Story Snippets!

Chatterbox: Inkwell

Story Snippets!

Story Snippets!

Post random parts that don’t fit anywhere in an actual story, or story ideas that aren’t actually going anywhere right now. I’ll (hopefully) post something when the thread comes up. 

submitted by Sempreverde
(June 3, 2024 - 5:26 am)
submitted by to the bottom..
(June 3, 2024 - 2:36 pm)
submitted by it can top!
(June 3, 2024 - 11:08 pm)

Ooh, I love this idea! I have TONS of stories that I've neve finished. Most of them are from when I was really young, so they aren't very good, but I think some of them are alright. Here's one:

The dungeon was a dark and dreary place. It was also the only room in the castle that didn't have a glorious chandelier. It wasn't a place anyone wanted to be- except for a single person. In fact, there was no place this single person would rather be. 

She walked quickly, struggling to not stare at the pitiful prisoners behind the bars. They watched her curiously, wondering what could bring her to such a horrible spot. She tried to only take short glances at their filthy faces. Sh found it extremely difficult to do so. She spent most of her time with important nobles, clothed in luxurious garments. She hardly ever saw people wearing rags, as these unfortuanate prisoners were.

She eventually made it to a place where the cells were empty. Noise became scarce, except for the occasional dripping of water or scurrying rat. Her pace quickened as she neared the end. Although she walked fast, she was sure her nervous heart beat faster. A guard ahead caught her eye.

"Stop right there, Woman!" he bellowed. "The last criminal is the most dangerous and, unless you want to be killed, I suggest you run!" As a response, the hooded maiden calmly snapped her fingers,sending a flicker of light throughout the hall. The guard immediately dropped to the ground and began to snore. 

The woman pulled the smallest key from the silver ring on his belt and tried it on the last cell. To her great relief, it fit. She struggled to push open the heavy door with her petite arms, heaving a sigh of relief.  

"Piper? Is that you?" The prisoner inside gawked in astonishment at the woman. 

"Yes, Carlos. It's me," she replied, dropping the key in her happiness. The two wrapped each other in a heartfelt embrace. Piper softly cried into her long-lost love's cheek. As he felt her tears, he, to, began to weep. They spent a long time like that, hugging each other, without a care in the world. They saved that joyful memory into their minds forever. Although they knew they might never see each other again, the two clung to each other as if the world was about to end. Neither said a thing, and yet still, neither relised when the guard outside began to stir until he had already noticed the key, locked the door, and called for help from his authorities. Then, and only then, did the two lovers notice that they were trapped and had no way out.

submitted by Morgana le Fay, age 1st year, Hogwarts
(June 4, 2024 - 2:41 pm)

I have one suggestion here right now. In the second paragraph, you could try not to make almost all the sentences start with “she”. It’s a little repetitive.

submitted by Sempreverde
(June 4, 2024 - 11:27 pm)

OOh, I don't know how I didn't catch that! Ty.

submitted by Morgana le Fay
(June 5, 2024 - 2:54 pm)

Here’s a little snippet that doesn’t go anywhere. It was a random idea on the way home from school, and names are not final.


 Story Snippets!


   “It’s me”, you sob, “it’s me, Zara!”. The girl’s eyes flash brown. A horrified look passes over her face, and for a moment, it’s Lily again, your Lily. But all good things must come to an end, and this one is no exception. The kind brown eyes you knew so well are once again swallowed by the empty sea of white and she lunges, daggers out, for your face. Fear overcomes you, and you collapse on the ground, as still as a soulless corpse.

   Kiyoko bolted upright in bed, tears coursing down her cheeks, gasping for air as she remembered the events of her dream. There’d been two girls, one with brown hair and empty white eyes, the other with black hair and curious green eyes. Kiyoko’s consciousness had hovered over them for a few seconds, before diving into the body of the black-haired girl. They had been fighting when the brown-haired girl’s eyes had flashed brown, before the white flooded her eyes again and she lunged for her opponent. That was when the dream had ended, leaving Kiyoko’s real self in bed, puzzled and nervous.  

submitted by Sempreverde
(June 4, 2024 - 11:31 pm)

Great idea! Of course I'm open to feedback, as always.

