fiction - brigit's flame - fuel
Oct. 17th, 2008 02:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hwangoThis is my entry for the writing activity on the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
brigits_flame community. The prompt for this week was "fuel."
Foreword: Here is an approximation of the metaphorical conversation that I had with my muse this week.
Muse: I have two ideas for you this week. One is funny and one is a dark fairy tale that will crush the spirit of all who read it.
Me: Ooh, these are both cool, but people like funny, so I'll take the first one.
Muse: I changed my mind. You can only have the fairy tale.
Me: But, I wanted to write the –
Muse: It's the fairy tale or nothing. Now, go create some imaginary people and make them suffer horribly. Go!
So…yeah. Sorry, no funny this week. Instead, you get:
The King's Furnace
Long ago, in a faraway land, there lived a proud and noble king. He cared greatly for his people, and they prospered under his rule…for a time.
At the beginning of what would come to be the final year of his reign, the land suffered under an especially harsh and cruel winter. The people rejoiced when at last the days grew warm again and the snows began to melt. However, several weeks passed and still the trees lay bare of new leaves. Seeds did not sprout. Flowers did not bloom. Stores of food unexpectedly and inexplicably spoiled.
The king realized that something was terribly wrong, and so he summoned his most trusted advisors and asked them what he might do to help his ailing land. Each counseled him as befit his position. The priest believed that they had found disfavor with the gods, and suggested more prayer. The master merchant favored trading for seeds and food from other lands. The general recommended seizing those lands by force. The jester advised more laughter.
The king considered their words, but felt in his heart that none of them were the proper course of action, and in the end he dismissed all of their ideas. This was his first mistake.
That night, the king dreamt of ravens. As any child knew, ravens were the favored bird of the fae. Perhaps, thought the king, this was a dream sent to him by the gods telling him that he should court the aid of the fae.
Seeking assistance from the fae was dangerous, for they could be cruel and deadly, and their motives were often unfathomable. Still, the brave and the foolish still struck deals with them since the possible rewards were so great. Surely the fae were powerful enough to help in this situation, and the proud king believed that he was wise enough to bargain safely with the fae. This was the king's second mistake.
When twilight arrived the following day, the king called for a saucer of cream from the kitchens. This he set at the foot of his throne, and then he waited. After a time, one of the many cats that dwelt in the castle approached the throne and began to lap up the cream. Everyone knew that between the hours of twilight and dawn, all cats had a connection to the fae. After the cat had finished its meal, the king leaned forward and spoke to it.
"I would speak with the fae," he said. The cat groomed itself for a moment, and then left. The king waited.
After a long while, the king heard the caw of a raven, and he looked to the window. In the shadows by the wall there stood a tall figure cloaked all in black. A single raven's feather fluttered lazily to the stone floor.
"You wished to speak," said the visitor. A human might have said these words as if they were a question, but the fae did not pretend ignorance, and they never suffered from uncertainty.
"A mysterious blight afflicts my lands. I would know what I might do to banish it," said the king.
The figure stepped from the darkness and slowly approached the king. Each step was carefully considered, as if the exact placement of the foot were a matter that required the utmost precision. At last the fae stood before the throne. At first, the king found the fae's features beautiful. Then he looked into the creature's eyes. He averted his gaze with a shudder.
"I would be happy to assist," it said. Here the king made his third mistake, for he did not clarify who or what the fae would assist. "I could construct a furnace for you," said the fae. "So long as the fire in the furnace burns, this blight that you speak of will be banished beyond your borders. But, it will be fueled by that which you hold precious."
"You mean gold?" asked the king, and made his fourth and most tragic mistake when he did not wait for the fae to answer him. "A high price indeed, but one that I would gladly pay to see the kingdom safe. Very well. Bring me this furnace that burns gold, then, so that I might rid my land of the blight."
The fae smiled. "I will return in seven day's time with a furnace that will burn gold," it said. Then, without turning, it reversed its path across the hall. Each toe was placed exactly where it had landed on the journey from the window. Once the fae had returned to the shadows the king averted his gaze, which was the only thing that he had done correctly during the entire encounter. The king heard the flapping of wings, and then he was alone in his hall once more.
The king was so delighted that he had found the solution to his problem that he failed to notice that the fae seemed to gain nothing for itself from the arrangement.
* * *
Six days passed, and the blight continued to worsen. Livestock began to sicken and die, and bread would not rise. On the evening of the seventh day, the king heard the caw of a raven. He looked to the window and saw that the fae had returned.
"Welcome," said the king, which was yet another mistake, though it paled in significance next to the previous four that had already doomed him.
