Fantasy The Book of Fairytales

[RealisticFantasy]

he book was hardly anything of interest on its own. It appeared to simply be your regular aged and dusty book. As such, few in its time had ever given it a second glance. Tucked away on a shelf with similar-looking books in the back corner of a peculiar shop, your gaze had to linger just a second too long for the inkling of a thought to cross your mind that this book might be something out of the ordinary.


The shop in which the book resided, on the other hand, was anything but ordinary. It was full of objects mystical and magical from the land that the Surface Dwellers so desperately wanted to venture to. The shopkeeper was a peculiar-looking man who went by the name of The Narrator to those who bothered to ask, which were few. His hair resembled a cloud in both color and texture and he perpetually wore glasses that made his eyes look two times the proper size.


He spent the majority of his days recording the history of the magical land in the form of children's tale. Every now and again, he would fabricate this part or that bit to make the story a bit more interesting or more family-friendly. His favorite hobby, however, was serving as the conduit between the magical and the mundane.


Today was an important day. He could feel it in his bones. He gathered his parchment, his quill, and his inkwell and set them perfectly to his standards on his desk. He considered sitting a moment and ultimately decided against. Just as he came to his decision, the bell that hung above the shop's door rung out. Striding out to the storefront with a large smile, he greeted whoever had entered the store with a cheerful tone.

"Peter," Red says in a singsong voice just above a whisper, walking her fingers along the edge of Peter's bed. She taps his nose gingerly as she sings out again, "Peteeer." She paused for a moment, waiting for him to wake up on his own terms. Finding his response - or lack of - unsatisfactory, she tears the blanket away from him in one big showy swoop.

"Time to get up, Peter! We're going to be late!" She shouts, shaking him from sleep and stepping back with a triumphant smile when she sees him open drowsy eyes. "Come on, sleepyhead. Let's go!"

Red and Peter had been friends - nothing more, nothing less they would both insist if ever questioned about it - since Red has ran away from her town. She hadn't told Peter exactly why she had run away because she hardly had gotten a word out before he had started his usual antics. Besides, why dwell on the past when there's such a bright new future ahead?

The pair had hardly been affected by the civil war dividing the land. Mainly because they resided a good distance away from the majority of the conflict. Neither wanted to concern themselves with such a serious matter anyway. So they continued to live their lives as if nothing had changed because, for them, nothing had.

​

 

[Prankster Pi]

Peter blinked in the light that filtered through their hideout and stared blearily back at his friend. He wasn't so sure of the word at the moment. Right then, as he listened to the snores of the Lost Children wafting up from below and focused on Red's mischievous grin, she felt more like an enemy.


He frowned at her to let her know he didn't appreciate being so rudely interrupted from his sleep before burrowing his face back into his pillow.


His dream has been so nice... Both he and Red had snuck upon Captain Hook's ship and shoved the traitorous, smelly, wickedly stached captain right off the starboard. And all the other pirates ran away, and the ship was theirs to run!


But now... Sunlight was reflecting on the bark that made up the swooping low walls, and his blanket had been stolen, and his so-called partner in crime had done the cruel deed herself.


Peter moaned and reached out, snatching Red by her little cloak and pulling her closer until she fell on the bed with him. He hugged her and closed his eyes again. Maybe if she was here, he could have that dream again. Dreams were rare lately.


"Luna won't be mad if we're late~" Peter said sleepily and with a smile. "Just a bit longer!"

 

[Dominaiscna]

There was Raven, standing just in front of the now closed door with her attention drawn to the first shelf on her right, lined with all sorts of small trinkets and ornaments. Her hair was shiny and her clothes were dark from the light rain outside that had driven her to seek shelter in the first store she saw which happened to be this very one. It was quite strange really as she had never noticed the little shop before even though she frequented the street. Originally she was to go shopping in the town square for some writing supplies but, on the way there, the weather spoiled her plans.


Raven had just picked up what seemed to be a gold statuette of a lion when the old man greeted her and, from his warped reflection on the gold surface of the ornament, she observed him. He seemed harmless enough. Putting it back in its place, she gave the entire shop a quick sweep with her eyes before turning towards the old man with a placid look on her face. It didn't seem like he owned or sold anything she would need but there was no harm in asking or looking around. Besides, she wasn't going anywhere with the storm outside.


"I'm looking for some writing supplies. Papers, ink... Empty books or journals if you have any?"

