Joining up with Fandango for Flashback Friday with this post from 6.3.2021. Written in response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge’s photo prompt.
Crimson’s Creative Challenge # 134
For Crimson’s Creative Challenge 134
Gathering Clouds
Clouds from the north a gathering din changes are coming storms moving in don’t rightly know when it’ll hit the shore but skies are a changin’ like never before
Farren ambled through the forest aimlessly, her ears still ringing from the mortar fire. She shook her head again trying to clear her mind, when abruptly she came upon a dilapidated building. An old greenhouse, long abandoned being reclaimed by the forest. Well, maybe there would be something edible to salvage, food was scarce. She was so sick of this bloody war, front lines constantly changing, attacks and counter attacks making it impossible to stay put for even a single season. Fought over some point so obscure, neither civilian or soldier could remember what they fought for. She parted the densly overgrown plants and saw a number of yellow fruit hanging from a branch. She grabbed one and bit in. It was sweet and the liquid cooled her parched throat. Greedily, she reached for another. That’s when she noticed the blue glow.
Inside the Torri Gates at Fushimi Inari Shrine Kyoto Japan
Through the Gates
Pass through the arches and find the light walk through the Toriis and then to the right to the garden’s path so warm and bright where we’ll sit and talk and in the day delight
Til next time ~Where there is kindness, there is magic ~JP
Ominous bird perched above me I can tell you do not love me your vantage point, way up high piercing gaze from your eyes when you fly away toward the sea please just do not poop on me
“A crow? Really? Witch just HAD to turn me into a crow. Could have chosen a nice black cat for a familiar, or a horse would’ve been nice, a tiny dragon oh yeah! Well, I’m standing my ground on this one, I don’t care how nutritious it is, I am NOT eating THAT!”
He had been tasked with protecting the old enchanted forest by the Lady of the Woods herself. To protect this one stand of trees. The years turned to decades and the forest thrived. But then man came with his machines and his fire and the forest fell. Still Kratos stood, a burned and dying stump, guarding the ground. Until the carver came. He stroked Kratos’ bark and cleaned the outer layers to reveal the beauty of his grain. Then the carver gently pulled away dead debris until he found the face of the guardian.
“There you are brave Sentinel,” the man said as he gazed on Kratos’ face. And he walked away, but he left Kratos a gift, magic portals for his eyes to see every intruder, friend or foe. He stands there still in quiet judgement of any who would try to further desecrate his lands.
Meldimeriel was a small child, or a very large fairy, depending on your own perspective. She was a solitary child, prone to fantasy and play acting in her own yard, where every bush held a hidden fortress, and every hummingbird was a winged fairy warrior.
Her parents worried about her flights of fancy and daydreaming, but it was this very trait that would alter the course of her destiny, and the fate of the entire Elysium Forest Clan.
The small brick structure held a large wheel that was ripe for turning, and there came from inside an odd hooting kind of sound. Meldi gave a little jump and grabbed the wheel letting her weight bring it down. A portion of the roof winched it’s way open. Out popped the head of the littlest dragon Meldi had ever seen. Their eyes locked and a lifetime of friendship and adventure was born.
Solanj sized up the path, deserted even at mid-day, this would do nicely. A lovely place for a gentleman to take a lady for a moonlight stroll. The symetrical trees and shrubs concealed many a covert alcove where lovers would be safe from prying eyes. A perfect place for the garroting of an evil aristocrat. Solanj fingered the gold ring on her hand, it’s cabochon stone concealing a poison dart. Her bracelet of lavender silk cord braided with strong silver wire wrapped easily around her dainty wrist, unrolled into an effective garrot. Solanj the most feared assassin of her age, never concealed a weapon. After all who would presume to question a lady’s jewelry.
The clouds gathered dark that day, blotting out the sun. Dark and ominous with jagged edges, holding the promise for rain. Xere paused, savoring the cool shade. Desiccated earth beneath her feet cracked and crumbled, as her lungs cried out for moisture. No storm came to quench earth or skin. No rain fell that day, or any day since.