type-mage

[type-mage]

The Green Demon, an original story inspired by the chinese xianxia/cultivation setting.

summary:

“I cannot go against my orders, however much I want.” He shook his head. “It hurts me that we will never see each other again...”

“Because I’ll go to heaven,” Luson whispered, suddenly remembering the words inside a mist of memories.

“And I will always return to hell.” Fengmian concluded.

As sword masters and cultivators of spiritual energy, Green Hazes have been the ghost specialists ever since ancient times. Yet, Lin Luson, current Green Haze of the country, has lost his energy completely and fallen ill after his master’s death. The country is falling into chaos as ghosts and monsters get free reign.

Then a young man, Fengmian Fang, appears on his doorstep, determined to learn his ways and help him heal. But what Fang doesn’t tell him is that he is a demon, sent by his contractor to kill him once all of Luson’s knowledge has been shared.

To make things worse, feelings tend to have their own plans, tying the men closer to each other than any of them ever expected.

Chapter 1

It was like the hall was bathing in ocean waves. The sapphires reflected the sunlight onto the fluttering blue curtains until it hit the wooden floor in colours of the sea.

The sapphire emperor laid back into this pure blueness in fine robes the same colour.

They said every emperor chose one of the precious rocks in the mines, one in their favourite colour, and laid claim to all he could find of it. Still, it couldn’t be called a tradition yet, since he was only the second of his line after the great revolution.

“Your highness” Fengmian Fang kneeled, so his long black hair covered his orange eyes and the fangs peeking out from under his upper lip. Even as demon, his submission was all but an act. He’d had to accept his loss at this bargain, but a human life was so fleeting. It was only a matter of time until he was free again.

The emperor regarded him with strict, cold eyes. “Fengmian, you are late.”

“I’m sorry, sire,” the demon answered humbly. “Your last task took a little longer than expected. The bandits turned out to be with twice as many. I had to hunt all survivors as you ordered.”

A curt nod was all he received. He was just a demon. Praise was too good for him.

“I have a new task, one that needs great care.”

“All your wishes are mine to fulfil,” Fang assured dutifully.

The emperor simply ignored the words and stared at his biggest sapphire on the wall with a thoughtful expression.

“They once called him The Green Haze, The Nature God, Protector of the living. But now he’s just known as a lazy bum. They call him Tree Stump or Autumn Leave, as he’s become unmoving and uncaring, an old, rotten entity. The great sword master won’t even take a pupil, leaving us without protection against ghosts and your kind. I have warned him, but he will not listen.” The emperor sighed. “I want you to meet Lin Luson, get him to trust you and teach you what he knows. We need a new protector. Then you kill him as punishment for his crime of abandonment.”

Fang grinned slowly. Now that was an interesting task. He’d fought the last Green Haze. The master had been on par with his strength. He didn’t mind finding out about this strong spoiled brat that was left behind, learning his ways. As demon, he was the perfect guy for the job. He was strong and knew how to harness his large pool of spiritual energy. As immortal being he was way more patient than any human could be. He had gotten good at tricking people into trust. All taught by the sapphire emperor, who had beaten him at his own play.

“As you wish, sire. I’ll leave immediately.”

Lin Luson’s head felt like someone had hit it with a hammer. Even more exhausted than when he had hit the bed, he rolled to his side and regarded his cabin with half open eyes. The pot of incense on the nightstand had stopped smoking, probably the reason he’d woken up in the first place.

So tired.

He had to get out. The ghosts in the pits had surely become restless. If he let them escape, he’d never forgive himself. Even if he was a good for nothing who didn’t go for hunts anymore, this was still a responsibility he couldn’t abandon.

But he was so tired. His head felt like it was made of lead. How could he possibly raise it? In his mind he was already following all the steps he had to do and they seemed impossible to finish.

Just get out of bed first, he told himself, start by swinging out a leg.

Agonizingly slowly, he moved himself upwards until he was sitting. With a deep sigh he ran his fingers over his eyes, rubbing them in defeat.

If this was already so hard, it didn’t promise well for today.

Up, he told himself, Stand up.

Finally, he got on his feet and started shuffling to the backdoor. He didn’t bother brushing his long black hair, neither pulling on new robes, even though these were crinkled and messed up from the fact that he had slept in them because he couldn’t bring himself to take them off.