Chapter 1:

Thick rusty dust swirled around Kaede as the cart slammed to a stop, the momentum nearly throwing her off and immediately startling her awake. The horses whinnied nervously, tossing the manes and rearing up as if something blocked their path. The sky was dark with a heavy reddish-brown tint, and an irony musk permeated the air. She squinted, coughing as she cautiously dismounted. Just what was going on? In all her years with these horses, they had never given her problems without reason, and something told her it wasn't just the strange mist that bothered them. 

She couldn't shake the tension from her body even as she laid foot upon solid ground. Something was not right. It was quiet. Too quiet. She, of all people, knew the noises of the forest too well to feel safe in that moment of eerie silence. Her muscles clasped and unclasped, ready for action, even as she soothed her beasts. She would be foolish not to notice something amiss, for their nostrils flared and eyes looked wide and startled. Nothing stirred, but for the heavy breath and hoof-clops of the skittish horses shifting around.

Suddenly a piercing cry sounded to her right. It wasn't a human voice. And it was from high in the air, as if up in a tree. A heavy thud followed it, something crashing to the ground. Dead. Her horses nickered, almost desperately, as if begging to be left alone. Kaede hastily shushed them, head swirling with thoughts, fingers slipping to their harnesses. A low growl drifted up from behind them. She stepped aside as the buckles slid cleanly off, pointing the pair in separate directions. 

“Go.” They immediately shot off, relieved to be dismissed. She could only hope she hadn't sent the beasts galloping to their deaths. The cart could be replaced; it was something she had fashioned on her own, after all. The horses, though? Not so easily. She took a deep breath, realising the same was true for her own life. They would need a blessing if they were all to be able to reunite after this. She cursed softly, gingerly stepping off the path and doing her best to muffle her footsteps. Every few steps she would halt, listening. There was just silence again.

Then, there was a burst of movement and everything went dark. 


Chapter 2:

It was only for a moment that Kaede's vision smarted after regaining conciousness. Immediately a fierce ache throbbed through her head and she lowered it back to the ground. Something had hit her, and hard. Keeping her head low, she peered around. There was a figure standing a ways away from her. At first she thought it was a woman, but when it turned its head she couldn't help but gasp. What was that? It did indeed resemble a human woman until halfway up its face, but above the powdered skin and vibrant red-stained mouth sat a bouquet of large flowers splattered in what appeared to be blood. At the centre of the bouquet peeked a large eyeball, far larger than should have been possible, and it now glared, fixed right on her. She flinched, frozen in fear. She couldn't pull herself up, and her head pulsed in hot pain. There was no getting out of this. 

As if sensing her thoughts, a blistering boom rang out. It sounded just like a “thunder-flower,” a kyoī-no-hana¹, she had once seen at a festival in Hua Ning². A man's triumphant shout followed it, and its strangely-clad owner appeared from between the trees. The thing screeched, apparently hit, and scuttled off on all fours, with him chasing after it. A second man trailed after, seeming to survey the area, looking for something. When he saw Kaede stir, he quickly hurried over. 

“Ah, please have a look at this…” He fumbled around in his sleeve before pulling out a bottle of what Kaede realised were cha-bo³, matchsticks. He struck one upon the special strip on the side of the bottle and held it in front of her face. “Can you tell me what this is?”

“...Cha-bo?” The man looked baffled. This, in turn puzzled Kaede, hazy as her mind was. Was her knowledge that surprising? Sure, cha-bo weren't particularly common in Eiwa⁴, especially not in these parts, but they were a fairly well-known technology of Hua Ning. 

