Faerie Tales, by Felix Locii

[[DM] Grinning Death]

An older volume, no doubt handled without care by school children, sits on a shelf in the Sundren library. The pale green binding shows scuffs of age and use, and there are signs it may have to be re-done within the next few years.

The cover's letters are in faded amber ink, glittering duly under the mage-light provided by the curator, ever watchful of destructive flame. If one were to open the slim volume, they'd see a beautifully drawn vellum page, elaborate letters swirling into a title, and then a table of contents.

Faerie Tales
By Felix Locii

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Table of Contents
I. The Tree Who Wished To Be Tall
II. River, River, Falling (Child's Rhyme)
III. The Boy and the Sparrow
[OOC: The remainder is a blur, for now]

[[DM] Grinning Death]

The Tree Who Wished To Be Tall

"Once, there was a tree in a massive forest that stretched as far as the eye could see. The tree was a diminutive one, without the strong branches or thick foliage that the other trees boasted. It was constantly overshadowed by the larger of its kind, failing to get even the barest of the sun's light. Despite this, the small tree stretched whenever it saw its chance, to grasp at a sliver of sunlight during the high point of the sun's travels during the day. It even had small, but delicious fruit hanging from its branches. Thus, it was able to survive, but not prosper. Lamenting the fact that it could never reach the heights of its fellows, the tree looked vainly upwards, ever hopeful that one day it could bask in the sun.

One day, a traveler was walking through the forest, tired and hungry. Pausing by the tree, he asked if he could perhaps rest beneath it. The other trees, he explained, didn't have soft pine needles to make a bed out of because they were too large and tough. The tree, happy to do so, agreed to let the traveler use its soft needles to make a bed out of. The traveler made a bed, and relaxed for the first time in a long while. The tree offered some of its fruit, hearing the growl from the traveler's stomach.

More than grateful, the traveler picked three small, but juicy fruits from the tree's low hanging branches. Deliciously ripe, the fruits sated the traveler's thirst and hunger.

The traveler asked, "Tree, you have the softest needles and the juiciest fruit I've ever encountered, and I am eternally grateful for your generosity. Ask, and I will do my best to grant you aid in return."

The tree thought for a moment. "You'd aid me in anything I asked?"

The traveler nodded his assent. "Of course. Choose wisely though, for while my knowledge spans oceans, mountains, and deserts, if a request is made in ill intent there will be disastrous results."

The tree responded. "While it has always been my fondest wish to be tall and to taste the breeze of the tops of the forest, it is not a wish I would ask of another to fulfill. Truthfully, bringing you aid has given me a joy that I have not felt in my few years. I wish I could bring such aid to others as in need as yourself."

The traveler smiled, for this was a noble request, unhindered by falsity. "Then, for your needles I give you this advice: the sun is a life-giving light, but we cannot always seek sustenance from others. True light is sometimes in places within, and in our grasp."

"And for your three fruit, I tell you this: thrice you shall strive towards the light, and in doing so you will find the strength you seek for others."

And with that, the traveler bade farewell to the small tree, and continued onto paths forgotten in the mists of time.

The tree pondered the travelers words. "My grasp is only to the barest glimmer of light, my branches cannot reach much farther than that." Musing over the words, the tree spotted a squirrel digging near its roots. "Aha!" The tree exclaimed. "My roots are able to go ever deeper. Perhaps that is what the traveler meant."

And with that, the tree reached down into the earth, straining itself in doing so but finding nothing but dirt and worms. Not disheartened, the tree tried again, going even deeper. Striking against rock, the tree's roots sought at cracks within the earth's crust, but could not find any. Exhausted, the tree summoned the last of its strength, and thrust deeper than any tree before and shattered the stone blocking its passage.

There, at the heart of the world, the tree's roots found a source of light that invigorated the tree's limbs and filled it with strength. Amazed at the new found light, the tree's trunk stretched and grew taller than any tree has before or since. Its branches multiplied, its roots grew offshoots that spread across the face of the entire forest, providing life to all who drew near.

The tree now towered over the forest, but in doing so helped inhabitants rather than hurt them. Its roots provided sustenance to the other trees, and its fruit gave food to those traveling within. Ever mindful of the traveler's words, the tree sought to use its power to help others, and in doing so became a beacon of unsurpassed beauty."