With bare feet, he entered the grass in his garden and stepped onwards, to the metal lids in de ground. Ominous howls rose up from some, others rattled furiously.

He shouldn’t be working on this in his current state. Any kind of weakness could end up in a break free, getting hurt or worse, possession. But there was nobody else to do this. He had to take whatever energy he had and invest it here.

Fiercest ghosts first, he decided as always. He shouldn’t end up doing those after the little ones exhausted him.

Supressing a sigh, he took stance at a rattling metal disk. The screams inside were enough to make a grown man run, but Luson stood his ground.

He raised two fingers at his chest, holding the palm of his other under it. Mumbling softly under his breath, he cited the spells he could remember even better than his own name.

The screaming grew even more vicious for a moment, then died down. The lid slid back into calmness.

For a moment, Luson stood and panted, his spiritual power wavering after the exercise. He really wasn’t the strong master anymore he used to be. Yet, he straightened his back and shuffled to the next one.

Luson’s head was ready to detach from his shoulders when he returned inside. With the last of his effort, he put some rice in a pan to cook, then slid down against the kitchen cabinet.

He was done. So tired, he could barely move. He wasn’t even able to make tea, instead he grabbed the bucket of water he’d brought in and dipped his face in to drink, so half of his tangled hair got soaked. Disgusting. But the only way to keep himself hydrated.

Then he sat there, waiting for any kind of spark in his head to move himself. When it finally came, his rice was a sticky brew and the water in the pan was almost gone.

This too, he ate with bare hands straight from the pot when it cooled down. Again disgusting. He hated himself for it.

Finally, he’d drunk and eaten so he wouldn’t fall ill. He could return to bed now. Just another filling of two root in his incense burner and he’d be good to go.

But even that couldn’t move him back to his feet. He stared at his sticky, gross hands, his head heavy and empty, bursting with pain.

Only a few knocks on the door woke him from that painful, apathetic state.

No, please, I can’t handle this. He groaned and dropped his face in his hands. Too exhausted to live, let alone help others.

“I can’t help you!”

Fang found the cottage with ease. It was somewhat remote, but in town everyone knew the place. However, when inquiring about it, everyone had advised him to give up. Few still came from far to ask for help, but the old Tree stump wouldn’t help anyone new. He rarely even showed up in town anymore. A lazy bum like that didn’t even deserve the name Green Haze.

Fang had thanked them with a honeyed voice, but taken no heed of their warnings. He wasn’t here for “help”. He was here to bond.

So he made his way up the hill, to the cottage and knocked politely.

“I can’t help you!” A hoarse voice called out to him from inside.

No footsteps followed, so Fang knocked again.

“I don’t work as The Green Haze anymore. Find someone else!”

Fang grinned. Lazy indeed. The man didn’t even take the effort of coming to the door to tell people off.

“I’m not here for help,” he assured with honey in his voice. “Will you please open the door for me, kind sir? I want to speak with you. It won’t take much time. I have come from afar. Please allow me a single spare moment?”

That seemed to do the trick, because after a moment of hesitation the door opened on a little crack.

Through the slid, a single brown eye met Fang. Next to it hung matted strands of wet hair. The green robes of the sword master were dirty and crinkled. Yet, even in this sorry state, the demon was surprised by the young man’s handsomeness. Surely, if this one would take care of himself and stick his hair up, others would be entranced by his beauty. Such a pity that humans tended to be uncaring of their own worth and end up this lazy instead. This man was a disgrace. A beggar had better hygiene.

“I have brought some wine and nuts,” he held up each item in one hand as he mentioned them. “Will you share them with me, sir? You can tell me about your past great deeds.”

“Is that all?” The voice behind the door asked curtly.

“Oh no, sir. I’m really just looking for a person to call a friend. Since you are living so remotely, surely you’d appreciate some good company on its time as well.”

It wasn’t enough.

“I don’t have time.” The door was shut in Fang’s face.

“I can wait,” Fang offered against better judgement.

“I’m busy, leave!”

Fang frowned indignantly, but turned around and left. Busy with what? Sitting at home doing nothing? Spoiled brat!