“Uh, let's try this again…” He repeated his question with a new match. This confused Kaede yet more. “The cha-ri⁵? Or cha-bo? What exactly is it you're asking me?” She was starting to get annoyed, and would really rather this man go and get some help. “Would you mind going to the nearest village and-”

“It doesn't work on you…?” The man mumbled, staring at her. Noticing her wary gaze, he startled. “Ah, yes, you must need help, right… But…” The main trailed off, seemingly lost in thought, “Here, can you walk?” Kaede nodded, getting to her feet with effort. Her head was still pounding and her vision darkened as she righted herself. He offered her to lean on him, a proposal which she reluctantly accepted. It was a while before they spoke again. “I must apologise for the injury,” He motioned to her head, “My companion is not exactly… The most considerate.” Kaede bit back a noise of agreement, and kept her eyes forward, a wave of relief washing over her as she saw the glow of a village not far ahead. She straightened herself and drew away from the stranger, and he seemed to understand the gesture, despite looking more like a daiwa-go⁶. She was pleasantly surprised. It was not everyday that a daiwa-go bothered to practise eiwa-go reigi⁷.


¹ - literally “thunder/danger flower,” is an expression for a type of rocket

² - Hua Ning (lit: “blossom/prosper land/place”) is a nation on the mainland. It is a fairly large and prosperous state in the Zhong Yao (lit: “naval/centre”) region

³ - A type of ‘matchstick’ invented in the Zhong Yao region, most likely in Hua Ning

⁴ - Eiwa (lit: “sun land”), is an archipelago off the coast of the Zhong Yao region

⁵ - literally “fire-blade,” refers to a flame

⁶ - Daiwa (lit: “big land”) refers to the mainland, particularly the Zhong Yao region, and “-go” roughly means “person from” 

⁷ - “eiwa-go reigi” (lit: Eiwa-people's custom/etiquette/propriety*) *roughly, because it's hard to translate “reigi”

submitted by Jaybells, Lost, somewhere
(June 5, 2024 - 1:11 pm)

An old one rewritten lol


A cold wind tore seemingly endlessly that night, howling as if a prelude to the storm that was bound to consume the empire* by the following morning.

Deaf were were the two figures facing each other, however, to the cacophony outside. There was nothing but heavy, darkened silence—save for a faint hum and teal neon glow typical of the Advanced’s laboratory. Their eyes locked; steely golden-river-dust against desperate cherry-blossom.

"You can't be serious about this," The latter whisper-shouted in disbelief, earning but a light, half-amused lip-quirk from the other. Her unflinching eyes betrayed her coldness.

A long time ago, this would've worked. She'd have meekly lowered her head, tail between her legs; a barely-audible apology slipping from her lips. But things had changed since then. Eula was no longer a pitiful little beggar, wandering the streets; nor was she the poor, weak girl desperate for an esteemed young lady's whimsical favour. No, she was her own person. She knew her value. She would no longer be bossed around.

"Lala!" Annoyance laced her voice, but it quickly melted into a more soothing tone, "Lala… I think you're a little confused right now. Step awaaay" she drew that out, as if speaking to a child, "from the control pad. You see all those buttons? They're dangerous, Lala. You don't want to touch those! Somebody is trying to trick you into playing with them is all-



"No, Bitty. I said no. I wasn't tricked into this, I'm not confused." Her voice remained level, composed, "This is my choice." My choice matters.

Bitty seemed taken aback for a moment, speechless. "Well, uh, why… Why don't we head back now, La-"

"I can't do that."

"Can't? Why, of course you can! Who would stand up against-"

"I think you misunderstand. By 'I can't,' I mean 'I won't,' Bitty." The air itself seemed to tense around them, even the hum of machinery too intimidated to call attention to itself. It seemed Bitty finally realised that something was up. "I mean it." There was no going back. 

"Wh-why are you doing this?" A peel of sobs burst from Bitty, "Why are you doing this to me? Really, why?" Her brows scrunched together awkwardly, as if she was confused as to whether she should be angrily commanding or putting on a pitiful act in this moment. 

Eula barked out a quick laugh.  "Quit playing around. It's over. Bridget." The figurative slap left Bitty stunned, genuine tears forming in her eyes. A lowly peasant, much less an outcast like Eula, did not just call a Lady by their real name. Just where had this all gone wrong?