The fae strode across the hall, graceful and imperious, and with none of the care it had showed a week ago. The king had given it much more freedom now that he had welcomed it into the castle. It smiled at the king – a cruel, predatory smile.
"I have brought you your furnace," it said. "I have placed it across from your treasury."
The king frowned. "But, there is not a room across from the treasury."
The fae's smile widened. "Come," it said, "I will show you your furnace." With that, it strode from the hall, pausing at the great doors and motioning for the king to follow it. The king, greatly disturbed, hurried after it.
When they reached their destination, the king could see that it was indeed a door across from the treasury, though he was certain that no such door had not been there yesterday. The fae produced a key made of dark metal and slid it into the lock. Then it turned the crystal knob and swung open the door.
The room was small and cramped, and it was made even more so by the fact that nearly the whole of it was filled with a great furnace made of brightly polished steel. A low flame already burned inside.
"It will burn gold?" asked the king, which was the wrong question to ask.
"Yes," answered the fae.
The king summoned the treasurer to unlock the vault. Then he summoned a servant to fill the furnace. The treasurer wept as the confused and frightened servant loaded gold coins into the furnace with a coal shovel. No one thought to ask why there were already flames inside the furnace.
The flames flickered for a moment as the coins crashed down upon them, but then they spread to cover the gleaming wealth. As the king watched, he could see that the gold did not melt. Instead, the metal turned black and then reduced to ashes just as if it were wood. The furnace filled the small room with a sharp, cruel heat that did not extend beyond the doorway. If anything, the air outside the furnace room seemed eerily cold.
The king turned to ask the fae a question, but it had disappeared.
* * *
The very next day, the blight seemed to disappear. Seedlings sprouted and flowers bloomed. Within a week, every tree in the kingdom was clad in bright green leaves. The people rejoiced.
But the celebration was short-lived. Those closest to the borders of the kingdom soon noticed that the lands just beyond them still seemed to suffer from the blight. In fact, the blight seemed to have grown even worse. The grasses turned gray and blew away like ashes. Trees rotted and collapsed into a black, oozing sludge before the people's very eyes.
Within days, the corrupted lands surrounding the kingdom grew impossible to cross. Anyone who stepped so much as a toe into the ring of corruption died instantly. Travelers from neighboring lands quickly learned to avoid the kingdom. The citizens of the kingdom quickly realized that they were prisoners in their own land.
The king learned of this situation and despaired. The furnace seemed to be doing its job of keeping the blight beyond his borders, but it had created a new problem. He dared not let it go out, lest the blight cross the borders back into his lands. Alas, he was afraid that in time he would have no choice, for the treasury was quickly running out of gold. He raised taxes to gather more gold from the people. Already frightened and confused, his people turned angry when it appeared that the king cared only about money and was indifferent to their suffering.
But the worst was yet to come. Though it was true that the plants and the animals in the kingdom no longer suffered from the mysterious blight, the health of the human citizens began to fail. Young children and the elderly were the first to succumb, the strength seeming to simply drain out of them. Their corpses were gray, papery things.
Finally, the king could think of nothing but to summon the fae again and ask for more help. When the fae arrived, it was smiling that terrible smile again. Seeing it, the king's desperation turned to outrage, and he pointed an accusing finger at the fae.
"You lied to me! You said that the furnace would keep the blight outside our borders!" he said. Even as he spoke these words, he realized that they were foolish. Everyone knew that the fae did not actually lie.
"I have spoken no lie," said the fae, its evil grin undiminished by the king's insult. "Do not your plants and animals flourish now? The blight remains outside your kingdom."
"But my people sicken and die!" said the king.
"True," said the fae. "That is a consequence of our agreement."
The king was struck speechless for some time by this pronouncement.
"What?!" he finally managed. "That's ridiculous! The whole purpose of your aid was to keep my people safe! Nothing is more precious to me than the lives of my people!" Something about what he had just said made the king feel cold. A terrible realization began to creep over him.
"I offered to construct a furnace for you that, so long as it burned, would keep the blight beyond your borders," said the fae. "The furnace, however, would be fueled by that which you hold precious. And, as you requested, the furnace would also burn gold." The fae's horrible smile widened. "In fact, it will burn anything. But that is not what keeps the flames burning."
"What? I did not request that the furnace burn gold! You said that…you meant that… the furnace would be fueled by…?" the king's voice faded as he realized the full horror of that to which he had mistakenly agreed.
"Yes," said the fae, "as we agreed, the furnace is fueled by that which you hold precious. Not something so mundane as gold. No, it is fueled by that which is truly precious to you."
brigits_flame community. The prompt for this week was "fuel."Foreword: Here is an approximation of the metaphorical conversation that I had with my muse this week.