But he quenched the feelings and smirked. He’d have to come with a different plan.

Luson had hoped a better day would come so he could finally wash his hair, but it was all he could do to survive and reseal the ghosts that week.

When standing he felt so sick he wished for his bed, but when in bed he couldn’t sleep and lay tortured by headache.

Still, he moved out every morning to the lids, to mutter his spells and protect the people from the monstrosities in the pits. Then he’d go to the well, fetch a bucket of water to take inside so he could drink and cook rice.

Until one morning, a desperate voice rose from within the well, crying for help.

However bad he felt, Lin could never ignore these sounds of distress. Someone was fighting for their life in there.

He remembered his master, rushing to aid any creature in need, but there was no time to dwell on the memories. He had to act fast. The water in there could be ice cold and the gods knew how long the man had been stuck in there!

“I’m coming!” he shouted back. “Hold on!”

The cries died out. Perhaps because he’d been heard, but Luson was worried about the other possible option.

Swiftly, he tied one side of the rope to the wooden structure of the well, then bound his hands with ripped off pieces of his robe. He grabbed the other end with the bucket and slid down.

It was dark down there, but he descended until he could feel water lapping at his waist before he lifted one hand and called upon a light orb in his palm.

The cold blue light set the well inside an eerie glow, drawing out shiny stones and sharp shadows. Pressed to the wall was a soaked figure, desperately holding on to the stones. His black hair lay plastered to his neck and the red robes hung heavily in the water.

“Grab my hand.” Luson extended it. “I’ll carry you out.”

The man turned his head, then flung himself off the wall to the hand. He couldn’t grab it, but Luson got a hold on his collar, so he could throw him up and catch him at his chest.

A pained huff told him the man wasn’t just in danger of drowning, but hurt as well, but there was nothing he could do about it here.

Holding the man tightly to his chest, he swung the rope until his feet hit a wall, then pushed off on the stones. Jumping from one side to the other, he climbed back up to the light.

They were both panting when he lowered his load on the grass and fell to his knees. His stamina had degraded more than he’d expected.

“Thank you,” the man whispered, still shuddering, “Thank you.”

Only now, as Luson looked at him, he realized he’d seen this man before. He’d been at the door some time ago to drink and talk with him, but he’d turned him down. Had he been here for the same reason again? But then how had he fallen into the well?

“Let’s get you warmed up and treated inside.” This was not the moment to ask these questions.

He hoisted the man on a shoulder and carried him in.

“I’m Fengmian Fang,” the man told him under his laboured breath.

“Lin Luson. Now stop talking.”

He put Fengmian on the bed after helping him out of his soaked clothes. There were serious cuts all over Fengmian’s body, like he’d fended off a sword attack.

“Lie down and wait here.”

Luson grabbed some herbs he had lying around, together with some bandages. As he returned, Fengmian was already inspecting the wounds, despite his weakened state.

“I said lie down.” He pushed the man down against the bed. “Let me treat this. You need rest.”

There was a sigh, but apart from that, Fengmian said nothing and let the care wash over him.

Luson worked quietly and efficiently. Apart from these fresh wounds, the skin was perfectly smooth. No scar or damage was to be seen. For a moment he allowed his fingers to travel the soft, perfect surface, aware of how the muscles relaxed at his touch.

He’d been told he was handsome, but this man was in an almost otherworldly category. His face was fine and elegant, his eyes sharp and a strange hue of orange. Luson had never seen anyone like him before.

Curious, he sent his mind out for a tender attempt to connect, but he could barely find the other. The currents around it were so alien, he was swept into confusion.

“You have lots of herbs,” Fengmian finally commented when Luson was working on the last smaller cut.

“You should sleep,” Luson responded kindly. “I also have something against the pain if you need it.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Luson nodded, grabbed his supplies and left to get the last few herbs.

“Do you go out yourself to find them?” Fengmian asked, his voice growing a little stronger.

“Yes, it’s easy for someone with my abilities.” Though he hadn’t been out for it for ages. His tworoot stash was shrinking uncomfortably low. “I can detect their presence.”

He handed Fengmian a bowl of water and a few poppy seeds. “Try to drink. Then these should help you sleep.”

