Tag: fantasy

Elara the Wandering Storyteller

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Once upon a time, a wandering storyteller named Elara lived in a land where the mountains kissed the sky and rivers sang gentle lullabies. With a heart full of dreams and a satchel overflowing with tales, she roamed from village to village, gathering experiences and sharing the rich tapestry of her stories. Elara’s journey began in a small village nestled between lush green hills. She discovered her love for storytelling there as she listened to the elders weave their narratives by the flickering firelight. Inspired, she decided to embark on a quest to collect stories from every corner of the realm.

She encountered many characters as she travelled: a wise old woman who spoke to the stars, a brave knight searching for his lost honour, and a mischievous fox who knew all the forest secrets. Each encounter enriched her collection, adding wisdom and wonder to her repertoire. While resting under a towering oak tree one day, Elara met a curious young girl named Lila. With sparkling eyes, Lila asked,

“What makes a story truly magical?”

Elara smiled, her heart warming at the question, and replied,

“A story becomes magical when it is shared with an open heart. It lives in the listener’s imagination, transforming with each telling.”

Intrigued, Lila asked if she could join Elara on her journey. The storyteller welcomed her with open arms, and together, they travelled through bustling markets, serene meadows, and enchanted forests, sharing tales that made people laugh, cry, and dream. As their bond grew, so did their understanding of the world. They learned that stories could heal wounds, bridge divides and ignite hope. In a village plagued by despair, Elara and Lila told tales of courage and resilience, reminding the villagers of their strength. Slowly, the village transformed as laughter replaced sorrow and dreams rekindled.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Elara and Lila found themselves at the edge of a shimmering lake. The water mirrored the colours of the sky, creating a breathtaking canvas. There, Elara shared her most cherished story—a tale of a phoenix that rose from its ashes, symbolizing rebirth and renewal. As she spoke, the flames of the campfire danced in rhythm with her words, and Lila felt a warmth inside her. She realized that storytelling was not just about sharing tales; it was about connecting souls, sparking imagination, and celebrating the beauty of life itself.

Years passed, and Elara became a legend in her own right, known far and wide as the wandering storyteller. But she never forgot the girl who had travelled with her, for Lila had grown into a gifted storyteller. Inspired by Elara, she took up the mantle, continuing the journey, weaving her own stories into the fabric of the world. And so, the legacy of the wandering storyteller lived on, a reminder that every tale told ignites a spark of magic, connecting hearts across time and space. 

The Wizard Who Chased Time

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Once upon a time, in a small village nestled between rolling hills and lush green meadows, lived a wizard named Doctor John. Unlike ordinary wizards who were content with casting spells and brewing potions, Doctor John possessed an insatiable curiosity about the mysteries of time. From a young age, he had been fascinated by the concept of time and its ever-elusive nature. He often found himself pondering questions such as,

“Where does time go?” and “Can we ever catch up with time?”

These thoughts consumed his mind day and night, leaving him with an unquenchable desire to chase after time itself. One sunny morning, while strolling through the village, Doctor John stumbled upon an ancient book hidden in the depths of a dusty old bookstore.

The book was bound in weathered leather and emanated an aura of magic. As he opened its pages, a burst of shimmering light enveloped him, transporting him to a realm where time was tangible. In this enchanted world, time manifested as a radiant, glowing entity, dancing and swirling in the air. His eyes widened with awe as he watched the magical spectacle unfold before him. Determined to chase time and uncover its secrets, he embarked on an exhilarating quest. Doctor John soon discovered that chasing time was no easy feat. Time darted and weaved through the forest, slipping through his fingers like sand. Undeterred, he summoned his magical abilities and conjured a magnificent timepiece to aid him in his pursuit.