"D-did, did you- You did not just-" She tongue-fumbled in fury. Eula watched on for a moment before in three long strides coming face-to-face with the woman she once loved – now flinched back in trepidation. She ignored the expected "What are you doing"s and grabbed Bitty's cloak-collar, only letting go after an odd grey carved-on slat clattered to the floor. She grabbed it, then turned on her heel and reapproached the panel.

How reckless, Eula thought, quickly bypassing all systems with a few strokes as Bitty, floored, grew paler and paler by the second. "You… Lala, you don't mean to-"

Eula smirked, lit ominously by the now scarlet-glowing interface swallowing the lab. Bitty surged forward, eyes fixed on the last button of the sequence, a big red 'confirm?' button. A soft 'click' beneath Eula's finger. Bitty was too late. 

Sickening silence washed over the pair before-

KABOOM! A deafening wave rent reality for a split-second, pulsing through rock and metal and air alike, as if they were melted butter, and it a hungry monster raring to get in. 

Then, just as soon as it had begun, it stopped—the silence stinging.

Eula had disappeared, and Bitty lay alone, vision blurring as the historic laboratory crumbled around her.

submitted by Jaybells, Lost, somewhere
(June 5, 2024 - 7:03 pm)

I read this (or something like it) on an old Prompt Exchange thread! That reminds me! This can also be a thread for sharing prompts.

submitted by Sempreverde
(June 5, 2024 - 11:25 pm)

I want to know more!!

submitted by Blossom
(June 7, 2024 - 7:30 pm)

Ah, yes, story snippets. I tend to jot down scenes of my oc's interacting that end up never being used in the plot, so here's one of passable quality:

Chapter 1: The Incident

The forest was dark. The night was dark. And even the moon was solemmly dark, its pale face obscured by a veil of smoky clouds. It was that type of night where you were better off with a blindfold than a map. 

The convoy had neither, because they were the military. What they had instead was a dozen of highly sophisticated vehicle-mounted instruments aggressively monitoring the status of every animal, plant, and rock that was in the three-mile radius of the off-roaders inching their way through the wild and computers constantly calculating whether it posed a threat to the mission or not, and an array of ‘self-defensive’ weaponry that could flatten a town in a few minutes.

This was not any normal mission. This was a top secret transportation mission. One that had been ensured wouldn’t go wrong halfway.

The bulky commanding general in the equally bulky center command vehicle glanced over the shoulder of the radar operator, tapping his boot on the floor. “You see anything, Jefferson?”

“Nosir.” The operator replied, his nervous face reflecting the green light from the screens- the only source of light in the car. “Only foxes and rabbits. And a deer.”

Deer. The general mused about this half-heartedly. He hadn’t had went for the big game in ages, and he could sure use a spot of venison. A part of him itched to light a cigarette. He pushed it away. “Deer, you say?”

“Yes sir, deer. A whole flock.” Jefferson said, his eyes not moving from the screen. “Been following the path for a long time, them.”

“Better not be agents in disguise, then. You know how jealous the Quantals have gotten these days ever since our scientists devised this solution.” The general joked, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.

“No, probably not sir. There’s a creek long’ these parts, I heard.” The operator said. “I wager that they goin’ for a drink. There’s a wolf behind them though.”

“Ah.” The general grunted. “They want a drink, he wants a meal.” 

There was a short silence in the car. The operator shifted uncomfortably and wiped his brow with a sleeve. “Seems rather strange that they let us escort a vial of the stuff. Why don’t they do it themselves?”

“I haven’t a single idea.” The general said, shrugging. He thought back to his orders and reviewed them in his mind. It was simple. Get it from A to B without getting the solution lost or destroyed, done. “Orders from the top. You don’t ask them
unless they let you ask them.” He summarized lamely. “And they don’t.”

“Oh, ok sir.” Jefferson nodded. “Just…seems a bit over the head with all these precautions, isn’t it?” He motioned at the dozens of screens and controls.

The general sighed. “If they say we need them, we need them.” He threw another glance at the screen, and at the various dots moving across it. “It’s like…deer. Keep your head up, and you’ll have a better chance when you run into wolves.”