“Thank you,” Fengmian repeated. “I will do all I can to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Luson helped the man take his water and seeds, then lowered him back to the bed. The man’s black hair caressed his hands, leaving his fingers tingling. Carefully he freed it from the braids, so Fengmian would lie better. It was an interesting design not many men would take the time for every morning. A braid went from his forehead backwards to two others which started around his temples. At the back they were tied together and continued as one larger braid over the rest of the loose hair.

“Sleep well.” Luson whispered as the other sunk into an exhausted sleep.

As tired as he was himself, he still sat at the bed the rest of the day.

#The Green Demon #chapter 1 #Lin Luson #Fengmian Fang

[type-mage]

When a broken vampire adopts three broken kids in a broken world. enjoy this first piece of WIP

Nothing, again.

Terence wasn’t even sure what he was searching for, but this city had nothing out of ordinary at all. It was just as broken and abandoned as any place. He’d better visit the hospital to pick up some bloodbags before sunrise and then drive on to the next destination on his list. It was proving easier to find loot in hospitals the deeper he went into the apocalyptic zone. They didn’t have time to use them here. You’d either escaped or died and that was the end of it.

Terrence curled up his lip in disgust by the smell of rotten bodies on the main streets. There had been too much for the creatures to eat here. They had left the less interesting pieces of flesh and bones to decompose.

To be honest, he had met less monsters than he had expected. There had been so many when it all started.

He just opened the door to his black Volvo when the screams sounded. Surprised he froze and looked behind him, trying to track its origin. He could swear they seemed human. Yet, those who were hard enough to survive at places like this didn’t yell like that. They knew better than attract all life in proximity.

Surely, three figures appeared from around a corner of a shop with broken windows. Their silhouettes clearly visible in the few street lights that were surprisingly still working. They didn’t look twice as they raced over the pieces of broken glass, their eyes wide with fear.

“Start the car!” One shouted.

“Wait for us!” Another screamed.

For a moment Terrence just stared at the three kids, running for their lives. The next, a great blueish monster rounded the corner, drool splattering from its mouth. It was gigantic, the size of a big workhorse at least, with a long muzzle filled with sharp molars. One giant claw shone yellow on every front paw.

Dammit, it had all gone so smoothly.

With a swift move, he was inside the car and the engine roared to life. His foot lingered above the gas as he looked into the rearview mirror. The kids were nearing, but so was the creature.

He could just leave them here. Less chance the thing would follow him and wreck the car that had never let him down.

Yet, something told him he wouldn’t be sleeping properly for the next few days if he did just that.

The doors slapped open in the hurry for the human kids to crawl into the car. Before the last one had properly made it to his couch, Terrence was already speeding away. He didn’t care about the screaming, neither that the three were somehow struggling to stay inside as he turned his wheel and rounded a corner with screeching tires.

“Close that damn door!” He yelled as he checked the size of their head start in the mirror.

He cursed and made a sharp bent into a small alley. The monster slowed down a little as its hips hit a building. Yet, it didn’t seem to be in much pain, running on adrenaline as much as they were.

The kids scrambled, but Terrence had no time to check on them. The next moment a loud bang told him the door was shut.

“Faster!” One of the kids screamed, like it was helping at all.

“We’re gaining on him!” Another yelled in the same unhelpful matter.

Terrence hissed angrily. “Just shut the fuck up. I’m trying to concentrate here!”

They drove straight over a round-a-bout, leaving the outgrown grass flattened in a straight line. Finally, the exit to the high ways came into sight. Most monsters wouldn’t go too far from the cities, he had found. Perhaps it was the fact that most food was between those buildings.

“If I lose this car, I will personally sue all of you,” he found himself hissing nastily.

That seemed to enrage one of his new passengers. “We’re about to die and you care about your car?!”

“I don’t see you driving me all around Eropis!”

“Shut up, he said he needed to concentrate!” snapped another one of them.

Great, he already loved this bunch. The perfect set of kids to pick up when you were known as a true loner to your own race. Just what he needed in these deadly apocalyptic lands.

The beast behind them broke into a trot and finally ended the chase.

Terrence sighed in relief, put the car on cruise and leaned back as they rode the empty highways.

