The Fisherman and the Mermaid

’Twas a radiant Summer’s day, perfect for fishing on the West Coast Sea.  Jeremy had rowed his little forest-green boat all the way out of the Greenlandian Bay and into the big blue.  He was alone and he preferred it that way.  Audrey didn’t care how he went about his business, so long as he brought her back a catch.

And so long as he met her in secret to satisfy her other appetite, as well.  Truth be told, Jeremy didn’t know if their meetings really were a secret.  He suspected that his majesty, King James, did know, but didn’t care. 

Or at least, didn’t care enough to actually do anything about it.  Perhaps King James was too busy keeping his unruly daughter, Princess Aurora, in line.  Come the Full Harvest Moon, she would be seven Solar cycles of age; and with each trip around the Sun, Princess Aurora seemed to grow more and more unhinged. 

So, perhaps James was too busy dealing with Princess Aurora.  Or perhaps he was too busy satisfying himself with elven mistresses in the Solar Kingdom.  Or perhaps both.  Rumour had spread that little Aurora Green wasn’t really Audrey’s child, after all; that she was some half-elven bastard.  (Jeremy’s older brother, Raymond, who lived in the Solar Kingdom, often gossiped about King James, King Reinhard and even Emperor Sola in his booze-infused letters to Jeremy.)

Regardless, King James was busy.  And Audrey was lonely.  And she had quite the appetite for Sir Jeremy’s fish. 

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IV: Aurora and Luna | Prologue: A Near Thirteen Suns Prior

A man with hair black as ebony stood at the top of a tower… his tower.  He gazed triumphantly through the tall arched windows at the Full Worm Moon—she was big and golden.  The black-haired man was working right in line with the Cosmos: tomorrow was Ostara, the day of new beginnings, and thanks to him, New-Camelot would be brought into fruition.  He had done nearly everything he needed to do in order to manifest this.

All but one final task…

The man turned to a female elf who lay on the cold citrine floor.  She had dark green hair and bright green eyes, colours so similar to the forests his men had been cutting down.

She gave him a look that begged for mercy, but the man paid no attention.  (He was going to have to get used to ignoring such looks.)

As the man adjusted the hogtie in which she was bound, he simply let her scream—though she could not form any words, for he had her in a witch’s bridle as well.  This was a nasty-looking cage for the face, often made of iron—but of course, his was made of gold—that prevented the wearer from talking.  He reminded himself that he was doing all this for the benefit of the common folk.  They had begged him for help, begged him to save them, begged him to protect them.  

Saved them he had, and protect them he would; he was creating the new world they had dreamed of, a world where no folkian would ever have to live in fear of the monarchy.

This world, however, would require some level of sacrifice.

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The Trial of Titania Brown

“Greetings, folk of the Solar Kingdom. Today we gather for the trial of Misses Titania Brown, a mundane—or so she was sentenced to be!”

As Sola made his little speech, Titania shut her eyes tightly. She had never exactly been one for Divination or Metaphysical Magic, but she had to communicate with the Cosmos, beg the divine to just let her die.

“Yes, she was sentenced to a mundane life,” Sola continued, “as she was not deemed royal by the Cosmos, nor was she deemed noble. She is a giantess after all…”

At this, the Solar folk jeered:

“Disgusting giant!”

“A tainted folkian breed, indeed! Just filthy!”

“The giant race is too stupid to work with the Craft!”

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