Little did they know that they didn’t have a better chance. The night rather eliminated any chance for them.

Wolves learn to know when deer keep their head up after all, and just because you don’t see them on a radar screen doesn’t mean they aren’t waiting. In fact, one in particular had been waiting for quite some time.

A youth in loose white clothing was leaning against a tree, eyes half-closed in meditation. His flowing hair wisped silently in the breeze, and if it wasn’t for the slight movements of his chest indicative of his breathing, he might have been mistaken for a statue with realistic hair.

“You know what to do, I’m sure, but I’ll just go over the basics again for both our sakes,” A cool voice glided out of the  transponder clasped in the youth’s hand. “Retrieve what we need, get back here before three in the morning, and make sure that they know we did it.”

“Yes, doctor.” The youth answered to the receiver flatly, his voice betraying no emotion whatsoever.

“Good.” The voice said smugly. “I’ll be waiting for your updates.” There was a bleep as the call cut off.

The youth opened his unnatural lime-green eyes, leaned back against the tree he was hiding behind and breathed deeply, inhaling the cool night air oozing through the forest. He liked the night. It gave him a sense of protection, a sense  of reassurance. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, unlike most. Nature was his cover, and today it had come in the form of thick trees and shadows. 

Amidst the chirruping of cicadas and the song of nightingales, his sensitive hearing caught the dim humming of quite a few engines approaching. His forehead creased slightly. These military men never had a sense of stealth.

He flicked his wrist. A mechanical chink-chink-chink
sound accompanied his movement, a sharp blade extending. Its razor edge almost gleaming in the darkness. He wiped it self-consciously and turned to face the path.

In a blink of an eye, the youth was gone from the tree.

When the screams and the sputtering of machinery and the fires and explosions faded, what was left of the convoy was a smoldering, charred mess of ashes, the wreckage ridden with crossbow bolts and the occasional lump of twisted metal, clean-cut gashes staring out from them like gaping wounds. Jefferson desperately crawled backwards away from the torched remnants of the car he had been in, a hand to his mouth as he tried to stop his body from trembling  uncontrollably. His eyes were fixed on the figure rummaging about in a wreck of the car in front of him. His instinct was telling him to get up and run, but his legs were floppy and useless. He whimpered a bit when the figure straightened and looked him in the eye, readjusting his grip around the sword in one hand.

“H-hold up there!” He began, curling up in fear as the attacker began to walk in his direction, air as calm as someone who had just taken a walk in the park. “D-d-don’t you come a step closer!” His hand found a piece of twisted aluminium and brandished it tremblingly in front of him. Less of brave resistance, more of a feeble effort of his short-circuited mind attempting to pretend that what had occured just now was a bad dream.

The attacker stopped a dozen steps away from the operator who was currently on the verge of a stroke, but not because he heeded his words. Both turned their heads as a pained moan came from another wreck a few meters away.

The youth sighed an inaudible sigh and raised an arm in the direction of the sound. Jefferson could have sworn he kept his eyes open for the whole time, yet all he saw was a streak of silver shoot out from his sleeve.

There was an ominous thunk as another crossbow bolt that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere found its intended target. The moan was cut short. Jefferson gulped, sweat beading down his forehead.

The youth lowered his arm with no change of expression and focused back on the radar operator. He held up the item he had found in the wreck and waved it in front of Jefferson.
It was a vial of transparent, neon blue liquid, sloshing around as his hand moved. There was a label stuck to the side, once white and clean, now charred black by the fire. ‘…-SOL18’ were the only legible words.

“The head of the scientists’ guild sends his regards.” He said simply.

Then he was gone, leaving the charred convoy in silence. 

submitted by Zealatom, Eye of the Inkstorm
(June 6, 2024 - 9:29 am)

This is the backstory of one of the characters in a story I'm planning.