“My god, we’re still alive.” A girl sighed from right behind him. “I really thought we were done for. I told you we shouldn’t have gone out during night!”

Terrence finally had the time to take them all in now. All were teenagers, about beginning of high school age. In the middle was a boy with brown hair, who had called for him earlier to start the car. Apart from that, he didn’t think he’d heard the kid talk yet. To the right sat a pretty blond girl with the nastiest scowl he’d ever seen on anyone. She could almost pass for a hungry vampire with the look of pure violence she sent them all.

“No-one says we’d have been safe if it had been daylight instead!” She snapped in reply. “Who knows how many monsters would have seen us then!”

The girl behind him had long black hair that had the tendency to fall over half her face. She was remarkably short, but seemed to hide that behind a mask of femininity. Her eyes and lips were hidden behind a mask of make-up, her voice was ridiculously high and her motions were exaggerated.

“As a matter of fact,” Terrence interrupted them before the girl behind him could reply. “Day is a saver time for humans. The monsters are more active during night and rely less on sight than we do.”

The girl sent the blond one an “I-told-you-so”-expression which was met with something that Terrence could only name a “death-glare” like he had never seen before.

“So what now?” The boy said, finally mentioning something useful. Terrence already decided he liked him the best. The quiet ones, were always the observant ones.

“What now is all up to you,” Terrence decided as he leaned back in relaxation. The danger was finally leaving his nerves, allowing him to think more clearly again. “You have two options: either I leave you at the next gas station and you make the way to the living world on your own, given you start acting like people without a death wish. Or you stay with me and go even further into the apocalyptic zones, which is basically just as dangerous, since at least you’ll have me to keep you from dying the first step you take.”

Three pale faces stared at him through the rearview mirror.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I don’t have the time and gas to drive you all the way to the saver places. Besides, you’d have to take a boat for that and I don’t know when and where the next one will arrive. There is little to come for after all.”

“So, it’s either die alone or die with a weirdo who likes his car more than his life?” The blond girl summed up grumpily.

The dark haired one snapped at her: “Stop that, he just saved our lives!” She moved in to his chair. “Thank you for that mister. Could you tell us your name?”

The blond girl merely narrowed her eyes at that.

“Terrence,” he answered cynically. “And don’t mention it.” He’d almost lost his car over it. Besides, he didn’t have any blood to spill on unnecessary fights with monsters. But what did these kids know about that? He didn’t think they had even realized yet that he wasn’t like them.

“I’m Lisa,” the girl told him politely. “This is Sander and Erika. Don’t mind her, she’s always in a bad mood.”

“Shut up!” the other reacted angrily.

“Now I am curious.” Terrence finally turned to face them, after all, the road was all empty and straight anyway. “How did you guys survive? I thought everyone left behind was dead by now.”

“Basement,” Erika growled before she averted her face to the blackness behind the window.

Lisa picked up the explanation. “We were at a restaurant for a school trip when it all happened. We were all sitting in the back, so we ran the other way, hoping to find an emergency exit. Instead we found an employee escaping to the basement, so we followed and he locked it. There was lots of food and drinks there. The employee left at some point, but never returned, so we decided to stay as long as we could. We were just about to run out of anything to drink, so that’s why we went out tonight.”

“Ha!” Terrence laughed as he turned back to the road sliding by in the darkness. “Who would have thought there’d be such lucky kids out there. I wonder how many more like you there are still hiding out there.”

“It doesn’t matter if we die,” Erika grumbled.

“So, what will it be?” Terrence asked matter of factly. “Die alone, or die with the weirdo who has been able to keep himself alive until now?”

He wasn’t even sure why he was giving them the choice. He probably shouldn’t have, because two behind him immediately replied with “We’ll stay.”

Erika scowled, but she didn’t say anything herself, so he took that as an agreement.

He was an idiot. He decided. He was a loner. What was he doing saddling himself up with three teenagers in this broken land?

#my writing #story #fic #oc #vampire #hurt/comfort #adoption #apocalypse

[type-mage]

I felt like writing something like a fairy tale. (art also by me)  Enjoy. 

The fire that brings spring

It was on a sunny spring day that the girl caught the firefox. She had laid the traps for years, just for this moment. Her eyes were itching, her nose running. That morning she had sighed as so often before. “If only,” she had wished. “If only spring wouldn’t come, I wouldn’t be feeling so bad.”

