Elizabeth Noyes
Bio
Cole Elias, he/him, transitioning. Multiply-disabled, transmasculine, demi panro Achillean Autistic writer and aspiring author, animal lover, and gamer.
I love 5cm Per Second, NBC Hannibal, Cozy Grove, Minion Masters, Fortnite, Mass Effect.
Stories (16/0)
The Hunt Begins
"By order of the Queen: we ride." How strange, this proclamation made by Scáthach in the Queen's stead. None had seen the Unseelie Queen; she kept to the top of her obsidian tower, shunning the world at large. It was incredibly suspect, yet none dared inquire after her. "Are there any questions?" Scáthach asked with quick authority, eager to move on. It was a token question meant to appease tradition, nothing more. None were expected nor desired to speak.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Laelaps and the Vixen
The instability of the Fae Realms of Elphyne exploded after the assassination of the Summer King five years ago. Whatever peace might be wrought in blood and iron between the disparate Courts was shattered that night, along with his blade and his lone heir's heart.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Where the Marigolds Grew
Her breath smells like cherry wine, and there are marigolds in her hair. Humans are nostalgic beasts; they'll carry their memories everywhere-- like little flowers growing too fast in foreign climes --nevermind the destruction they wreak. With empty hands you toast to the end of all things, miming the gesture as you clink your glasses in ersatz salud. You gulp and choke on air. The wine ran out hours ago; only dust motes and dirty water remain.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
The Dark Phoenices
Myra was 12 years old when the package came. It was a strange brown box, all wrapped in paper with five or six holes punched out the top. Papá had gotten ones like it from the hatchery, but they were cardboard and more put-together like. Aún, she could hear the faint peeps coming through the holes. She shrugged, scooped it under one arm, and took it to her papá.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Through the Darkness to New Beginnings
“Now I am strong and lapped in sorrow As in a coat of magic mail and borrow From Time today...” -Stevie Smith I was a precocious child. I had multitudinous interests, mostly of the natural sort, ranging from gardening and hiking to bird-watching and chicken-keeping. The future, it seemed, was laid bare before me—I could see it, practically touch it –and in that future, I was successful, I was enchanted by my work, and, most of all, I was happy. Of course, I would be married, with 2.5 children and a white-picket-fence-house with all the amenities. I would have a dog, and chickens, and perhaps some peafowl and goats. I would garden and I would bird, I would hike and I would rehabilitate wildlife in my spare time— why not? I had all the time in the world. But time, alas, has been a fair-weather friend, and childhood dreams are oft left by the wayside.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Psyche
Out of Reach
"Welcome to paradise." Her first introduction to the city: brief and-- though she didn't realize at the time --deeply sarcastic, on the tail end of the bird that shipped her from starvation (and thrust her into poverty). They landed in Yellow and, like any fool, she was awestruck by its shining facade. That is, until she got the king's treatment: an escort straight to Red. From time to time she'd hop the hourly shuttle through Orange, and tears welled in her eyes at the beauty of it; at the thought that, one day, she'd be pulling deliveries there, too. She was a stupid kid.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Bwạwyd the Earthmother
"At the beginning of the world grew a single Pear Tree. From its fruit was born the moon and stars and all their offspring and, from it came forth the first woman: rich as ebony with hair like the night sky. From her womb grew all earthly things: men and their children; the birds and the earthbound; the crops and creeping things and all the earth's wonders. The woman chose a man for her mate-- this one twined through the skill of her hands --and through him they had many children. But his eyes were wandering and his heart devious. He dreamt of things not of the earth, and planned to slay the woman and gain her power, so that he might remake the world in his own image; bright and burning, like his furious heart. He did not know that the woman's power was of the Tree, and thus immutable. It could not be either lost or gained.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Down for Nine
It was a day like any other. Headed out early for the NYSE on a cold winter morning, tumbler of espresso hot in hand, Eleanor chose the Jeep for its traction. She stepped into the vehicle, steam fogging her glasses to the point of annoyance; she threw the pair into the passenger's seat and settled in. It was a very early morning; she couldn't help but yawn. Navigating from the log cabin added an extra hour or so to her commute, but it was worth the hassle to duck under the high price, tiny spaces of downtown. She pulled out of the drive, and sipped at her redeye.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Adelaide
You're eight when the Bad Things start. Your pup Miffy breaks your piggy bank-- the one on the high shelf --the money disappears, and Miffy gets run down, all on day one. You see the way his legs jut at odd angles-- splayed and splattered at his side-- like a photograph, grainy and distant but always there, in your mind. No one knows how the-- gate --got opened.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
Freed
"But Lord Darion--" "I will brook no dissent. Away with you." The taller of the two men-- Darion --stands rigid and proud, clad in black leather contrasted by shocks of fair hair, his complexion perhaps the fairer. The man his lesser flees at his words, quick to the black Bentley Mulsanne from whence he came. His chauffeur is no slower to seek his egress.
By Elizabeth Noyes3 years ago in Fiction