Muse: I have two ideas for you this week. One is funny and one is a dark fairy tale that will crush the spirit of all who read it.
Me: Ooh, these are both cool, but people like funny, so I'll take the first one.
Muse: I changed my mind. You can only have the fairy tale.
Me: But, I wanted to write the –
Muse: It's the fairy tale or nothing. Now, go create some imaginary people and make them suffer horribly. Go!
So…yeah. Sorry, no funny this week. Instead, you get:
Long ago, in a faraway land, there lived a proud and noble king. He cared greatly for his people, and they prospered under his rule…for a time.
At the beginning of what would come to be the final year of his reign, the land suffered under an especially harsh and cruel winter. The people rejoiced when at last the days grew warm again and the snows began to melt. However, several weeks passed and still the trees lay bare of new leaves. Seeds did not sprout. Flowers did not bloom. Stores of food unexpectedly and inexplicably spoiled.
The king realized that something was terribly wrong, and so he summoned his most trusted advisors and asked them what he might do to help his ailing land. Each counseled him as befit his position. The priest believed that they had found disfavor with the gods, and suggested more prayer. The master merchant favored trading for seeds and food from other lands. The general recommended seizing those lands by force. The jester advised more laughter.
The king considered their words, but felt in his heart that none of them were the proper course of action, and in the end he dismissed all of their ideas. This was his first mistake.
That night, the king dreamt of ravens. As any child knew, ravens were the favored bird of the fae. Perhaps, thought the king, this was a dream sent to him by the gods telling him that he should court the aid of the fae.
Seeking assistance from the fae was dangerous, for they could be cruel and deadly, and their motives were often unfathomable. Still, the brave and the foolish still struck deals with them since the possible rewards were so great. Surely the fae were powerful enough to help in this situation, and the proud king believed that he was wise enough to bargain safely with the fae. This was the king's second mistake.
When twilight arrived the following day, the king called for a saucer of cream from the kitchens. This he set at the foot of his throne, and then he waited. After a time, one of the many cats that dwelt in the castle approached the throne and began to lap up the cream. Everyone knew that between the hours of twilight and dawn, all cats had a connection to the fae. After the cat had finished its meal, the king leaned forward and spoke to it.
"I would speak with the fae," he said. The cat groomed itself for a moment, and then left. The king waited.
After a long while, the king heard the caw of a raven, and he looked to the window. In the shadows by the wall there stood a tall figure cloaked all in black. A single raven's feather fluttered lazily to the stone floor.
"You wished to speak," said the visitor. A human might have said these words as if they were a question, but the fae did not pretend ignorance, and they never suffered from uncertainty.
"A mysterious blight afflicts my lands. I would know what I might do to banish it," said the king.
The figure stepped from the darkness and slowly approached the king. Each step was carefully considered, as if the exact placement of the foot were a matter that required the utmost precision. At last the fae stood before the throne. At first, the king found the fae's features beautiful. Then he looked into the creature's eyes. He averted his gaze with a shudder.
"I would be happy to assist," it said. Here the king made his third mistake, for he did not clarify who or what the fae would assist. "I could construct a furnace for you," said the fae. "So long as the fire in the furnace burns, this blight that you speak of will be banished beyond your borders. But, it will be fueled by that which you hold precious."
"You mean gold?" asked the king, and made his fourth and most tragic mistake when he did not wait for the fae to answer him. "A high price indeed, but one that I would gladly pay to see the kingdom safe. Very well. Bring me this furnace that burns gold, then, so that I might rid my land of the blight."
The fae smiled. "I will return in seven day's time with a furnace that will burn gold," it said. Then, without turning, it reversed its path across the hall. Each toe was placed exactly where it had landed on the journey from the window. Once the fae had returned to the shadows the king averted his gaze, which was the only thing that he had done correctly during the entire encounter. The king heard the flapping of wings, and then he was alone in his hall once more.
The king was so delighted that he had found the solution to his problem that he failed to notice that the fae seemed to gain nothing for itself from the arrangement.
Six days passed, and the blight continued to worsen. Livestock began to sicken and die, and bread would not rise. On the evening of the seventh day, the king heard the caw of a raven. He looked to the window and saw that the fae had returned.
"Welcome," said the king, which was yet another mistake, though it paled in significance next to the previous four that had already doomed him.
The fae strode across the hall, graceful and imperious, and with none of the care it had showed a week ago. The king had given it much more freedom now that he had welcomed it into the castle. It smiled at the king – a cruel, predatory smile.
