When her auntie died, far sooner than she should have, Subira inherited three things from her. One was a blessing. One was a curse. The third was a quest. The curse is what killed her aunt. And the curse would kill Subira too unless she completed the quest before the number on the clock that her aunt gave her reached one thousand and six.
Once upon a time, there was an ocean of water and at the center of this ocean of water was an ocean of sand and at the center of this ocean of sand was an ocean of air and at the center of this ocean of air was an ocean of fire.
This ocean of fire was the realm of the dragons.
Upon her inheritance of a great fortune from a distant uncle who had favored her when she was but a toddler, the woman, named Gilda, had immediately adopted a lavish style of living. Thereafter, she and her husband and their two children abided first in comfort and then in opulence. When one of her less fortunate cousins came asking to share in a small portion of the riches, Gilda agreed, but only if he earned the portion, by being in her employ. He became her carriage driver. And he was driving her home one day to her countryside manor, when a sudden obstruction appeared, and he drew back the reins to halt the carriage.
When Sona first came upon the velvet sack lying just beside the road, she almost passed it by after a quick and curious glance. But with a sigh, she veered off the path and knelt down to inspect the sack. It was partly hidden beneath a bush, and the velvet was the color of leaf and dirt, so it was no wonder that another traveler had not yet found it and picked it up. She lifted the sack and checked it for markings, a monogram or crest stitched into the fabric, or perhaps something a bit more subtle. With one hand, she raised the sack, as she waved the other before her eyes, casting a lensing spell that would allow her to see any magical markings upon the sack.
I twisted my mouth to one side, and stared at the coin that I held in the middle of my palm.
In those days, there were doctors of teeth already, just as there are now. And in those days, the doctors of teeth were avoided by most, just as they are now. The doctors did their best, just as they do now, the good ones that is. One such doctor of teeth did his best, but failed to root out the deep infection that had taken hold in his patient’s mouth, an infection that had seeped from the teeth to the gums to other teeth, and then began creeping to the patient’s brain and his heart. The man—the patient—was past middle age but not yet old. He died of that infection. A painful and bloody death.
This week’s story will be posted soon. This is the anniversary post for Storyfeather’s sixth year!
The Year of Definitions is done! That was the theme for Storyfeather Year Six.
The isle of the giants? Oh, no…no, my friends, I wouldn’t ever try to return there. Once was enough.
I do miss my cousin though. I’m certain he misses me too. But I haven’t seen him since I left the isle, many, many years ago.
Three days has passed since Parnika’s baby sister, Kulfi, has been taken by the Marshmallow Monarch.
It was a time when dragonflies could flutter all the way up to the moon, when the flickering of a hummingbird’s wings was faster than lightning.
It was a time when the growl of thunder signified the coming of a catastrophe, a cracking of the earth, a roiling of the seas, a shuddering of the heavens.
It was a wild time.
And into this time was born a creature that her mother called Mora.