Fields of Mist

This is a scene from one of the stories that I’m working on.  It was inspired by a picture prompt from the WriYe DreamWidth.


e29d587dc77190b5e4262f3b88bad5ba“Looks kind of creepy,” Keenan said, his voice soft.  He glanced over at Jakob and added, “Am I right?”

Jakob rolled his eyes.  “I was just about to say that it looked rather lovely, actually,” he said.  He ruffled a hand through his hair and his wings shifted on his back.  “What are we supposed to be looking for anyway?”

Keenan waved his arms in an expansive shrugged.  “Tristan said that we would know it when we saw it,” he said, rolling his eyes.  He started across the field of purple flowers towards the single tree that stood at the center.  “If I was a Cygman Loremaster, where would I hide an ancient and precious magical staff?”

“Under the only tree in this entire field,” Jakob said, his tone matter-of-fact.  He snorted to cover a laugh and shook his head.  “You know, when this fog burns off, it’ll be a beautiful day.  I catch the best updrafts on days like this.”

“I did not know that,” Keenan said, shaking his head.  He slowed his steps as they finally reached the tree.  “Yeah,” he said, nodding.  “This is it.”  He glanced around.  Switching to his native language, he said, “Bartholomew, I need a detect magic charm… Do it now.”

A moment later, he felt magic flow from him and into the rabbit, which was hidden from Jakob’s sight.  Then, it flowed back into Keenan and out into the ground surrounding the tree.  Just at the base of the tree, a spot lit up like a beacon.  “There,” Keenan said, pointing to it.

Jakob heaved a sigh and, together, they began digging in the location.  It didn’t take them long to find a long, narrow box with runes carved into the surface.  Jakob lifted the box out of the ground and Keenan set to work filling the hole.

“So,” he said, “now, we just bring this back to Tristan and… he’ll probably give it to Wytha to play with.”

“Nicholai will have it opened within moments of seeing it,” Keenan said.  He frowned when he noticed that Jakob was scowling at him.  “What?”

“Why do you call him that?”

Keenan rolled his eyes.  “Nicholai is his name, Jakob,” he said.  “Wytha is just the identification that his master gave him.  Did you really think anyone would name a child something like that if their family name was ‘Darkhorse’?  You serious?”

Jakob shrugged.  “He never told me his proper name,” he said, his tone thoughtful.  He shrugged again and nodded.  “Let’s get back to the castle, before something besides cold and wet comes out of all this mist.”

“Works for me,” Keenan said, nodding.  He was done with creepy fields of mist, no matter how pretty they might look.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: