Mae Cooper

The

In another realm there is a country known as Tevan. In Tevan there is a forest known as the Darkened Woods. Inside the Darkened Woods there is a house on a hill without a name. The house has stood on a hill for over a millennia and no one has ever been able to enter it. Why? No one knows.

The villagers of Tisolla rushed onto the streets to see the cause of all this commotion. It was a carriage. A classy one at that. Tisolla never got any visitors, except for a hunter or perhaps a traveling performing troupe. The villagers remarked to each other about who was inside and why they were here.

“I heard the King is having a competition of sorts, perhaps they are going to it.” Remarked the village gossip.

“A merchant, definitely.”

“A noble gone rogue.”

The coach stopped and the driver stepped off his perch to open the door. Four finely dressed young men stepped out and took in the crowd. The villagers noticed their well-kept hair and expensive traveling clothes. They all knew they were nobles.

“Well, it sure is lovely to be out of the carriage.” One spoke. He was tall with ebony colored hair.

The woman who was the village leader stepped in front of the herd of people and greeted them, “Welcome to our village. I must say we are quite surprised you are here, rarely do we get any visitors. What business do you have here?”

As the woman spoke the crowd began to disperse, but they still strained their hearing to listen in. This time a platinum-blonde haired one spoke, “We are traveling to The Event down south, but were in need of a break. Honestly, my acquaintances here,” he gestures to the three surrounding him, “are a little hard to be around for this long.”

The woman gives a low chuckle at his informal nature, but then inquires, “And who are your acquaintance and yourself?”

“We are the Four Lords of Lurce, of course.” He said, tilting his head.

The woman’s dull green eyes widened in shock. Lurce was a prominent city up north and was notorious for its brutal leaders, the Lords. The city always had four leaders, regardless of gender. They were all descendants of the first Lord of Lurce and all inherited his brutality. The leaders were vicious. The town leader found it hard to believe due to these men’s attitudes, but she didn’t want to be wrong and dead.

“If you don’t mind me asking, but d-do you have any proof?”

The third one, hair the color of blood, stepped forward and scoffed, “Are you doubting us?” He fingered a dagger at his waist.

“Really, Thomas? You’re going to give the poor woman a heart attack.” The dark haired man scolded, “Here’s your proof.” He showed the woman a golden badge signifying who they were and she nodded. The man spoke again, “I’m no introductions are necessary, but formalities are key. I’m Lord Dorian of Lurce. This lovely red-head is Lord Thomas of Lurce.” He then gestures to this platinum-blonde man, “He is Lord Drayce of Lurce.” He gestured to the one man who hadn’t spoken at all, who had golden hair, “This is Lord Jackson of Lurce.”

The woman bowed in greeting, her rusty brown hair falling into her eyes, and introduced herself, “I am Maria Magrove, leader of Tisolla. How can I be of assistance?”

“How about some food?” Lord Drayce asked.

The village leader led them to The Serpent’s Tavern.

The men had eaten and went with the woman to her office. She perched in her worn chair and they sat in the opposite chairs.

“You said you were going to The Event and decided to rest. May I ask why you decided to go through the Darkened Woods?”

The quiet Lord Jackson finally spoke up from his lounging position, smirking as he said, “To get to the Order of Assassin’s lair .”

Maria Magrove’s eyebrows rose, but Lord Dorian sighs wearily, “Must you?”

“I am bound by law to answer a stupid question with a sarcastic comment.”

A low chuckle came from Lord Drayce as he spoke, “I apologize for his sardonic attitude. We were traveling to The Event, when we received news. The Grand Advisor detected something peculiar in this area. It was meant to be a warning for us to be wary in our travels, but why not root out this problem? Perhaps you could tell us if you know anything about this?”

The village leader assessed the situation before she spoke hesitantly, “ I might know of this problem. Our village is just out of the Darkened Woods, but if you travel about a quarter mile in the woods, you’ll come across a hill with a large estate resting atop.”

“Why would that be the cause?” The white-haired one queried.

“Because no one can enter the property,” was the only response, The haughty red head blinked in confusion before adorning a imperious mask, “What on Earth do you mean?”

“I mean as soon as you try to touch the gate you’re blasted backwards by some force.”

The cruelly sarcastic Lord spoke again, “Hmmm, that is peculiar.”

Lord Drayce simply said, “Can you arrange for a guide to take us there?”

“Of course.”

The men left for an inn and only terrorized the villagers a little.

In the morning, an old man with bottle green eyes was there to lead the Lords to the house. The ancient guide was quiet for the majority of the walk and listened instead. The Lords didn’t act Lordly (perhaps it was ruse?), but the haughty one and sarcastic one bickered, while the more calm Lord Drayce just whistled, irritating the both of them. Lord Dorian just looked like he wanted to slap them all, but was too tired to do so. The old man remembered what it was like to be in his twenties and prime.

