by Kippie

Medea destroyed all she knew and left the world behind. Her husband had betrayed her beyond her wildest imagination. He had paid, he would be alone in the last days of this world, Medea felt no remorse. The realm was collapsing, there were no more children born after hers, at least not in her country. There was tale of younger children, but she had not seen them. She had been merciful, or so she rationalized, spared them from the days to come. The days would get so much worse, as the world ended. Medea wanted no part of humanity, she wanted to die alone.

She did not die alone. Blessed by the Cat, her body wavered not under the hot sun of the dessert. She ate very little, drank even less, when she felt herself ready to give into her own mortality it appeared to her. A ruin in the desert, a stone monolith. Crawling to the top, she stared up at the sun, as if daring it to collapse before she did. Beneath that blazing sun, she settled down to breathe her last, falling into a deep trance. Her spirit survived in a husk of a body, a mummy sitting for years as everyone in the realm destroyed themselves and each other.

At the end of it all, when she awoke, her skin was beautiful golden scales, shining like the sun. This was ascension, she would live forever this way.

by [@Shepherd]

Andrew and Beowulf stood in an empty castle, in an empty country, in an empty realm. The world had ended and left them behind. Beowulf had always been the stronger brother, in physicality, second born to the Elysian King and Queen. First born was Andrew, hence the order of their names. Gifted the more clever mind, Andrew had done all he could to protect his country as the world ended. When there was nobody left but the two of them, Andrew knew what to do, when Beo didn’t. “You were a good King, brother,” said Beo, trying to warm his hands with his breathe, but finding little heat in his own body. “better than our parents, at least.” Andrew smirked gently and sadly.

“Thank you, Beo, for protecting me. We did everything we could, but the Spirits have decided we’re through,” Andrew said, plainly. “One spoke to me, a Spirit, it told me we’re the last alive. I know what I must do to revive the world.”

“Too little, too late,” grumbled Beo, before inquiring “what do you have to do?”

“First, rest,” Andrew said, patting his younger brother’s shoulder. Beowulf grew far taller and broader than him, but Andrew stood with a more Kingly posture. Beowulf was glad to be the second born, he had no taste for responsibility. “In the morning, this will be over. I love you, brother.” Beowulf nodded, numb, not liking the sound of that. Andrew had fought so hard, but now? He sounded so resigned. It made the younger brother nervous.

“Rest well, brother,” Beo bid, kneeling before his brother, the Last King of Elysium. He took Andrew’s knuckles and placed them against his forehead, a silent pledge of love and loyalty, onto death. It was not Beo, however, who would sacrifice himself. Beo would be saved, for his brother was both charitable and selfish beyond reason.

The ground was hard and unyielding beneath her knees. The feeling was uncomfortable, but not in the slightest bit unfamiliar. She was use to kneeling; she was use to grovelling. What was unfamiliar was the silk of her dress, cool and smooth against her skin. The material was foreign, as was the blush that was powdered across her cheeks and the dark liner about her eyes. Her hair was wound upwards, set in place with a rose shaped pin made of off-white pearl. It was a copy of the flowers that grew about her in the garden. A forgery. Some would call the piece beautiful, a fragile and delicate ornament, but despite its flawless appearance it could still never compete with the living flowers that grew beneath the sun.

There were other girls there in the garden with her. With similar hair and similar dresses and similar rouge upon their cheeks, but they were different from her. There were no callouses upon their hands, the soles of their feet weren’t rough from walking barefoot for years, and their eyes… their eyes had never known fear and loneliness and hunger. They all visually appeared the same as they waited there in the garden for their lessons. All poised and beautiful and delicate. But she was just a copy of them. A forgery.

Ser Dorcyn, with his long, golden locks and proud stature, was a most admired knight. Children who swung their little, wooden swords dreamed it was his blade, tall, fearsome and unmarred, they swung. Women braiding spring flowers into their hair blushed red as a rose whilst they envisioned stripping him out of his gleaming armor to reveal his unscarred physique. Men, who shone green with envy, questioned his every motive; his courage, valor and loyalty. Skilled bards who smiled heartily as they plucked and sung of his countless victories in tournaments.

Indeed, Ser Dorcyn was a most admired knight. He who had not seen a single dent in his armor. He whose very flesh was flawless as a newborn babe’s. He whose sword remains unmarred to this day. He whose death, a fathal poisoning, will be bemoaned for centuries to come. Much, much longer than the common, weathered soldier of the King’s army.

Oh, there was simply no question that Ser Dorcyn was a most admired knight indeed.