Young Fearless (whose parents had named her Faith, not because they were religious but because they’d been married in Santa Fe) had grown up in a little town called Dorris. It was a border town, right on the edge of California. Perhaps it wasn’t completely a border town; instead of having neighbors like Chula Vista and Calexico, it had neighbors like Tulelake and Hilt and Keno. Keno was in Oregon; Dorris clung to the north edge of California. Its main street was US Highway 97, but few tourists came, and it was right on a major railroad right-of-way, but few trains ever stopped. It was a city just because there wasn’t much surrounding it; its population, when Fearless lived there, was 939. Which was too small, for her. She liked to watch the cars and the trains go by, bound for Medford or Bend or Yakima or even Canada in one direction, or Redding or Red Bluff or Yuba City or Sacramento or even San Francisco or Los Angeles in another. The passenger trains, she knew, went to Klamath Falls or Dunsmuir, and then to Seattle or Los Angeles. She wanted to go places.
Unfortunately, her parents wanted to stay right there, and they wanted her to stay right there, too. However, this notion died with them when Fearless was thirteen years old and sick at home with a mild cold. It was good she’d been sick. Her parents were in a car crash. It was a bad one. Neither lived. Fearless grieved deeply for them, and felt as though perhaps she should follow her parents to wherever the dead go.
Fearless was an only child of only children whose parents had died young. She had no next-of-kin, and would have been placed in the Siskiyou County foster-care system if not for the keen eyes of a social worker named Mildred Snifter. Ms. Snifter, who Fearless came to call Ms. Sniffy, pretended to be the director of a group home, made legal arrangements, introduced herself to Fearless, and then sent her an envelope full of documents, including tickets, timetables, and maps, and, most exciting of all, a letter:
Dear Faith Byrne,
You are going to a boarding school for children who will become spies. It’s in San Francisco.
I’m not going to get you there.
This is a test.
Mildred Snifter

Fearless didn’t know why she’d become a spy, but she was very good at codes, and telling if people were lying. So, she cobbled together a plan from the papers in the envelope, packed her possessions into a 50-liter hiking backpack, and waited for a train. Then, as she jumped onto it, she had the most terrifying and exciting moment of her life happen. It was only the first in a waterfall of them, but as she leaned out the door of the Union Pacific freight car full of Willamette Valley apples bound for points south, she felt that her life was truly beginning.
And her life kept going, as she told the Amtrak employees that Mildred Snifter was her legal guardian, and watched all early morning in her Coachclass seat, seeing the bright lights of Dunsmuir and Redding and Chico and Sacramento and Davis and Martinez and Emeryville. And she crossed her first Bay Area bridge alone on a bus, and found the building that would be her home on her own.
She kept living. And soon, she saw brighter and brighter lights, those of LA and New York and London and Tokyo, but she liked the Bay Area. So she went to live in San Francisco and founded a spy agency for adults, not children, since she didn’t want to do the troublesome things with guardianship papers that Sniffy had had to do.
And that was how she came to be herself.

submitted by Seadragon
(June 7, 2024 - 4:53 pm)

this is part of a story i've been writing for a whilllee:


The early-morning sky was thick with fog, the air rich and wet like always after a storm. It had rained all night, white slashes across Cassie’s window, those hearty Minnesota spring storms she remembered all too well. It had been hard to sleep, not because of the torrent, but because of the memories.

But today, the storm was over, leaving a fading handprint on the purple-grey land. Birds flitted from tree to tree, and the sun had begun to crest the horizon, the tiniest whisper of orange-pink. Cassie was barefoot and dressed in the oversized T-shirt and plaid shorts she’d worn to sleep, toenails the baby blue Miri had painted them last night. Cassie didn’t want her nails painted–we’ll be working on a farm. It isn’t practical. But Miri had shook her head, all golden curls and emerald eyes. I just want to feel normal today, Cassie, please. They used to paint each other’s nails when they were kids, watching TV and eating popcorn, experts in multitasking.

Cassie hadn’t been to the riverbank yet. The evening before had been full of hugs and tears and eating the apple pie her mother had baked, as if fleeing college to avoid a dangerous disease was a cause for celebration. Cassie had no moment to escape, not a second to shake off the shackles of the world and the people around her here. But now, with everyone still asleep, she could. Down the hill and over that stretch of dewy grass, and…there she was.