The guide finally spoke, “We are getting close. Let me warn you, as soon as your foot touches the hill a wave of dread hits you, so powerful it makes the grown run.”

“I highly doubt it will bother us.” Lord Thomas sneered.

The escort simply nodded and continued, “I have come here many times, I’ve always been ensnared by the enigma of this place. I wondered if the Fae had come from the far south to this house or perhaps it is witches. Nevertheless, I haven’t found any sign of them.”

Lord Drayce spoke, “Have you ever seen someone here?”

The man shook his head, “No, but about a year ago a young village girl claimed to have seen a figure weeping in the window.”

“Could we speak to that girl?” One of the Lords asked.

The man uttered softly, “No, unfortunately she died a day after telling us.”

An eerie quiet fell upon the group. They soon approached the house. It looked like a normal merchant’s country home.

The nobles stepped onto the hill and gave a shiver of fear, but continued onwards. There was a climbable metal fence wrapped around the house.

“Well? Do any of you want to have the honors?” Lord Jackson asked with a condescending tone.

“I will.” Lord Thomas volunteered.

The man warned him again of the danger, but the arrogant man just sneered.

He grabbed a metal bar off the fence.

He flew backwards.

It took him a few seconds to recover before he stood up, his face red with anger.

“Your face matches your hair.” Lord Jackson observes.

The Lord just regarded him scornfully before demanding, “What sorcery is this? If any of the magic users have done this without clearance, then they are an enemy of the crown!”

“We don’t know,” their guide whispered.

The Four Lord of Lurce stood in a straight line as they stared at the house. Their thoughts were usually quite different, but this time they all wondered the same thing.

Who was behind this and why?

Was it the Assassin’s hideout?

A crime lord’s retreat?

A Fae headquarters?

A warlock home?

They didn’t know, but hated being humiliated like this and hated not knowing anything.

They were ruthless and would do anything to prove that they were.

There was a reason Lurce meant cruel in the old-tongue.

Inside the house, a young woman stared out the window at the group of young menShe hadn’t seen them before, only the old man. She noticed their outfits that looked like they were from a renaissance fair. The young woman wondered when she would finally leave this forsaken place.

She would do anything to get out.

And to figure out why she was here.

We Are Clouds

Part 1:

The night I saw the butterflies, Solil had left the Earth. I could nearly see her heart loosen in its place and soar from her chest. It was then that all the magic in the universe began to fade, and, as though to make up for it, nature sent these creatures of pigmented parchment. Lush, ink accented wings dove through the brussel of the forest behind our home as twilight dawned, and the delicate sound of gliding souls beckoned me to dance among them. They did not flutter away for they knew my heart was held solely on a shattering crystal pedestal. I stood there for hours, even after they had departed. Doing so in a way that suggested they knew they had fulfilled their duty. By the time they had left, understanding my sister was gone was not the sole thing that terrorized my aching conscience, but where she had gone to. What better place did she have to be? We were Gloris and Solil, inseparable like the pendulum to the ticking hour hand, each keeping the other in sync. Mother told me I was forbidden to see Solil, but what did it matter now? She was unrecognizable without her smirk, so I took the liberty of slipping a hazelnut creamed chocolate beneath her cold fingertips and kissed her pale cheeks.

“What will we be if there is nothing left of you? I made up but a quarter of who we were, I will disappear with your ashes,” I whispered. I had written it beforehand in hopes that words I had so thoroughly contemplated would reach her. Later I thought it silly, but self consciousness was fleeting in the wake of my own humility as I stood before a life cut short.

Before I had entered her room, I was certain I would remain there for the rest of my life, just as how it was meant to be. Her and I, together. But this thought was revoked by the thickness of the still air once I had walked in. It was quiet, yet this overwhelming sense of yearning seemed to echo through the silent oxygen and slipped its way down my throat. I feared I would die myself as I choked on the ghosts of breaths that lingered. Feeling like a glass before tipping, like the sound of voices through a wall, like the clanging of aged chimes.

I left her there.

Cedar Waxwing

A snowflake falls from the cloudless blue sky landing gracefully on a branch of a coniferous tree. It covers the branch like a blanket of melancholy. The snowflakes are scattered across the sky like pearls scattered in the ocean. A high pitched whistling can be heard far away in the forest, the sound gets closer and closer.

Suddenly a bird lands on the branch like a ballerina landing from a leap, sending a powder shower of snow into the air. It’s a medium sized bird, maybe about 6 to 7 inches. It has tail feathers the color of a bright yellow sunset, a patch of scarlet red staining a small section of its wing feathers, a pastel yellow abdomen, and a mask the color of charcoal with a white border surrounding it. Most of its feathers are a mix of an ash gray and a shiny brown.