[[DM] Grinning Death]

River, River, Falling (Child's Rhyme)

River, River, Swimming
The sunlight is a'dimming
Greener edges can show you the ledges
And keep your mother from bawling

River, River, Falling
The current is a'calling
Don't fall in, unless you can swim
Else the River Folk can
Call you kin

River, River, Sinking
Lost in the colors you're thinking
Green is my favorite
So I choose to take it
And follow into the faerie lake lit.

River, River, Taking
The faerie lake is a'shaking
The colors are gone
The light is vanished upon
The darkness that is a'making

[[DM] Grinning Death]

The Boy and the Sparrow

"There once was a boy who lived in a land without sunshine. It snowed all day and all evening, all summer and all winter. He and his parents lived in a shack near a dead oak tree near the edge of the village, and were constantly hungry. The boy tried his best to plant crops fo himself and his parents, but the best he could ever do were small potatoes because the ground was so tough.

One day, while trying to dig a hole large enough to plant the last of his remaining crop, a sparrow lighted on the branch of the dead oak tree. It watched the boy dig, and dig, and dig, and finally it took pity on him.

"Child," the bird chirped, "What are you doing?"

The boy looked up and replied, "I'm trying to plant something that might feed my family. With this endless cold, we will otherwise surely starve."

The bird flapped its wings. "I feel for your plight, boy. It has been many an age since I saw the clear blue skies of my youth, soaring amongst the clouds. If only the Winter Knight were gone from these lands, the clouds would fade, and life would spring once more."

"Then, someone must slay this Winter Knight." The boy proclaimed. "And if no one else shall, I will." The sparrow cocked its head to the side. "Such a quest would be dangerous alone, child. I shall accompany you, and show you the way to the Knight's castle."

And so, the two companions set off towards the mountains of Brig Gwaywffon. The two passed through a forest, where the cries of the wolves (Editor's Comment: Translation is tough here, between wolves and bandits depending on the dialect) echoed in the air.

The sparrow, knowledgeable from its many years flying in these lands, told the boy, "In that small alcove, there used to live a swordsman of great renown. His blade may still be there, take it to defend yourself." The boy and the sparrow reached the alcove and found a blade with cracked and ruined hide on its pommel, but its blade was sharp as the day it was forged. That evening, when the boy and sparrow stopped to make camp, the ringing of the blade as it was drawn scared away the wolves from the campfire. The boy thanked the sparrow. "You are a good friend, sparrow." The sparrow replied, "I dream of bluer skies. You must succeed."

As they traveled north, the boy grew colder. Shivering, he rubbed his arms as they climbed the base of the mountains. The sparrow, thinking quickly, gathered the leaves of the Dail Tân tree. "Here," the sparrow said, "Weave these leaves together into a cloak. The Dail Tân tree's leaves burn with the fires of the gods, and should keep you warm." The boy did so, and wove a beautiful, shimmering cloak of fire leaves that kept him warm and dry. The boy smiled, and thanked the sparrow. "You are a good friend, sparrow." The sparrow replied, "I dream of green fields. You must succeed."

Finally, after many weeks, they reached the gleaming tower of the Winter Knight. The sparrow and the boy stood before the gates, and the boy called forth. "Winter Knight! Your grip on these lands is at an end. Face me, and prepare to meet the gods."

As the boy finished speaking, the doors opened, ice cracking along the edges. Inside stood an old man, wizened and tired on a throne of ice. His eyes though, burned with an icy hate. The boy hesitantly stepped forward, raising his blade.

The sparrow cried out, "No! You cannot strike an unarmed warrior in his home!"

But it was too late. The boy sliced straight into the Knight, his blade striking the back of the throne. The Knight, his blood running from his lips, smiled. "And so, my time is at an end. I can at last rest."

Horrified, the boy watched as the Knight reached out, and took the boy's heart from his chest, beating in time with the boy's breath. The Knight faded from sight, the boy's heart grasped in his icy claws. As he did, the boy gasped, touching the quickly healing hole in his chest.

The boy felt a terrible emptiness, then. His heart gone, he had no understanding of his friendship with the sparrow. But the sparrow flew about the castle. "Remember, my friend! Remember green fields, and blue skies. Remember." And the boy did. The clouds cleared as the mantle of the Winter Knight passed to the boy, and grass began to grow once more.

The sparrow remains even now by the new Winter Knight's side, trying to make him remember the warm winds of spring. The sparrow's efforts work for part of the year, but eventually the Knight's heartless breast ends in cold, and silence until the sparrow is able to spur him once again."