it might have been a gaudy show of colors, but this thief seemed to pull it off with a strange elegance.

he cleared his throat. “my apologies for the intrusion, but i believe you have something that belongs to me.”

“such courtly manners.” an impish glint flared in the depths of those onyx eyes—sharp and clever. eyes that seemed more magpie than fable. “truth be told, i was expecting more shouting. fits of obscenity—something like that.” the faintest glimmer of starlight shivered upon the thief’s lashes. “it would’ve been far more entertaining.”

“have we met?” without his iobel, he couldn’t hear the tempo of his stranger’s music—the rhythm, the beat, the instrumentals. if they’d ever crossed paths, it would’ve been a clue as to the thief’s identity. “if there’s anything i can help you with just say the word. perhaps i–”

“you really should have spelled the pendant against thievery, gio.” the casual slip of his name held him fast. a tiny flick of a grin gathered at the corner of the thief’s lips, the rubies in his midnight mane glinting blood-red. “you seemed quite… weakened without it. would’ve been unfortunate if a rival court were to see you in a such a state, don’t you think?”

frost gathered at the nape of his neck. “the pendant was a gift from my sister. i would hate to lose it.”

“aw come now.” this time, the magpie drew close, his breath chasing away the chill of the abyss. a conspiratorial note lilted in his rich timbre. “i saw you, you know. even a pretty court-trained emissary like you can’t fully master the panic that comes with having something so… important ripped away. and this is important, isn’t it?”

the pendant tinkled, the chain catching the last pulse of starlight.

“look, i have a meeting to attend soon.” he smoothed the edge from his voice with a practiced smile. “like i said, the pendant was a gift from my sister. it has no value beyond sentimentality and i can pay you up to four times its weight in gold.”

“ah, but can you pay up to four times its weight in enchantment? now that is the real question.” the thief winked, leaning back a touch. “i can appreciate a bold-faced liar though. they teach you well in the astral courts. but please, do tell me about your homerealm.”

“forgive me." his jaw tensed. "but i cannot stay. i have a meeting—”

“and who says you aren’t exactly where you need to be right now?”

and the world seemed to morph as if a veil had been lifted from it, casting the soft, dream-like edges in sharp, cutting relief. the flash of rubies in the thief’s curls glittered, the vermillion cape drifted in the phantom wind. he couldn't stifle his gasp. “you’re…”

the magpie only grinned and tossed the pendant over. “surprise, surprise. send your darling sister my most sincere greetings. and you can thank her for the little charade for the pendant as well.” a spark flared in the set of those onyx eyes as the thief leaned forward, earnest. “so where do we begin?”

[clouds-move-on]

prompt: void
fable: npc [relates to the wip claim i have, but I wont have time to have him approved for this]
entry: [620 wc]

How will they escape?
Cry for help.
...

The darkness fades. It is all a vast white, and he finds himself staring up at a stranger. The stranger is polished like silver, shining; the sight is hard to bare on the eyes. The dreamer is forced to look away from him.

But they fall into talking, and the stranger says-

"The void is not what most describe it to be, is it? The shadows that creep at the corners of your vision, as you sink there, would hint at a darkness, a vast infinite nothing, yes? But that is not what it is."

"How did you enter it?"

"I hardly know. I- did once, but I can't describe the steps, or what I learned. I just... remember that I fell asleep beside her, and focused on trying to see what she saw in her dreams."

"That's nonsense. People cannot walk in each other's dreams."

"Ah, but, legends told me they could. Reports of such instances, rare though they are, have existed in our world for millennia. Look, sir- I don't remember how it was I figured it out, but as you yourself now see, I stepped into the void that her dream opened to me. And I found it a vast, white space, an infinite nothing at first- then it changed around me. It is- everywhere, many places, at once."

".... Whatever you can imagine....?"

"Whatever you can imagine, yes."

"But it isn't real."

"Real....... no. Well, you and I are real. And we are here."

"I'm still not to set on you being real. No offense- but I know I am asleep, and this is a dream. So you're probably just a part of my imagination, spouting nonsense at me."

"I wish it was so. I want nothing more than to not be trapped here, as I am."

".... Can I help you escape?"

"I hope so."

"How?"

"I don't know."

"You don't seem to know very much."

"It's hard to remember things. You see so much in so little time here, it's very confusing. It's.... almost like seeing a hundred minds. You know... all those stories you hear of mind reading?"

"Yes..."

"They make it seem easy, often. But this... being stuck in the place of dreams. It's something like what I imagine real mind reading would be. I-I don't think anyone but God could take something like this. I don't think we can fit thousands of images, memories, flashing words, so- many different ways of thinking- in- in seeing, in all their languages- and, and and colors and- and sounds all at once."

The shining man breathes hard, as if he is taking in all he mentions as he says this. He lifts his hands to his head, cradles it.

"A-a thought isn't merely hearing words flash through someone's mind it's- it's too much. I cant even decipher what belongs to who, most times. I can't tell how I left her dream and entered someone else's- and- and yours.... this one is the clearest, quietest moments I had had in so long. I only just begin to be able to... think coherently. So forgive me if I can't remember much."