With each swoop and swirl, he tried to close the gap between himself and time. As he ventured deeper into the mystical forest, he encountered a mischievous fairy named Luna. She had heard of his quest and decided to join him on his adventure. Together, they traversed treacherous terrains, battled formidable creatures, and solved riddles left by ancient guardians. His determination and Luna’s cleverness formed an unstoppable duo. During their journey, Doctor John and Luna encountered various villagers whose lives were directly influenced by time. They met an elderly woman who yearned for more time to spend with her loved ones, a young artist who wished to capture the essence of time in her paintings, and a group of children who dreamed of slowing down time to savour every moment of their youth. Moved by these encounters, he realized that the beauty of time lay not in capturing it, but in cherishing the moments it offered. He understood that time was not something to be chased but something to be embraced.

With this newfound wisdom, Doctor John knew his quest had transformed into a mission to help others appreciate the value of time. Returning to the village, he used his magical powers to create a magnificent clock tower in the heart of the community. The clock tower became a symbol of time’s preciousness, reminding everyone to make the most of each passing second. Now an old man, he shared his experiences and the lessons learned, inspiring the villagers to live each day to the fullest. And so, the tale of the wizard who chased time turned into a story of wisdom and enlightenment. Doctor John’s quest may not have led him to physically catch time, but it led him to a deeper understanding of its significance. From that day forward, he dedicated himself to helping others cherish every moment, teaching them that the true magic of time lies within their hearts.

Book cover and images by http://www.gillsplace.com

Crach Ffinnant – Volume 2 – Abstract Rise of the Dragon

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The King of ancient Gwynedd ceased fiddling with his beard and called across to the dragons. Raising a hand towards the greatest of dragons beckoned encouragement.

“Tan-y-Mynedd, the table is yours, my old friend.”

Tan-y-Mynedd sat on his huge haunches, fluttered loosely folded wings and shook his head. Flaring those rather unpredictable nostrils, his proud chest expanded, taking in the deepest of breaths.

As the great dragon inhaled, everybody, including the other dragons, ducked to seek cover. The large goblin disappeared within a flash under the grand oak table, tankards and food flew precariously in every conceivable direction. Carron and his friend took to flight, joining the other ravens perched high upon an outcrop on the cave wall above our heads. The eagle spread his enormous wings and in three sharp flaps, alighted to accompany the ravens. Needless to say, a slight squawking of discontent and fluttering of wings welcomed their elder. Fwynedd and the elven seer joined the goblin under the table, also accompanied by several dwarves, including me. It was only those from the other world that did not flinch. Math Fab Mathonwy, Myrddin Goch ap Cwnwrig, and Llwyd ap Crachan Llwyd, remained in their seats, amused by the spectacle unfurling. Tan-y-Mynedd gasped, uttered a slight cough and very slowly exhaled. He surprised us all as he controlled the whirlwind gusts he usually created, thus no damage was done, save for the flying food.

The great dragon exploded into uncontrollable laughter. Within no time, everybody scrambled from under the table, attempting to return to their seats with as much grace as the situation would allow. We all joined him in seeing the funny side of our chaotic bid for cover. The eagle returned, landing on the branch of one of the Tree Folk. Carron and his friend fluttered down from the outcrop of rock, alighting gently on a chair close to Tan-y-Mynedd. Fwynedd regained his composure and gently assisted the Elven seer to maintain her dignity by lifting her light body back onto the seat. By now, the entire cave echoed with the sound of goodhearted laughter.

“You see, I can control myself when I am of a mind to do so!” Tan-y-Mynedd laughed again. “You always think there will be disaster when I prepare to speak. Well, my friends, the only disaster is with you for thinking such in the first place.” He laughed again, as did everybody else. “And now, we have had enough frivolity, it is to business.” Tan-y-Mynedd paused.

Calmness and silence eroded the humour which had now dissipated within the ether, replaced by attention and focus to the duty confronting this ancient Great Council of Blue Stone.