This is a Cedar waxwing. It plucks a madrone berry with its short and wide beak, its diet consists mainly of berries and fruit year round. These fruits include dogwood, serviceberry, cedar, juniper, hawthorn, and winterberry. However, during mating season it consumes mostly insects. A small cone called the eastern redcedar is its favored nourishment, this is why its name is Cedar waxwing!

They prefer areas at the edge of a forest, where berries and water can be easily found. They like to bathe and drink from shallow streams. Cedar waxwings are mainly found in flocks when it’s not breeding season. They feed together, and when berry supply is low in an area they fly together to find a new location.

Cedar waxwings are unique singers. Its high-pitched whistling can be heard through the trees of a forest like a dolphin’s chirp from the deep seas, the whistling be heard farther and further away, until it disappears completely.

Vision

Women appeared suddenly in my vision. I felt like I was going blind, I had never seen these demented people, they were crazed, stumbling around my wood floors in my room. I shut my eyes, presuming I would stop seeing, but they were still there, staring at me. They made eye contact with my pupils, I physically couldn’t look away. They looked as if they had departed from the grave. The floors creak under their feet, the skin being as gray as the rainy ocean. The paint of my window was crumbling off, the ripped drapes blowing in the wind.

My window was open, the cold air running into my room like the time on the clock. I couldn’t bring myself to get up. I was stuck in the indent in my bed that my weight made in the foam. I was frozen, I couldn’t move a muscle. I felt something pushing me down further as if a sixty pound dumbbell was on my chest. Not only I couldn’t move, but I lost my breath from the pushing down to my body. I was helpless, struggling to get up. I tried moving my pointer finger slowly. Then my pinky, then thumb.

My eyes opened to my room, no beings, no rips in the drapes, the paint on the window fresh, and I was stunned. My mouth was open in shock. That was the worst sleep paralysis I’ve ever had, ever. In my 13 years of living, I had only had a few sleep paralysis hallucinations. They were just regular, where I couldn’t move, but the scenes were not horrifying. It was just my room, I just couldn’t move. Nothing, and I mean nothing like this. I flopped down on my bed and picked up my phone. The bright light flashed upon my face. 2:03 am, my phone read. I turned over and went to sleep.

When I woke up, I saw that it was dark outside already. It was summer, and it was never dark at this hour. After all, it was only around 2:00 pm. I crept downstairs to find my mom cooking dinner. “It’s only two..” I said, unsure. “Honey, you must be mistaken. It’s five,” she said, confused. I looked at the tiny screen on our shiny black oven. 5:06 pm, it read; I could’ve sworn it was 2:00. “I’m making broccoli and mashed potatoes,” she said with a smile. “Okay, see you later mom,” I said. Has the time changed? I gazed at my phone when I reached my room. 5:09 it read, how? I was freaked out, I hadn’t experienced any of this before. I needed to take a break from reality.

The knob on the shower turned with a high-pitched squeak. I sat on the scratchy mat, waiting for the water to become as hot as the sun, as I liked it. I stepped in steadily so I wouldn’t slip. The water immediately rushed down my face. Swirling into the folds of my eyes, making my vision go blurry. My hair was flattened and wet, frizzy because of my huge tangles that I was too tired to brush out. I rested my head on my knees and felt the hotness drip down my back. “Dinner!” my mom screamed. I stepped out, frigid from the air outlasting my body. I got my unpigmented towel, put on my clothes, and advanced downstairs to my mother.

I shoved the food into my jaw, I was starving. The whole time me and my mom hadn’t said a word. I stomped up to my room, unsure about my mom not talking to me. I went into my doorway when I heard a snap. Beads hit the floor and bounced into the divots in the wood. My phone chain had broken apart and the beads had flooded all over the place. But I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. I recognized the exact beads on my floor, but my phone was nowhere to be found. I ignored it and closed the door behind me. I leaped into my warm bed and closed my eyes.

I woke up in a daze. I was seeing paranormal people again. Except this time it felt more real, as if I was in normal reality. I looked around trying to close my eyes, but they wouldn’t shut. Two of them were on the ground, lying flat. They were lifeless, dead. Although it seemed all of them were, some couldn’t move anymore. It seemed that I woke up, but they were still there, creeping around my room. This time my room was even worse. The floorboards were falling apart, the tapestry had rips, and my dresser mirror was black as the night sky. Suddenly everything went still. My room went back to normal, but they were still there. I stepped out of bed, I could move? I didn’t want to approach them. I jumped back in bed, they were making eye contact with me. The sun shone through my stained glass window, reflecting beautifully on the hard ground. It was real. This was in real life.