"I have brought you your furnace," it said. "I have placed it across from your treasury."
The king frowned. "But, there is not a room across from the treasury."
The fae's smile widened. "Come," it said, "I will show you your furnace." With that, it strode from the hall, pausing at the great doors and motioning for the king to follow it. The king, greatly disturbed, hurried after it.
When they reached their destination, the king could see that it was indeed a door across from the treasury, though he was certain that no such door had not been there yesterday. The fae produced a key made of dark metal and slid it into the lock. Then it turned the crystal knob and swung open the door.
The room was small and cramped, and it was made even more so by the fact that nearly the whole of it was filled with a great furnace made of brightly polished steel. A low flame already burned inside.
"It will burn gold?" asked the king, which was the wrong question to ask.
"Yes," answered the fae.
The king summoned the treasurer to unlock the vault. Then he summoned a servant to fill the furnace. The treasurer wept as the confused and frightened servant loaded gold coins into the furnace with a coal shovel. No one thought to ask why there were already flames inside the furnace.
The flames flickered for a moment as the coins crashed down upon them, but then they spread to cover the gleaming wealth. As the king watched, he could see that the gold did not melt. Instead, the metal turned black and then reduced to ashes just as if it were wood. The furnace filled the small room with a sharp, cruel heat that did not extend beyond the doorway. If anything, the air outside the furnace room seemed eerily cold.
The king turned to ask the fae a question, but it had disappeared.
The very next day, the blight seemed to disappear. Seedlings sprouted and flowers bloomed. Within a week, every tree in the kingdom was clad in bright green leaves. The people rejoiced.
But the celebration was short-lived. Those closest to the borders of the kingdom soon noticed that the lands just beyond them still seemed to suffer from the blight. In fact, the blight seemed to have grown even worse. The grasses turned gray and blew away like ashes. Trees rotted and collapsed into a black, oozing sludge before the people's very eyes.
Within days, the corrupted lands surrounding the kingdom grew impossible to cross. Anyone who stepped so much as a toe into the ring of corruption died instantly. Travelers from neighboring lands quickly learned to avoid the kingdom. The citizens of the kingdom quickly realized that they were prisoners in their own land.
The king learned of this situation and despaired. The furnace seemed to be doing its job of keeping the blight beyond his borders, but it had created a new problem. He dared not let it go out, lest the blight cross the borders back into his lands. Alas, he was afraid that in time he would have no choice, for the treasury was quickly running out of gold. He raised taxes to gather more gold from the people. Already frightened and confused, his people turned angry when it appeared that the king cared only about money and was indifferent to their suffering.
But the worst was yet to come. Though it was true that the plants and the animals in the kingdom no longer suffered from the mysterious blight, the health of the human citizens began to fail. Young children and the elderly were the first to succumb, the strength seeming to simply drain out of them. Their corpses were gray, papery things.
Finally, the king could think of nothing but to summon the fae again and ask for more help. When the fae arrived, it was smiling that terrible smile again. Seeing it, the king's desperation turned to outrage, and he pointed an accusing finger at the fae.
"You lied to me! You said that the furnace would keep the blight outside our borders!" he said. Even as he spoke these words, he realized that they were foolish. Everyone knew that the fae did not actually lie.
"I have spoken no lie," said the fae, its evil grin undiminished by the king's insult. "Do not your plants and animals flourish now? The blight remains outside your kingdom."
"But my people sicken and die!" said the king.
"True," said the fae. "That is a consequence of our agreement."
The king was struck speechless for some time by this pronouncement.
"What?!" he finally managed. "That's ridiculous! The whole purpose of your aid was to keep my people safe! Nothing is more precious to me than the lives of my people!" Something about what he had just said made the king feel cold. A terrible realization began to creep over him.
"I offered to construct a furnace for you that, so long as it burned, would keep the blight beyond your borders," said the fae. "The furnace, however, would be fueled by that which you hold precious. And, as you requested, the furnace would also burn gold." The fae's horrible smile widened. "In fact, it will burn anything. But that is not what keeps the flames burning."
"What? I did not request that the furnace burn gold! You said that…you meant that… the furnace would be fueled by…?" the king's voice faded as he realized the full horror of that to which he had mistakenly agreed.
"Yes," said the fae, "as we agreed, the furnace is fueled by that which you hold precious. Not something so mundane as gold. No, it is fueled by that which is truly precious to you."
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Date: 2008-10-18 10:16 am (UTC)Those will be children who learn an important lesson: Don't talk to cats. Er, I mean: Don't make bargains with supernatural forces beyond human understanding unless you're really, really careful. Maybe not even then.