Fantasy
Seeing
When she was younger, she saw the shop as a magical place. Not only because of the literal magical goods bought and sold there but because something new and exiting was always going on over the counter. Her memory swelled with countless days of lucent seasons spent ooowwing and aaahhing over the store's four shelves and the hours spent on her tippy toes peeking over the counter to marvel at the many intriguing adventurers from far and wide with their seemingly endless stories. The monster hunters' wild armor; the bounty hunters' deadly weapons; the prospectors' rare artifacts; being at the store meant being a part of the adventure. But over the years her eyes became tired of staying wide. The adventurers' stories began to mesh together with similarities as her sense of adventure waned. And despite still sitting under the glow of the floating spark beetle lanterns, the magic of her parents' shop slowly vanished. Now she sat under the shade of the storefront workshop, sweating in the humidity of the lucent heat despite being entirely idle, wondering what may have caused the store's light to dim in her imagery. The robbery and the break-in certainly shook things up. And the subsequent magical security orbs on the walls did change the feel of the cramped interior at first but their constant hum and occasional scans were just background noise now. The years of restocking the same 4 rickety shelves and listening to her parents bicker about what items should go behind the counter (the most dangerous or the most expensive items) numbed the wonder of the colorful potions and the variety of animal skins. Her family eventually decided to invest in a magic crested animal for surveillance and security purposes but Nuo the antlered owl was a better pet than security guard and was more often found visiting the nearby storefronts for free treats than at his post. The adventurers that used to make her day with uncommon wares and engaging conversation now regularly ruined her shift with their horrible attempts to swindle her and, on occasion, their equally detestable advances on her. The only other thing to change was eventually earning the trust of running the store alone during high sun. Maybe it wasn't the evolution of her perception of magical equipment or the more objective opinions she'd made about the nature of the adventuring profession, maybe it was the company of her family and a shared sense of adventure that was lost over the years. But being the eldest and bearing the most responsibility came with its perks. And with the money she's saved after all of these blisteringly monotonous afternoons, she could afford to dream of adventures of her own. And all of them took place away from this village.
By ikkarus the skrivener5 years ago in Fiction
Owl and The Bone Lady
Owl swooped down into the barn during the midnight hours of a cold autumn night. She let out a long hoot and when she looked back outside she could see the Bone Lady watching from a distant tree. The Bone Lady waved her white hand and Owl waved back with her wing. She and the Bone Lady had been friends for quite some time since the tragedy that befell Owl many years ago.
By Luis Perez5 years ago in Fiction
O
Like a bird on the wire, Like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free. --Leonard Cohen I. To wake in a grassy bed, doused in dew, and feel the whispering wind on her skin. To see the angelic wings of the barn owl that nested in the bell tower unfurl as the bird took flight. These were experiences The Oracle longed for. She had read about them in the books the sisters sometimes passed to her beneath the heavy door of her chamber. The sisters sometimes allowed her to walk in the convent’s stone-walled, candlelit corridors, but never the garden. Still, on breezy nights, she could smell its secrets. Sometimes, a sweet scent drifted to her. “Honeysuckle,” the ancient, wizened sister told her once, and in an uncharacteristic act of kindness, hobbled back the next day bearing flowering branches from a bush to prove her point.
By The Angel of the Puppies5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Barn Owl
There once lived a great king who ruled over a great kingdom, and this king had a daughter who was more beautiful than all the flowers in all the land. When it came time for her to be wed, the king asked a soothsayer who she should marry, for the one who married her would be the next king.
By Joseph Nixon5 years ago in Fiction
Night Flight
Clouds whispered past Medusa’s tarnished gold wings. Her burgundy beak clicked in delight and Avian stroked the down feathers on her head. She was secured in a harness on Medusa’s back. Her mulberry leaf tunic was fastened tight around her chest and extended partially over her cherry blossom petal leggings.
By Sarah Wagstaff5 years ago in Fiction
Life of an Owl Woman
Saoirse Byrne didn't want to believe the screeches that kept her awake for the last two nights were a warning of her loved one's impending death. She denied it, as much as she denied her heritage over the years and extended family obligations. Then her husband got cancer, and she was desperate to understand the meaning as if old traditions and superstitions held a secret to prolonging his fate.
By Erin Smith5 years ago in Fiction
The Assassin's Shade
I never thought I would be back here. The memory of this place is so painful that I swore I would leave this part of my life far behind me and never look back. It’s one of the few lessons I learned from the Faction that I still hold close to my chest. Never relive the past.
By Nicole Maridan5 years ago in Fiction
The Return of the Barn Owl
It was the winter of 2015 when I lost my father. I grieved heavily over him and suffered a tremendous pain. Both anger and chaos flamed thru my family like a wildfire ablaze, and we never seemed to be on the same page. We begin to grow distant then apart from one another, and it lingered like a bad smell in the air. As the months grew colder anxiety and depression covered me like a wool blanket, just like several other winters that went by. And it changed me in ways I thought would never change in me. I longed deeply for my father each day, yet I longed for strength even more!
By Angelicia Glaze5 years ago in Fiction