The dreamer and the stranger do not know what to do. But the dreamer feels the pull to help, despite how skeptical they are they is real. What a nightmare to be trapped here.

"We'll try and find a way." The dreamer says. "Perhaps, if you remain in the quiet long enough, you'll be able to think of something. But- I must wake up. What will happen to you when I do?"

"I should be able to remain here, for now, until next time. I'm not certain. But I'll try."

---

prompt: tapestry
fable: Cream & Crispy
entry: [948 wc]

The villagers often gave Cremilda gifts. Tasty snacks- arrays of nuts, fruits and sugars, oh, so delightful. Colorful toys that she could toss into the air, and watch their colors shine and dance in the sun- general delights like these. Cremilda loved them all, and, among her favorites were the edible flowers the gardener's children would weave into her fur.

She would always look at her reflection before she dared eat these delicacies. My, she thinks, I am very pretty in all these flowers. They always complimented her so well, from every angle. She was proud of them, and of herself, and of the children that knew exactly how to decorate her so beautifully.

It is on one such occasion that she- standing by the water, staring dreamily down at her own pretty visage, is so distracted she does not notice the steady approach of someone else. This mysterious someone creeps through the shadows, hidden beneath the trees at the glade's edge. It watches as she, first, takes a drink from the water, then, staring at herself, sighs in admiration.

It is almost a crime, she thinks, to eat the flowers. But it was a waste not to- after all, flowers wilted, even these marvelous ones. And besides, they were very tasty. Oh well.

The watcher is silent, curious. Cremilda begins, one by one, to pick the blossoms from her coat. She lays down by the water and chews, mind drifting away and up, up towards the clouds, where the gathered precipitation forms palaces for her to daydream about. She imagines a royal court among the wispy, cotton-like strands, and she imagines herself- even she!- invited to the ball, to prance among the lords and ladies.

She wonders if the prince would invite her to stay and live in his gardens. For she- he tells her, in his mind- is so lovely! She would be the brightest flower in his garden, and everyone would adore her.

She wonders if fairies live in cloud castles, like she's heard in old stories. A fairy prince, inviting her to stay at his palace, to be the jewel of his kingdom. Very suiting. Although, she would miss the villagers... she sighs, and chews, and dreams.
She still does not notice the stranger watching her.

She always saves the best blossom- a shining white flower that the children would usually lace by her ear, or on her shoulder- for last. It is the most beautiful, the most delicious, and an exciting finish to an overall wonderful experience. But just as she is set to shake it down from where it sits upon her head- just as she leans forwards to let it topple before her- the stranger springs.

"A!"

Cremhilda shouts in alarm as she feels the flower yanked from her mane. Something dark, with a flutter like wings, has sprung from the treeline, snatched it, and is now running off. She hardly catches a glimpse of the creature's back hooves as it vanishes into the underbrush.

THE NERVE!! She casts a look of surprise as a single petal from her beautiful flower falls to her feet- all that was left. At first, she feels a spark of fright. What foul spectre lived in these woods, what monster would do this? But then- anger. And how DARE it take her lovely, lovely flower- a gift, too! Stealing a gift- what sort of vile creature would dare.

She cannot stand for it. Without much thought, she whirls around and gives chase to this stranger. The woods are dark, but she can hear it running ahead, and see a faint, mysterious sparkle about it. It does occur to her again- what else sparkles like that? Will-o-the-wisps? Perhaps it is taking her to a cliff so she could tumble and die.

But... will-o-the-wisps, as far as she was aware, did not have back hooves, and did not make fluttering sounds like birds' wings.

The journey takes them deep into the woods. The trees grow strangely tall, taller still. The light barely escapes from between the leaves, and it is a miracle that she doesn't trip. Then- a structure ahead, a looming shadow.

She had never known such a thing existed in this forest. For it was an old, dilapidated palace, a mess of towers, debris and vines. She can see the shape of the stranger ahead as it vanishes into the structure. Her hesitation is but for a moment- but, ah, she has come this far. Would she really stop now?

The walls inside are lined with tapestries. She looks to and fro between them, unable to see the strange she's chased within. But she hears a shuffling, sees a glimmer ahead. There is one tapestry in the darkest, furthest wall- and it is emitting a suspicious glow, much like the one she'd seen in the forest.

The villain. He is COWERING behind it, isn't he? Well, she'll give him a piece of her mind. She jumps for it- tumbles, crashes, tangled, shouting confusion. She hardly knows up from down or down from up for several long painful seconds. A whinny- is it hers, or someone else?- a kick, a shove.

She sits up, breathing hard. She is somewhere else, a glowing, shining cave lined with gemstones, and cobwebs, and vines. She jumps to her feet, shaking them off her, and looks to see the culprit, finally, before her-

A skinny, deerlike animal, with a pair of wings, and a shining, single horn. He is staring up at her with wide eyes, but, otherwise, does not move.
Oh. But-
There is the remains of white flower just vanishing into his mouth. A gulp, and it's gone.