 

[Aine]

Alex took a massive breath before he steadied himself on the edge the crevasse before him, the slope was so steep, it appeared to be a straight drop down. He stared right into it, and for a moment, it seemed like the cave stared back into him - its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole, sending shivers down Alex's spine. He was scared, yes, but he knew that the excitement of exploration would far exceed the initial fear. Catching his breath quickening, Alex tried to calm himself down - slowing down his breath and closing his eyes, holding tightly onto the safety rope which he tied around his waist, connecting to a near by tree.


The sudden sting of a cold rain on his shoulder jolted him out of his concentration. Alex was so focused on this one cave that he didn't notice the gigantic grey cloud which loomed over the forest, letting out a sigh as he came to the realization that it would be too dangerous to dive into an unknown hole during a rain fall. It was likely that the rain would turn the ground into nothing but slippery mush for the next few days as well; Alex clicked his tongue as he unfastens his rope and carefully walk, well, mostly slide in the mud, back towards town.

 

[Uxie]

Mad Hatter

Luna looked at the ensemble of teapots on the table, narrowing her eyes at one particular detail. She reached over, adjusted the angle of a teacup and smiled in satisfaction. Perfect. What a pretty little picture she's created.


She sat down in one of the seats, pouring herself a cup of tea. The way she'd been depicted in the storybook was in no way accurate, but they did get right the fact that she adored tea. Coffee? That crap was for scum. Tea is obviously better. "Inviting me to your tea party this time?" A voice asked, and Luna scoffed as Cheshire materialised in the seat opposite her.


"As if. You don't even like tea." she accused, glaring at him. Cheshire shrugged as a cup appeared in his hand. Was that coffee? In a cup? No, in her cup? "You can keep that cup later. It's been tainted." she said distastefully, waving a hand to dismiss him. Cheshire smirked and slinked away.


"Looks like your guests are a little la-ate." Luna paused, raising her eyebrows. She clicked open her pocket watch, revealing that Red and Peter were in fact a whole minute late. Frowning, she turned to glance into the woods, waiting for their figures to pop into the distance. Though, this party was indeed a tad early, Luna was sure they had the discipline to haul themselves out of bed, right?

 

[Hazardous]

The Beast

​

The High King had died leaving the lands in turmoil. How sad it was to see the unions and bonds so easily broken by greed and want for power. Already, skirmishes for land ensued in bloody abandon across fields once meant for wheat or livestock. It was as if life and all that encompassed it was tossed aside. It was as if they were blind to the massacres, and it often made August wonder if this land, too, was just as cursed as he.


Having learned his lesson long ago, August no longer desired wealth or power or validation. He stared out the window of the home of the late Viscount DeLaque in quiet contemplation of what now was his life. A ragtag battalion of soldiers set up camp on the estate grounds as they awaited orders from their superiors within the grand mansion. They sat next to campfires as the morning turned brighter, their hands grasping plates removed from the kitchens to hold their modest breakfast. Behind him, generals and renown warriors discussed their next move. How he landed a spot among such experienced men was beyond him.


“Neverland is a joke,” General Lauphan stated as he gazed upon the map of the region. “The only threat from them is maybe their pirates. Do their ships even sail through the skies outside of their domain?”


“I don't think they are even remotely interested in the crown,” General Haux responded. “They may be closest, but our real concern should be those from Wonderland. I heard rumors they are advancing to the Fields of Heather within a fortnight. We can't let that happen, or they'll have this entire area.”


“We sent a scouting party eastward to investigate rumors of them taming the jabberwocky,” a leftenant said as he pointed towards the eastern section of the map. “If it proves to be false, we could intercept them here before the Fields of Heather.”


"And if it proves to be true?" General Lauphan inquired.


“Then I will deal with it,” August responded as he turned back towards the war party. There was a pause in silence as they considered the man before them. August was known as the recluse who emerged from the depths of depression and grief to finally vanquish the fabled Beast that had killed his family and plagued the lands around his estate. Little did they know he had only tamed the Beast. Perhaps it was their ignorance that earned him a place before the table. Never the less, they all nodded in trust that a man such as he could take on something as infamous and dangerous as the Jabberwocky.


“Very well,” General Haux said with a final nod in satisfaction. “Leftenant. Rally the men for training while we wait for the scouts’ return.”

 

[Verse Zero]

Village of Fairfield





The little hamlet was just to the East of the Fields of Heather. Enclosed within sparse woodlands and a several brooks running along gentle banks of soft dirt. Small, insignificant, and eerily silent. Strangely enough the air was chill, frost on the windows of the little stone houses, it had snowed here by the looks of things. Then again one just had to look around and see the splotches of white among the green grass. How could it? In this exact spot? Then there was the bodies. Strewn about as if they had collapsed in a haze. Their chests still rose and fell, breath escaping their lips, but they laid unmoving. Their eyes open but like amber glass without a flicker of life.