Now, her wish was ready to come true.

The fox looked up at her with begging eyes. “Dear, sweet little girl. Look at me caught in this cruel trap. Will you please free me before the hunter comes?”

The girl felt for the fox, but she was unable to comply. “I am very sorry, pretty fox, but I can not let you go. I’ll be taking you home instead.”

The fox said no more and let her take him. She put him in a cage, in the cellar.

Then she visited her grandfather, like every day. He gave her cookies and spoke to her about the wonders of nature. As so often, he told her how spring had come, because the firefox had woken everything up. He told her the hayfever would subside soon. She just had to hold out a little longer.

Months went by and the girl was sure to feed the fox whatever he asked for. She gave him all he wanted, except the freedom he needed most.

“Dear, sweet little girl,” the fox pleaded one day. “Summer is neigh. Please release me so I can absorb the sun and smell the flowers.”

The girl felt again for the fox, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, pretty fox, but if I free you, how will I be sure that I will catch you again? I can not let you go now.”

The fox said no more and let her take care of him ever longer, his eyes growing sad.

The sun grew warm and bright. Nature flourished in green. The girl’s itches finally grew less, yet wouldn’t ever leave her alone.

She visited her grandfather and again he told her the hayfever would subside as soon as the flowers would wither.

“Dear, sweet little girl,” the fox begged her again a few months later. “Summer has passed and autumn is here. It is time for me to find my hollow and prepare for sleep. Will you please let me go?”

The girl could feel for the fox’s sad tone of voice. Yet, she responded negatively: “I’m sorry, pretty fox, but I can not let you go. If I let you fall asleep I will not see you before spring again.”

The fox said no more and lay down with clouded eyes.

She gave him extra soft pillows, yet, he would not cheer up. He stopped eating her coals and only looked at her with pain.

The leaves turned red and gold like the sunset. They kissed the ground, where creatures scurried through them. Squirrels hid their nuts and bears ate twice their weight in honey.

“Just a little longer,” grandfather assured her. “The last flowers are giving their all now.”

Surely, the itching was finally subsiding.

“Little girl, I beg of you!” the fox pleaded desperately now. “Winter is about to start. I feel the sleep weighing me down. If I am not at my hollow, I will not wake up in time. Spring will never come.”

The girl couldn’t do anything but grieve for the creature, yet she answered once again: “I’m sorry, pretty fox, I can not let you go. When spring starts I will feel so bad. As the flowers bloom my eyes will swell. My nose will run and everything will itch until I want to scratch myself bleeding. If spring never comes, that will be my dream come true.”

This time the fox did say more. “Spring is needed for all to awake. Without it other seasons will never come and all who live will fall ill.”

The girl said no more and left the fox alone.

Trees went bare and cold crept in. The fire fox fell into a deep slumber not a living soul could break. The girl rejoiced in the lack of itching and continued to look after her grandfather every day.

Winter did not stop. Without the firefox to wake the world, the cold went on and plants stayed asleep. Branches wouldn’t produce leaves. The animals wouldn’t wake up. The birds outside looked sad in their fluffed feathers, waiting for the moment to sing.

Grandfather looked outside in worry. As he shifted he grunted in pain. “Something must be up with the firefox. My joints can’t take this cold much longer. Spring needs to start now, or all will suffer and die.”

Seeing her own grandfather hurt, the little girl felt incredibly sorry. She hurried back to the fox and carried it into the woods. Yet, it continued to sleep and would not awaken spring.

“You must find its hollow,” a magpie told her with raspy voice. Its feathers looked ruffled from the long season. “The forest spirit can tell you where it is. Follow the river towards its source and go even deeper into the forest from there. You will find him.”

The girl lifted the fox and carried it the long way. She grew thirsty and hungry. Her feet started to rough and her legs grew tired. Yet, she did not give in and continued to walk. The thought of her hurt grandfather pushed her on.

The forest spirit was a great, green dear, with antlers as bare as the branches. It looked at her sternly: “I will tell you where to bring the fox, only if you stay there until it wakes and will agree to the punishment it decides to render you.”

