Doc Carver - A Good Day (EndPost)
A warm breeze blew, picking up as it crossed the water and gently caressing the face of the man known as Doctor David Carver. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in before glancing up at the castle off a little ways. The breeze carried with it not just the warmth and life of Spring, but with it also the promise of transition into a long, glorious Summer. It wasn't too humid, nor too hot in the shade, and perfect weather for a picnic. It was a good day.
That's what his family had decided, at least; it was picnic time. A call from his sister Margerie and then from Eddie had alerted hiim to the picnic, and he'd happily come laden with food and drink. It was a rambunctious potluck affair, with a good five of his siblings, their children, and in one case even grandchildren of his oldest sister, Rachel. They'd been at it for a few hours now, and while some still picked at food most of the adults were chatting or just relaxed, enjoying the day while the children played.
He brought the little knife up to the piece of wood he'd found, David had a comfortable spot on some uprisen roots against a tree, finding a touch of shade and the breezes afforded to be wonderful. As he chatted with whomever came over and whittled away shavings here and there, he reflected that he was perhaps more content than he'd ever been. Things were going well for him recently. Work was becoming far more interesting now after a few papers published, and he was finally gaining some ground in the fight against overperscription. At the last conference he'd met a lovely behavioral psychiatrist. They'd spent the bulk of their first date arguing over Freud, and the good doctor wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't in love.
A trio of his nieces wandered over, the looks of children about to ask for something not quite concealed in their expressions. David smiled at them and continued to shape the wood. It was beginning to come to form now... "And what can I do for you girls?"
"Well!" said Elise, named for her great-grandmothere and the leader of the three. "We were wondering if you might please tell us a story, uncle?" At eleven she wasn't at the point yet where stories from family became "lame," but it was a time approaching.
"A story, eh?" He leaned back in a languid fashion, making himself more comfortable against the tree. "I might have, at that. And what sort of story will you be wanting?"
Grace, one of Margerie's virtuous daughters looked concerned, as if she might be irrevocably harmed by anything but the right story. "About the faeries? Like great-grandpa used to tell mama?" She was her name and more, nine in two weeks and pretty as a picture.
"Ahhhh," David let out with approval, and smiled at them. "You know, that sounds like just the thing." He looked over to Diane, a quiet just ten with the most wonderful chestnut grey hair. You wouldn't know it to look at her, but she was one of the finest young riders he'd ever seen, and was going to grow up to be a singer. "What do you think, Diane?" The other girls looked at her, and she shyly nodded.
"Once there was a kingdom in a land much like this one, and it's sign was that of Apples It was part of a larger kingdom, indeed, a network of kingdoms that spanned from sea to shining sea, from flats of Northern Ice to the Burning Suns of the south, from White Sands to Stormy seas. And these kingdoms were filled with people like you and me...but more than that, they were filled with the Fae."
The girls listened intently, the only other sounds being the other children playing off in the distance, and the soft whsk whsk of his knife on the wood. "How to describe them, these children of dreams made flesh? They were majestic, fearsome, beautiful and cold. They were generous to their friends and merciless with any who earned their ire. There were the noble and cowardly, the peaceful and the warmongers, the malevolent and the benevolent. The crystalline rains fell on the just and the unjust alike, and they were every dream you've ever had and some you haven't."
Grace tugged at his sleeve. "...can you tell us about the castle, and Freedom? Please? About the White Queens and all the faeries?"
He smiled down at her. "Of course, Gracie. The Dutchy of Freedom had long been at the heart of the Kingdom of Apples. There in castles spun of dreams and glory the monarchs resided in state. First was noble King Asterlain of the Lion's House, who gave up his throne for need and journied far and wide. His tales have I told you. The second was Queen Mab, who fell prey to darkness and a sinister nature, and who was ultimately thrown up by the people. For the land and the monarch are one, and it will only tolerate so much.
"Asterlain returned for a time, but it was only to show the way to the Land of Endless Dreams, where all Fae truly come from. He left in his stead the noble Duchess made White Queen, Shayndel of the house of silver stars and crescent moon. She was beautiful in her joy and even in her sorrow, with hair dark as nice and skin whiter than snow. Her House was one of magic, and she was a sorceress with few peers, beloved for her wisdom as much as for her great heart. She led the Kingdom through the War of Broken Dreams in the Year of Winter's Chill."
"Who else was there?" demanded Elise.
"So many wonders, my dear niece. There were noble lords, mighty warriors and strong leaders, some who rode on Griffon-back. There was a cowboy knight as tall as a tree with a heart as big as the bay, a child maker who wove for us the song of hope, a fearsome huntsman from which none could escape. There was a child of darkness who wielded the magics ancient, a beautiful singer who became a royal bard, a mechanical man who made all sorts of things, even a young cat who was really a beloved young knight. There were all of these and more, some good and some bad, all of them heroes in their own right. And so they dwealt in their shimmering towers, in their noble halls and even castles in the skyline until the War of Broken Dreams had ended.
"When the war had ended, though, it was time for them to return to the Land of Endless Dreams. To let the world rest from the long battle and to remember how to laugh after the tragedy. They left one fire burning in their greatest castle, and a young man who was never really part of the world took it upon himself to guard the place of dreams and glory until they might return. It is said that he waits still."
Gracie beamed at him. "Oh, that's so nice...You should write the stories down! Make it a book!"
David smiled at the thought, carefully cutting...the piece had come out better than he'd hoped. "I just might, at that." He blew the last of the dust off his piece, and looked at the three girls. He loved all of his nieces and nephews, but these three were special to him. Such futures they would have, such amazing women they would grow up to be. He had Seen it, and looked forward to beholding it in truth.
"...do you girls want to hear a secret?" They all leaned in close, as he whispered. "It's true...and I am that keeper." They giggled a bit, their uncle telling another stories. "And I want to entrust each of you...with one of these." He carefully snapped the piece of wood along the small joints he'd made, breaking it into three equally carved pieces. Three small wooden keys, the handle the shape of an apple with a very small butterfly carved into it. Their eyes were wide as they said their thank yous. "Be careful with those,' David said with a little smile. "Keep them safe. Now...I do believe they're serving up some cake over there."
The girls grinned and turned to go for cake, laughing and chattering the whole way. David put his small knife away and thought about later. Another date tonight, and dancing under the stars, and after that? He smiled as he watched the girls running forward into the future.
It was a good day.
(OOC - I'd missed a bit of the end of Changeling, but I wanted to write a final post for Doc and put a nice cap on his stories. I hope it fits in with what's going on, the little Kinain remaining on the earth that is his home. I want to thank all of you I've played him with, it's been a heck of a time. Rest assured, at least in one family and maybe in publication, somewhere, the stories go on as they always have, and always will. You can't kill a dream. Not really)