“We are familiar with all we need to be familiar with. We know storm clouds linger on the horizon and the English are behind such inclemency in our Kingdom. We will not waste time with whys and wherefores as we are beyond such trivialities.” A murmur of agreement whipped up a stir from the listeners, but a cursory snort from the great snout of Tan-y-Mynedd soon silenced them. “To continue, if I may be permitted?” He snorted again. “All is now in place, as predicted by ‘The Prophecy’. Owain Glyndwr is, as we speak, receiving news of yet more betrayal from Henry. He who sits on the black throne rules unfairly, and Glyndwr will no longer endure lies and deceit. In twenty-one months, as the clouds continue to gather before the great storm, the sun will blaze across our land, and our Prince in Waiting will at last take his rightful place.” Tan-y-Mynedd flared his nostrils, but this time, nobody moved a whisker. Spreading his wings and standing erect, he inhaled forcefully. “The rise of the dragon!” He exclaimed. Everybody applauded, banged fists and tankards on the table, cheering in agreement. It was at that moment, Tan-y-Mynedd sneezed!

The Devotees – Abstract

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EARTH

Once upon a time, in a tranquil village nestled amidst lush meadows and rolling hills, there lived a remarkable woman named Lila. Lila possessed an extraordinary connection with the Earth, transcending the ordinary bounds of human existence. She was drawn to the natural world from a young age, finding solace and inspiration in every facet.

Lila’s affinity for the Earth was evident in her daily rituals. As dawn painted the sky with hues of gold, she would rise barefoot to greet the rising sun. With each step she took, she could feel the pulse of the Earth beneath her feet, as though it whispered ancient secrets only she could comprehend. Lila would spend hours tending to her garden, nurturing delicate blossoms and cultivating vibrant vegetables.

Her hands seemed to possess an innate understanding of the soil’s needs as if the Earth itself guided her movements. Beyond her garden, Lila’s devotion to the Earth extended to the larger world. She would embark on long walks through the woods, tracing the intricate patterns of sunlight filtering through the foliage. She would listen intently to the rustle of leaves, feeling the rhythm of the wind as it danced through the branches.

Lila would often sit beneath the sheltering embrace of a mighty oak, her heart beating in tune with the Earth’s pulse. In these moments, she would offer her gratitude and prayers, whispering words of reverence for the beauty and abundance bestowed upon her. Word of Lila’s connection with the Earth spread throughout the village, captivating the hearts and minds of its inhabitants. They witnessed the bountiful harvests from her garden, the vibrant flora that adorned her home, and the serenity that emanated from her very being. Some began to seek her counsel, seeking guidance on how to nurture their own connection with the Earth. Lila embraced each person with open arms, imparting her wisdom and encouraging them to listen to the Earth’s whispers.

As seasons passed, however, Lila noticed a change in the world around her. The meadows that once bloomed with wildflowers began to wither, and the once-clear streams turned murky. The Earth’s bountiful gifts started to dwindle, leaving Lila with a heavy heart. She could feel the Earth’s distress; an ache mirrored her own. Driven by her unwavering love, Lila resolved to restore her beloved Earth to its former glory.

She gathered the villagers, sharing her vision of a sustainable future, one in which they would nurture and protect the Earth they depended upon. Together, they planted trees, erected rainwater harvesting systems, and established community gardens. Lila’s voice became a beacon of hope, inspiring others to rekindle their connection with the Earth and become stewards of the land. Years passed, and the village transformed into a vibrant oasis of sustainable living. The meadows once again burst forth with wildflowers, and the streams flowed crystal clear. Nature flourished, and the villagers thrived in harmony with the Earth. Lila’s devotion sparked a movement, a testament to the power of a single individual’s love for the Earth.

As Lila sat beneath her favourite oak tree in her twilight years, she reflected on her journey. She had dedicated her life to the Earth, and in return, the Earth had gifted her with purpose, fulfilment, and a deep sense of belonging. Lila’s legacy endured through the generations as the village and its inhabitants continued to honour and protect the Earth. As Lila’s time on this earthly plane drew to a close, the villagers gathered to express their gratitude and bid her farewell. They spoke of her unwavering dedication, her gentle spirit, and the profound impact she had made on their lives. Lila smiled, her eyes reflecting the wisdom and contentment of a life well-lived. On that final day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Lila closed her eyes one last time, surrendering her spirit to the embrace of the Earth she had cherished so deeply.