The little girl bowed before the spirit and swore to accept whatever punishment the fox would give her.

Thus, the spirit led her on towards a clearing, surrounded by stone walls. Purple flowers with long white stamens bloomed in the grass.

The girl laid the fox down and slept next to it, exhausted from her journey.

She dreamed she had flaming paws that rumbled on the ground. She chased through the bare forest and wherever her toes touched, green sprouted. Her fluffy tail waved to the waking plants and animals in warm welcome. Their happiness entered her body and filled her veins.

When she woke, the fox was standing before her. It looked at her with wise eyes. The girl pushed her face to the ground and apologized from the depth of her heart. “I am ready to receive any punishment you bestow upon me.”

“Come with me,” the fox told her.

They left the hollow and met a dark, sad forest.

“All seasons,” the fox explained, “are needed for balance. Every one of them has their upsides and downsides. Yet, they are all necessary for life. Spring gives the joy of awakening, summer allows one to thrive in warmth, autumn delivers us colors and preparation and winter will let us rest from the excitement. Rather than linger in your suffering, you should see the good sides and look forward to what is to come. Because every year, the season you love most, will appear once again. Not any kind of suffering in life is everlasting. Neither can you hurt others to comfort yourself.”

The little girl fell to her knees as his words reached her. She realized her big mistake and felt tremendously guilty. “I’m sorry, pretty fox. I should have let you go.”

“Dear, sweet little girl,” the fox decided. “As punishment to my imprisonment you will watch the beauty of spring outside all season long, despite the bad feeling it brings to you. After that, I am sure you will understand.”

The fox said no more as it took off from beside her. It ran through the forest, leaving a trail of green in its wake. The little girl could see the world awaken before her eyes.

It was spring yet again.

#my writing #fairy tale #firefox #spring #hay fever #short story #writing #fic #long post

[type-mage]

little drabble of a modern AU Vallion for christmas

Vallion’s teeth clattered together as the hoofs collided with the roof. He grunted and needed a second to recover before he could jump off.

Joyriding a flying reindeer was fun, but taking it on business was a whole different thing. Jealously he pictured santa in his comfortable slay on the other side of the country. It wasn’t fair he hadn’t given Vallion one.

He hoisted the bag a bit higher on his shoulder, then looked for a ventilation shaft or anything else that could work with his transportation magic. It was probably easier to find an open window from the ground, but santa wouldn’t hear it. Sticking to tradition was his thing, since he couldn’t let the childeren doubt his existence.

It didn’t take long. With held breath he focused on the opening and let the magic bubble through his veins.

The experience was everything but comfortable. His body was squashed and molded until it could slip through. The air was forced from his lungs, making him gasp for breath when it finally stopped.

He stood in a small, cozy living room. The christmas tree stood proudly in a corner, ready to receive the presents.

Quietly, Vallion snuck to it, moving slow enough to keep the bell on his red hat silent. There, he reached into the bag silently. Immediately little elf hands pushed a package in his fingers to deliver under the tree.

The bag was really just a portal. So the gifts could be transfered from the north pole to santa’s hands. Or in this case, Vallion’s.

The last gift was too big. He put the bag between his knees, had to stick in both his hands and pulled with all his might. A heavy box slowly appeared, ringing suspiciously.

He hated the bikes.

Finally done at the house, Vallion hoisted the bag back on his shoulder and moved back to the vent he had entered through. He still had many packages to deliver tonight.

“You’re not santa!” Squeaked an indignant voice from behind him.

Vallion froze. His heart sank.

Very slowly he turned around, nervously tucking his red suit.

“You should be asleep.”

The girl gasped and stepped back. “You’re a fake! Are you trying to steal the presents? I won’t let you!”

“I’ve just delivered them,” he snapped in annoyance. “And you should go to bed, because if you open the presents before morning, you’ll be ending up on the naughty list.”

“But you’re not santa,” the girl insisted stubbornly.

His shoulder was aching. He really just wanted to move on, but santa would never accept him leaving the girl like this.

“I’m his helper.”

“He doesn’t need help, he has elfs.”

“Of course he doesn’t, but he ordered me anyway. It’s a punishment.”

Her eyes grew big. “What did you do?”