The riverbank was beautiful in the mist, mysterious and yet welcoming. Home. As she stared out at the water as it pooled around the rocks and flowed farther than her eye could trace, Cassie could not say how old she was. Six, ten, thirteen, twenty. All her years merged together here, on the grass, toes barely grazing the cool trickle. Everything was sacred and peaceful and calm and quiet. 

Until it wasn’t.

“Cassie. Cassie!”

submitted by starry sky
(June 9, 2024 - 10:30 am)

well, this doesn't necessarily not fit anywhere (it's from a book I'm planning on publishing within the year), but I thought y'all might be interested :). hope the formatting shows up ok!



me the story again.”

            The mother’s eyes are pools of
crystal water. They reflect the dim sun’s light in twin crescents. Her pupils
shift toward the child, and the reflections blink away. “Which one?”

            “The one about the sky.”

            She blinks. “The Eclipse’s Chase?”
Absentmindedly she tucks the blanket closer around the child.

            Lysander blinks in return. “That.”

            The mother sighs, and her eyes turn
towards the heavens once more. Her lips part as she remembers. As the Third
Eclipse diminishes the sun to a slight curve of light, she begins.


the ages of light before our planet Eclares was full come to its might and
splendor, the sun shone unhindered, circling lazily at the peak of the sky.
Brave and bright it shone, revealing its face and gladness fully to the people

            But there came a time when the sun
shrank away suddenly, and the people were frightened by its upheaval. No longer
did it shine as brightly as it had in the beginning of days, but now it glowed
as a dim being, letting the stars around it show, just barely.

the reason for the sun’s fear revealed itself. A great chase was occurring in
the heavens. The largest moon of Eclares, Calthier, had grown jealous of the
smallest moon, Thaeёl, who showed her face beside the sun’s occasionally, and
he began to chase Thaeёl, designing to throw her into the darkness beyond the
moons’ orbit.

Calthier’s furious coming the second largest moon came in front of the sun,
Merrakier, who heralded the coming of the two moons and for a short time hid
half of the sun. He warned the sun of the great anger of Calthier, which was
the cause of its decision to back away from Eclares.

while later came Thaeёl, fleeing in fear from the wickedness of Calthier. So
fast was her flight and so small was she that not many saw her, and whoever did
only saw her for a short time.

came Calthier at last, and in his jealousy of the great sun, he nearly covered
it up entirely. But Merrakier, standing to the side, warded him away with his
words. Therefore the greatest moon didn’t block out the sun’s light entirely.
But he remained there for a long time, and this time of darkness was known as
Night, or the Time of Calthier.

Merrakier discussed between the two moons as a mediator, and after
congregation, they decided this: that so long as the sun was never covered up
entirely, all three moons would have a time to show themselves before the sun
in the sky.

so it has been since the beginning of time that the three moons, in the same
order, have gone before the sun and hidden it partially for a time. Merrakier
did not loiter before the sun, and only covered it halfway, while Calthier hid
the sun for the longest time of all, for he was always jealous of the other
celestial beings. However Thaeёl always was the fastest, for she was forever
haunted by Calthier’s might and desired to flee as quickly as she could.

that is how we have our times of day, as they have been for the longest time:
First Eclipse, Second Eclipse, and Third Eclipse.


sleeps now, his chest rising and falling slightly beneath the blankets. His
face is relaxed. Unmarred by fear.

mother watches as the sun is hidden by Calthier, not to reveal itself in its
entirety once more until a long time—twelve hours—has passed in darkness. The
stars flicker to life in the sky around the two celestial masses, glowing like
faint fireflies.

falls, and there is rest.

submitted by Ellesmere, Ord Mantell
(June 11, 2024 - 12:11 pm)

This is beautiful! I'm excited to see it published in a book, it definitely deserves it!

submitted by Jaybells, Lost, somewhere
(June 22, 2024 - 5:57 pm)