The villagers mourned her passing but found solace in the knowledge that her legacy would live on, carried within their hearts and woven into the very fabric of their community. And so, the story of the woman who worshipped the Earth became a legend, whispered among the generations that followed. The tale reminded them of the profound connection between humanity and nature, of the importance of stewardship and reverence for the world that sustains us all. From that day forward, the villagers vowed to continue Lila’s work, to nurture the Earth and keep her memory alive. They recognized that the Earth was not merely a provider of resources but a living entity deserving of respect and love.

Lila’s legacy became a guiding light, inspiring others far and wide to cultivate their own relationships with the Earth and to embrace the responsibility of being its custodians. And so, the story of Lila, the woman who worshipped the Earth, continues to ripple through time, reminding us of the profound beauty and interconnectedness of all life. May her devotion serve as a reminder that, in our own unique ways, we, too, can forge a deep bond with the Earth, becoming guardians and advocates for the precious planet we call home!

The Hermit and the Dog Wolf Abstract

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It was many miles to the valley below, though walking down the scree-covered mountainside was much easier than coming up it. Tired feet were a little sore because his shoes, being nearly as old as he was, were not all that comfortable. The soles had worn very thin, so small stones on the pathway tended to dig through and pinch his feet and toes while walking. Eventually, he reached the main path towards the forest, some two or three miles from the village where his destiny awaited a timely arrival. Tired legs trudged across a most uneven forest floor, calves aching with every step. Such discomfort in his legs always stole the beautiful sounds of the forest from his mind. The trees were tall and often so close together that they hindered progress. As he attempted to negotiate a way through a path strewn with roots, stumbling and nearly falling flat on his face, he heard the howl and whining of a wolf in the distance. Instinctively coming to an abrupt halt, the old man dropped to his haunches. Leaning down rather precariously, he used his right arm to support himself against an old oak tree. Again, he heard the howl, but this time, it seemed closer than before. Suddenly, through the undergrowth off to his right, he watched in awe as bushes and bracken parted with force. A huge dog-wolf stood in front of him.

The dog-wolf was huge with big blue eyes sunk into a deep-set stare. The old man and the dog-wolf stared at each other, their eyes met neither showing any sign of fear, not a flinch of muscle nor a wisp of hair moved between them. Motionlessly he stared into the wolf’s eyes and thought how frightened this beast of the forest seemed but how beautiful and majestic in his fear. His huge, sleek body hunched forward into a defensive stance. Massive paws and strong muscular front legs dug several inches into the forest floor, which allowed some idea of how heavy he was. A vast mouth quivered, snarling and slavering as great white fangs captured the old man’s attention. His slobbering tongue dribbled spittle on the forest floor as the wolf, standing ground, shook his great head from side to side. Hermit kept perfectly still. He did not even allow the sound of breath to rise from his chest.

The arm that supported him against the tree felt slightly strained from holding his body perfectly still; tired muscles twitched in spasm. The dog-wolf stood his ground, digging huge paws deeper into the earth. Around his great thick neck, a black and golden ruff was imprisoned in a thick leather collar. Attached to the collar was a heavy linked chain. The dog-wolf must have dragged these chains of bondage for miles through the forest. From wherever he had come, and no matter how many miles he may have travelled, these chains of bondage travelled with him. The free end of the heavy chain lay on the ground, and Hermit could not help but notice a dead tree stump caught in the chain links, adding to the weight this beautiful animal dragged on his escape. 

The dog-wolf was obviously tired, worn out and very frightened, and his beautiful body was covered in blood from old scars that had opened and new wounds which ripped at the muscular body as he charged through the forest. His chest was heaving with breathlessness, and an empty, lean stomach stuck to the bony rib cage, which protruded through his flesh.

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