[Northstar.]

prompt: tapestry
fable: Evolet
entry: (1035 words)

It wasn't the day, or the weather, or the location that was suspicious to Evolet. It was the gut feeling in the pit of her stomach that something strange was about to happen. Call it a hunch, or instinct, or intuition.

She had her spun fabrics and lace tucked away in a woven basket with needles, thread, and a thimble. A small, velvet pouch of buttons sat on top - pretty, heavy brass buttons, engraved with sea flowers and sea vines. They were for a special order - a very special garment.

Evolet was headed to the market, sun shining down on her in a pleasant way, when the gut feeling hit. It was like an unpleasant tickle, a warning, when the thief struck.

A nimble, gloved hand grabbed at her basket. They snatched the velvet bag and took off.

Evolet gasps, and races after them.

"Get back here!" She fumes, dodging pedestrians. "I waited six months for those! They were on back order!" She's not even winded as she follows them into an old building, only three steps behind. Dust created thick clouds as they ascend a staircase. The thief slams a door in Evolet's face and when she gets it opened she watches them disappear... into a tapestry.

"Curse the Watcher," she whispers. The scene is shimmering, opalescent waters, with ethereal mermaids and giant, gilded seashells. Evolet dives in.

She holds her breath, following the last glimpse of the thief through the warm waters. Her feet touch the soft, sandy sea floor, abundant with pearls, singing clams, and seafoam green crabs. Evolet had always been a decent swimmer, her wings helping her pick up speed beneath the water. Three mermaids swim gracefully through the water, circling her curiously from a distance. The mermaids giggle and follow just out reach, swirling their multicolored tails in brilliant arrays of iridescent scales and neon fins. They blow bubbles shaped like balloons, flowers, and hearts. The balloon shaped hearts float away in the current.

She needs air, desperately, but there is no surface as far as she can see. Evolet gasps, and breathes. The water is as light as air. A mermaid tries to grab her basket of fabrics and Evolet pushes her hand away.

"Keep your salty mermaid paws to yourself," she says, clutching the basket closer. "We can trade later." Evolet swims after the thief through a tunnel full of coral and sea life. Her wings push against the water and she reaches to grab their cloak. It slips between her fingers.

Evolet curses, bubbles shaped like fire bursting from her nostrils. The corals pulse with light, warm and welcoming in the warm sea water. Her rage turns them brighter. The tunnel turns, then splits with a dip at one end.

The thief dives into a deep, dark cavern. A small group of glowing psychedelic jellyfish slow Evolet down as she dodges their stinging tentacles. The mermaids wave to her as she descends into the darkening waters, giggling and shoving each other to watch. They peek over the ledge, one covers her eyes, the other covers her mouth, and the third covers her ears. Evolet doesn't have time for their dramatics. She needs those buttons!

There is a thickness in the water now, a feeling of something else. Something different. Shadows swirl, just out reach. Creatures that Evolet refuses to acknowledge. Sea serpents, monsters, kraken, or ghosts; she doesn't have time for any of them. The dark waters grow thick like jello and the thief slows. Evolet grabs their foot and they tumble through the water, into a bubble of air at the very bottom. They fall through the water into a soft room lined with plush, pink cushions, open clamshell recliners, and a pink iridescent chaise lounge.

Evolet lands in a puddle, and when she looks up she can see the light far above refracting through the water- and the dark shapes in between.

She yanks the thief's foot.

"Those are bronze buttons, coated in fairydust. Do you know how long those take to get? They sparkle beautifully in the sun and in the dark." Evolet snatches her velvet bag back from the hooded figure and pushes back their hood.

A fuzzy-haired king's knight stares back at her.

"What does a knight want with bronze buttons? You make more than they're worth in a week," Evolet asks, picking herself up and grabbing at his sleeve. He has one of those fancy tailored shirts with silver buttons and ruffled sleeves. The nice kind of thread from the downy sheep's wool in the north - more expensive than most. The king's coat of arms in sewn in a patch on his right sleeve. The two cranes are knitted in silver with ivy entwined. He was high-ranking, but Evolet wasn't sure who he was. Strange, very strange.

The knight pushes her off and runs before she can stop him. He leaps on the chaise and bounds into the waters above. Evolet doesn't give chase. She has what she wants.

"Suspicious. Very suspicious."

Now to find her way out.

She takes her time swimming up, watching the darkness. It's not scary - just creatures who prefer the dark. She likes their big eyes and sharp teeth, can appreciate the grittiness of their nature and the shyness of their souls. Evolet swims to the top where the mermaids wait - they look ecstatic and are chattering her ear off as they lead her from the tunnels into the open sea. They emerge from a giant conch shell. Evolet spends a few moments trading with them - some lace for scales, a bit or velvet for pearls. It's what she does best, after all.

Then she finds the place where she entered, where her footprints are still imprinted in the pearly sands. There is no door or gate, but the waters here are cooler and shimmery. Evolet swims through and falls out of the tapestry onto the wooden floor.

She lands in a puddle, again, and takes in the dozens of other tapestries in the hallway. She doesn't know where they came from, but they move and shimmer just like the one she escaped.

Wet footprints lead from the room - the last remnants of the knight.

(1035 words)