Kippie

Deep in the tropical forest, there lies a mysterious beast. Very few have seen this strange creature, but I have. Let me tell you a story of my youth. The story of the tropical tree dragon. This dragon of legends is a long, lithe creature. He has snake-like features and short, nimble limbs. He has three pairs of wings that are very flexible and allow him to maneuver through the thick vegetation. It is said that he can change color to match his surroundings, but I think that he is just very stealthy. He has gray scales with mottled black, white and gray. His eyes are blue. There have been many in his presence, maybe you have even been near him. You would never know, unless you know what to look for.

When I was a younger soul, I was quite the wanderer. I fancied myself the brave adventurer. One of my adventures led me to the tropical forest. I had head tell of the mysterious creature, and I wanted to catch a glimpse for myself. The forest a dangerous place to be, filled with monsters and other dangerous thing. Armed with my trusty pointy stick and my knapsack, a ventured deeper into the woods. It felt like I had been wandering for hours, and I could see the orange sky dappled through the canopy. It was getting late, and I didn’t know the way back. Opening my knapsack, I came to the realization that I had forgotten my compass. I was lost.

Trying to keep my cool, I set up camp. I made a fire and gathered leaves to sleep on. Just as the moon was high in the sky, I woke up. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, I felt like I was being watched. I looked wildly around and behind me, but the only sound I heard was the rustling of the trees. Grabbing a smoldering branch, I used it as a torch. As a leaf fell to my right, I glanced up. A large pair of pale blue eyes were locked on me. I felt like a mouse in the presence of a cat. But.. there was no malice or predatory look in this creatures eyes. But mild curiosity, and surprise when our eyes met. I saw the long body, coiled throughout the trees, and the wings, fluttering with the breeze. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity wrapped up in a minute. Then in an instant, he let out a chortling grumble of sorts and disappeared back into the night.

I don’t remember if I slept after that, but in the morning, I found an arrow, etched into the ground. It pointed me to another arrow, and another. The arrows led me out of the forest, right to the point where I had entered. I don’t know for sure, but I believe this benevolent creature knew I was lost and gave me assistance.

I smiled when I saw her. It was the same time, same day. 3:25pm on Thursday afternoon. She would get off the school bus and walk into the cafe. When I saw the bus, I would look up from the newspaper and wait for her to plop herself in the chair across the table from me. Depending on how she sat down, I could tell how her day had been. If it was a good day, she would come skipping in and practically bounce into the chair. On bad days, she dragged herself over and would flop down with a sigh, a pouty frown etched on her face.
Today, she came sauntering over, humming absentmindedly to herself. She sat down at her chair and grinned up at me with her sweetest smile and her innocent blue eyes. We greeted each other as usual, and I got up to get our usual order: two small hot cocoas, one with whip cream for her, and one without for me. I asked her about her day and she would tell me the stories that she had been experiencing. Most of the stories she would tell me on these Thursday afternoons involved her friends and her school. Sometimes she would tell me about the dog she saw yesterday, or the trip she was going to take with her parents and siblings. Every story she told, she would recount with excitement and animated expressions and hand movements. I hung on her every word, it was nice to have some excitement in my life.
She sipped her cocoa slowly as she chatted about the book her teacher read today in class. She asked me if teachers read stories back when I was her age, and with a smile I said yes and recounted one of my favorite fairytales from my youth. She was surprised that I still remembered, but she enjoyed the tale nonetheless, her eyes shining with the prospect of adventures and magic and treasure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Years went by, we kept our weekly meetings. As she grew older, she would tell me different stories, her eyes lit up less with childlike wonder. She was growing up. Now she would stop by, and tell me about her new boyfriend, or the colleges she was looking into. Sometimes she would ask me advice or cry to me when she found out her boyfriend had cheated on her. She trusted me, I was her mentor and her friend, she reminded me of what it was like to be young, she gave me someone to chat with.
Finally the day came, she was going off to college. With her going away, I decided it was time to move into a retirement community and live out my days surrounded by my peers and nurses. We shared a tearful goodbye and I handed her a package. Inside, there was a letter telling her that she can do anything she puts her mind towards, that she is smart and talented and a kind person. There was some cash which is helpful when one is off to college, a T-shirt and two mugs from our favorite cafe, and hot cocoa mix. Tearfully we said our goodbye and she left.

The following Thursday, I was sitting in my new home when I heard a knock at the door. Grabbing my cane and heaving myself to the door, I opened it to find my friend with a smile on her face and two cups of hot cocoa.

*fights u*

Deep in the Darrius galaxy, there lies a planet. The planet of Bee’nti which is the fifth planet away from the Intic star. The ruler of this planet is called Queen Bee’nti. She has ruled her people for eons, longer than anyone can remember. While she is their ruler, she does not live on the planet, instead, she lives on the largest moon. This moon is simply called The Queen’s Quarters. She lives here with a small group known as The Devoted. The Devoted are somewhere between holy priests and priestesses, servants, and a royal court. Become a Devoted is a very difficult process, and it takes years of training. Once you have completed your training, you move to The Queen’s Quarters and begin your life and work there. Only the most senior Devoted can personally meet Queen Bee’nti, and they always recount her as dazzling and awe-inspiring. Even the lowest ranked Devoted are still shown upmost respect by the people of Bee’nti.

