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Sorry for the spam :B
This is a little prose piece I'm working on for myarmcanfly, concerning the FUTURE! for Kyu and her character Rom. Actually, the surrounding plot is really just a vehicle for the fable within the story, but that's not important XD
I realize this won't make very much sense to anyone else, but I rather like it, so I'm going to post it. This is the first half of the whole story. I'll post the second half when I finish it XD
The Fox-Thief was a teller of tales, a spinner of words with the power to make truth from lies and cause grown men to weep and repent for sins they hadn't known they'd committed. In the First Days, the Dark Dreaming Days, he'd traded stories for meat at the Wolf's fire and charmed the Crow down from her mountain stronghold. He'd spoken into life gods and legends, and had given mankind its first scraps of folklore. He told all kinds of stories, in all shapes and sizes and species. It was a skill more valuable to him than his thieving, though he would never admit it. He'd had little cause to use it in recent days.
Of course, he hadn't counted on the Rockstar dying.
It came as no surprise to him that he was dead. His Rockstar was mortal, after all, and mortals had a perplexing tendency to die less than a decade after birth from age, of all things. The Rockstar was no different. He had lived a good long life and died an old, old man, and when his span of years was up, he had died. So the Fox-Thief was not so much surprised that he was dead, as he was disappointed. He had kept hope right up until the end that somehow, the Rockstar would not die - that he was not human at all, perhaps, or that he would ask at last for a potion or trinket that would grant him endless life. The Fox-Thief was ready for this, able to leave at a moment's notice to retrieve the Rockstar what the Fox was certain he would ask for.
But the Rockstar was mortal, and was not afraid to die.
It had taken all of the Fox's courage to come to the funeral. In doing so, he was forced to give up on the silly notion that his Rockstar might come back. The man had warned his Fox not to come, for it was a risk to show his ageless face among people who had known the Rockstar all his life. But the Fox-Thief was compelled to ignore this request, to come and pay his last respects in a way he thought most fitting. It was, after all, not so difficult to hide his age and true face from the Rockstar's other acquaintances.
The Fox-Thief told a story:
"Once, long ago, in the Dark Dreaming Days when mankind was young, there existed a most exceptional Fox-Thief. He was a handsome creature, friendly in his own way and charming to boot - but he guarded his heart fiercely. Friends he had in abundance, but never did they draw close to him, and never did they receive the prize of his love. The Fox-Thief was hardly a reliable creature.
Now, the Fox-Thief had many weaknesses, one of which was pride. So when the First Dreamer came to him with a challenge, the Fox could hardly refuse.
The Dreamer came to the Fox deep one evening - as he so often does - as the Fox slept, in the guise of a grizzled old man in a dark and colorless cloak. From the hood of the cloak gleamed teeth bright as stars; the old man's eyes were the sun and the moon. From these signs the Fox knew to whom he spoke. "My Lord," he said, bowing deep, "What an honor it is, to have such a visitor this evening. Forgive me - though my dreams are but those of a humble Fox, might I offer you a cup of tea?"
"Fox-Thief," the Dreamer said, and his voice was the roar of the ocean and the rumble of the earth, "I come not for pleasantries, but to offer you a... wager. A challenge. I know you to be a clever beast, and I am much interested to test your skills."
The Dreamer knew his subject well. The Fox-Thief could do no less than agree, though he did not yet know the nature of the test.
"My Lord," he said, "It would be an honor to accept your challenge. I shall prove myself beyond all mere rumor."
"I wonder, will you regret such swift acceptance in the future?" the Dreamer chuckled. It seemed to the Fox that His laugh was much like the churning of a powerful river over stones. "The game is simple: I wish you to go to the realm of Mankind and make the acquaintance of a certain man-child. You may see this boy as often as you'd like; you may tell him as much or as little about yourself as you choose. You may befriend or betray him as you like. The one and only rule is this: you must see this boy at least thrice. Once for an initial meeting; again when he has reached his middle-years; and once again when he lays upon his deathbed."
The Fox laughed and tossed the Dreamer a carefree wink and a white-toothed grin. "Is that all? Why, that seems no challenge at all, for even the full span of a mortal's life is not so long to me. What might I win in return for my troubles?"
At this, the Dreamer smiled so wide that though he was in the guise of a Man, it seemed he might swallow the whole world between his star-teeth. "My dear Fox-Thief, should you complete this task I shall give you a treasure unlike anything in your vast hoard."
And so the Fox-Thief accepted the Dreamer's wager, and left his home to seek the man-child."