"What in all the world..." said one of the scouts atop his steed. The brown mare was pacing itself in an agitated manner. "Could it have been the Jabberwocky Hanse?" Turning to the man examining a milk maid who was now peacefully comatose in a pooling pond of spilt milk. "Nah Claus...you can feel it in the air...Jabberwocky doesn't leave people like this. Tears em' up you see. Dreadful beast."


"You...you sure." piped a third man who was also dismounted and peering into the hovels.


"Aye---I smell witchcraft about the place. Yep. Some woodland Hag I'm sure of it!" said Claus. The third man opened a door and walked inside a hovel off to the right. The second man, Claus, swiftly followed his companion into the hovel. What they saw was pure encapsulated horror. "Jester...what...what the hell!" The third scout, Jester, joined by Claus saw a man who had died at a desk heaped with ancient tomes. But his body was nothing but skin and bones. Like something had leeched the life out from him. Leaving him a dried husk.


"Warlock? Look at the books!" said Jester frantically as he drew his sword.


"We should burn this place. Let fire cleanse it." stated Claus. Grabbing a smoldering torch he was about to strike flint when Jester stopped him. "Oi, you hear that?" Claus looked at his friend and shook his head, "I ain't hear nothin', probably our comrades who went further East ahead of us looking for the Jabberwocky."


"Nah shush."


BANG BANG BANG





It was coming from below them. A cellar perhaps? Jester pointed his sword while Claus pulled up his pistol. Pulling the hammer back he pointed it towards the cellar door. Whatever it was it was going to get a mouthful in the form of a lead ball. Claus nodded to Jester who frowned as he reached for the small brass knob. His hand touched it, the banging stopped, Jester flung the door open. Red fell.


SNAP-CRACK





Smoke leapt from the barrel of Claus' pistol while something crashed into Jester. Knocking him over a wooden stool placed behind him. "WHAT'S GOING ON!" yelled Hanse as he barreled through the door with his carbine before him. Looking down Hanse blanched, "You almost shot the bloody woman!" Hanse pushed Claus pistol wielding arm down as he went over to the lady on the floor. The red haired woman flinched and scuttled back to the wall. Fear in her eyes.


"It's okay miss. We'll get ya to safety." Hanse spoke softly while glaring at Claus. Claus face turning white with shame as Jester heaved himself up in a flurry of muttered curses.


15 Minutes Later


The thunder of hooves sounded as three of the scouting party returned with an unexpected forth member. A woman with stark red hair, fair eyes, and possessing an attractive face. She looked nervous, frightened, scared. The scouts approached as their horses slowed to a brisk canter and finally a more reserved trot. Passing the sentries who tipped their hats as their compatriots returned they made their way to the General's tent. All three scouts dismounted while Jester helped the woman down, since she had to ride behind him with her arms about his waste, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Hanse and Claus walked up to the General's and saluted as they removed their caps.


"Sir's." said Hanse, "We've returned to inform you of something that has happened to the village of Fairfield just a league East of here. We noticed silence as the party went by the village so three of us broke off to investigate. The villagers, except one who seems to have died, are in a comatose state---I believe it to be the work of witches."


Hanse delivery was not smooth and he fought to make sense of what he saw. Claus cleared his throat and spoke up when his friend had finished, "We found a woman, the one outside the tent with Jester, she seems only frightened. Hasn't spoken a word the whole time. Before we left I did notice the man who had died was looking at books with runic symbols on them. It---."


"It seemed like winter had come to just that village, the man was a dried husk, and everyone else is laying in some devilish stupor." Hanse cut in and Claus shruggedin approval at the terse summary.


Outside the Tent





Jester made it look like he wasn't eying the woman. But he was, glances and casual looks followed by a smile, it was awkward. The woman simply looked at the ground. Jester was the youngest of the scouts, only seen seventeen winters, and in his mind the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen was before him. Then again the circumstances where terrible.


"So um...What's your name?"


The woman looked at him and managed a small smile of great effort, "Kyra." Her tone was flat and she quickly returned to looking at the ground. But her eyes glowed a dull purple for a split second, a smirk on the left side of her face where Jester could not see formed.


"Kyra, you from Fairfield?" said Jester. Oblivious. Kyra replied without looking at him this time, "N--No..."


Jester nodded slowly and made a show of looking away as to not make her uncomfortable.