Queen Bee’nti herself is a fair, kind ruler and very, very protective of her planet. She usually stays holed up in her home, but she has been known to come out every thousand years or so to protect her planet and her people. In lore, she is depicted as a very large, shining creature. With thick, pink fur making a mane around her neck, head and down her back to a large, long fluffy pink tail. Her face is humanoid and her torso is also humanoid. She has blue, shining antlers that sprout out of the top of her head. Her next pair of legs are like the front legs of a feline, but stronger and with more dexterity. Her back back legs are like those of a deer with very strong hooves. She is build a bit like a centaur, but much larger, she is the size of the largest merchant ships. While she does not have wings, she is able to use magic to fly.

This savior to the people will not allow her planet to be destroyed. Because many have heard the legend, most steer clear of Bee’nti when they are planning a takeover. Her peaceful people are not warriors, but they are very hospitable farmers.

I woke up today, and I felt so sad.
Nothing was good, everything’s bad.
I grumped around the kitchen and grumped around my home.
I grumped at no one, I grumped all alone.

But as I was grumping, I opened the window wide.
Then I started feeling, something bubble inside.
The clouds were so happy, the sun was so bright.
I started forgetting how upset I’d been at night.

Oh! Happy clouds are here again, say hello to me, say hello to a friend
Happy clouds are in my sky, I’m feelin’ happy like I could fly
My happy clouds they went away, when I was sad, my skies were gray,
But happy clouds are here again, here again, here again.

As I got dressed and brushed my hair,
I smiled as wide as I possibly dared.
This joy that I felt, why it must be contagious.
Because I felt so happy, it must be outrageous.

So I needed to go and share this good thing,
This happiness made me want to sing!
I skipped out of the house, and I went a walkin’
When I came across someone, I stayed for some talkin’

Oh! Happy clouds are here again, say hello to me, say hello to a friend
Happy clouds are in my sky, I’m feelin’ happy like I could fly
My happy clouds they went away, when I was sad, my skies were gray,
But happy clouds are here again, here again, here again.

So share a smile, wave at your neighbor.
Because even best friends start out as strangers.
Be giddy, be happy have fun all day long.
And if you’re feeling the groove, sing along to the song:

Oh! Happy clouds are here again, say hello to me, say hello to a friend
Happy clouds are in my sky, I’m feelin’ happy like I could fly
My happy clouds they went away, when I was sad, my skies were gray,
But happy clouds are here again, here again, here again.

Oh! Happy clouds are here again, say hello to me, say hello to a friend
Happy clouds are in my sky, I’m feelin’ happy like I could fly
My happy clouds they went away, when I was sad, my skies were gray,
But happy clouds are here again, here again, here again.

In the dark of winter, when the sun doesn’t rise and the wind grows colder, that’s when she comes out to play. She goes by many names: Northern lights, aurora borealis.. But I like to call her Evynie. I met Evynie one winter when I was just a young boy. My parents lived in the northernmost city, nestled at the base of the mountain. At night, I liked to go outside and watch the sky. I would watch the moon rising, and the stars dance in the dark sky. I would find constellations and make up my own. And in the middle of winter, I would watch for the northern lights.

On the first night that I saw them, I remember that it took my breath away. It was stunning, all of the colors and the lights. I gasped, my jaw agape as I took in the beauty in the sky. When all of the sudden, I heard a giggle to my right. I jumped nearly a foot in the air as I found myself face to face with a girl about my age. She was grinning at me, ear to ear.
“You like??” she asked, pointing excitedly at the northern lights.
“Y-yes… I do, they’re beautiful…” I muttered back shyly.
“Yup.. they sure are nice,” she sighed, and I thought for a minute, we would enjoy the lights in silence, but after a second, she plowed forward, “So, what’s your name? I’m Evynie! Do you like the lights? Oh.. You already answered that didn’t you? Do I talk too much? I don’t talk to many people but when I do they usually say I talk too much.”
As she paused to take a breath, I shyly told her my name and assured her that she didn’t talk too much and that she can talk for the both of us if she wanted. At this, she grinned wider than humanly possible and took off talking at a mile a minute.
We would meet up every night throughout the winter. On the last day of the season, she came to me, more somber than I have ever seen her. She told me that she had to go and that she would return with the northern lights each winter. We have stayed friends all this time. I have gone and gotten older, and she is just as young, carefree and talkative as ever!