This is a little prose piece I'm working on for myarmcanfly, concerning the FUTURE! for Kyu and her character Rom. Actually, the surrounding plot is really just a vehicle for the fable within the story, but that's not important XD
I realize this won't make very much sense to anyone else, but I rather like it, so I'm going to post it. This is the first half of the whole story. I'll post the second half when I finish it XD
The Fox-Thief was a teller of tales, a spinner of words with the power to make truth from lies and cause grown men to weep and repent for sins they hadn't known they'd committed. In the First Days, the Dark Dreaming Days, he'd traded stories for meat at the Wolf's fire and charmed the Crow down from her mountain stronghold. He'd spoken into life gods and legends, and had given mankind its first scraps of folklore. He told all kinds of stories, in all shapes and sizes and species. It was a skill more valuable to him than his thieving, though he would never admit it. He'd had little cause to use it in recent days.
Of course, he hadn't counted on the Rockstar dying.
It came as no surprise to him that he was dead. His Rockstar was mortal, after all, and mortals had a perplexing tendency to die less than a decade after birth from age, of all things. The Rockstar was no different. He had lived a good long life and died an old, old man, and when his span of years was up, he had died. So the Fox-Thief was not so much surprised that he was dead, as he was disappointed. He had kept hope right up until the end that somehow, the Rockstar would not die - that he was not human at all, perhaps, or that he would ask at last for a potion or trinket that would grant him endless life. The Fox-Thief was ready for this, able to leave at a moment's notice to retrieve the Rockstar what the Fox was certain he would ask for.
But the Rockstar was mortal, and was not afraid to die.
It had taken all of the Fox's courage to come to the funeral. In doing so, he was forced to give up on the silly notion that his Rockstar might come back. The man had warned his Fox not to come, for it was a risk to show his ageless face among people who had known the Rockstar all his life. But the Fox-Thief was compelled to ignore this request, to come and pay his last respects in a way he thought most fitting. It was, after all, not so difficult to hide his age and true face from the Rockstar's other acquaintances.
The Fox-Thief told a story:
"Once, long ago, in the Dark Dreaming Days when mankind was young, there existed a most exceptional Fox-Thief. He was a handsome creature, friendly in his own way and charming to boot - but he guarded his heart fiercely. Friends he had in abundance, but never did they draw close to him, and never did they receive the prize of his love. The Fox-Thief was hardly a reliable creature.
Now, the Fox-Thief had many weaknesses, one of which was pride. So when the First Dreamer came to him with a challenge, the Fox could hardly refuse.
The Dreamer came to the Fox deep one evening - as he so often does - as the Fox slept, in the guise of a grizzled old man in a dark and colorless cloak. From the hood of the cloak gleamed teeth bright as stars; the old man's eyes were the sun and the moon. From these signs the Fox knew to whom he spoke. "My Lord," he said, bowing deep, "What an honor it is, to have such a visitor this evening. Forgive me - though my dreams are but those of a humble Fox, might I offer you a cup of tea?"
"Fox-Thief," the Dreamer said, and his voice was the roar of the ocean and the rumble of the earth, "I come not for pleasantries, but to offer you a... wager. A challenge. I know you to be a clever beast, and I am much interested to test your skills."
The Dreamer knew his subject well. The Fox-Thief could do no less than agree, though he did not yet know the nature of the test.
"My Lord," he said, "It would be an honor to accept your challenge. I shall prove myself beyond all mere rumor."
"I wonder, will you regret such swift acceptance in the future?" the Dreamer chuckled. It seemed to the Fox that His laugh was much like the churning of a powerful river over stones. "The game is simple: I wish you to go to the realm of Mankind and make the acquaintance of a certain man-child. You may see this boy as often as you'd like; you may tell him as much or as little about yourself as you choose. You may befriend or betray him as you like. The one and only rule is this: you must see this boy at least thrice. Once for an initial meeting; again when he has reached his middle-years; and once again when he lays upon his deathbed."
The Fox laughed and tossed the Dreamer a carefree wink and a white-toothed grin. "Is that all? Why, that seems no challenge at all, for even the full span of a mortal's life is not so long to me. What might I win in return for my troubles?"
At this, the Dreamer smiled so wide that though he was in the guise of a Man, it seemed he might swallow the whole world between his star-teeth. "My dear Fox-Thief, should you complete this task I shall give you a treasure unlike anything in your vast hoard."
And so the Fox-Thief accepted the Dreamer's wager, and left his home to seek the man-child."