Immediately, Vallion felt his cheeks warm up at the memory and he rubbed his neck in embarassment. “I went joyriding with his reindeer and kind of wrecked the base with it.”

It had been the ride of his life though. One of the few things that had finally reminded him life could be fun.

Now there was a shocked adoration forming on her face.

“So, now you understand why I’m delivering the presents. Get back to bed now if you don’t want to end up on the naughty list.”

For a moment she looked at him with a begging expression, ready to ask more, but he straightened up and pointed a stern finger to the stairs. “Bed, or no presents next year.”

Disappointed, yet amazed, she finally backed off and left.

With a deep sigh of relief, Vallion concentrated on the shaft and dragged himself through it.

“I hate christmas,” he breathed as he climbed back up on the reindeer. The animal huffed agitated at the words until he apologized.

He still had a busy night ahead of him.

#Vallion #christmas AU #writing #christmas #santa

[type-mage]

(part 1: https://type-mage.tumblr.com/post/190446243932/with-a-snap-of-his-fingers-jills-captor-lit-all)

The Nightcharmer stretched himself and rolled his aching shoulders. He’d been sitting at his desk, staring at his book for hours, but he’d barely read any words. The girl kept occupying his mind and pulling it from his studies. He hadn’t wanted to keep her alive, but here he was, with a prisoner he didn’t know what to do with.

What had she even been doing out there at night? The woods were mostly empty after dark. Since a year he had even seen himself forced to go to the village and abduct meat personally. To his pride, word of disappearances was spreading and even neighboring villagers stayed carefully locked into their houses. Yet, here she had been yesterday. All alone outside, between the trees, so easy to take.

Was it a trap? Had someone tried to set him up somehow?

He groaned and rubbed his temples. Damn that Martin, why did he have to make the situation so distracting? He was still full on his studies, unsure how to proceed with his plan, and here his poltergeist made him worry about some girl.

He might be working on being a villain, but he was not going to make this into some stupid romance in which he suddenly turned good.

There was no turning back for him. He was going to go all out. He simply had to prepare properly. He’d been practicing his magic for years. Had studied old books. Had searched for information on ancient relics. He was full into working on his scheme and he couldn’t use any distractions.

Legends would tell about him in awe. People would cower when he got close. Never would he let them shun him again. Now it was his chance. And once on the throne, he would find strong women to bring forth his offspring, establishing a dynasty of a mighty magician’s country.

No-one would hurt him and call him a monster again. He would show them what a real monster was like.

The thoughts curled the corners of his mouth up and he sighed wishfully. He would need to be patient. He had to grow more powerful and slowly spread his dark tentacles of fear. Delicacy was to be his strongest feature.

A glass tinkled and made him look next to him. A little black shadow had risen from the ground, two hands at its top, that held a plate with a glass of wine.

“Thank you, Darky,” he murmured as he accepted the drink gracefully. “Don’t forget to offer the prisoner some too.”

The shade made a little bow with its formless body, then dissolved into the ground like oil dripping through the cracks.

He had bound her with magic for now. She was free to roam the house, but the spell would keep her from going outside in any way. If she were to get too distracting, he could clasp her back in chains, but Martin wouldn’t accept that unless he had a good reason.

He grimaced as he took a big gulp of wine in a not so elegant manner. He might be the evil magic overlord here, but as it was, his poltergeist ruled the house. If he hadn’t been so much of a friend and ally, he would have long fixed that.

He leaned back and sipped a bit more gracefully, remembering his aspirations. He couldn’t let this little thing sway him. He would use the girl to simply show even more of his villainous character. He would be graceful and smooth to her, but bitter hard and torturous whenever he liked. Martin couldn’t possibly expect from him to cuddle her like a puppy.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

A new plate was brought before him, this time with eggs rolled in ham, cheese covered with spices and little cakes. With a grateful sound, he accepted the food and took a bite of cheese.

“Very good, Darky, you’ve outdone yourself today.”

He leaned back over his book and reread the passage he’d been trying to understand for quite a few minutes already. Finally the words sunk in a little and started bearing some meaning.

The door opened. With a jolt he turned around, magic boiling inside his veins. He’d almost sent a blast of fire into the hallway, knowing the only one capable of opening doors wasn’t corporeal, but held himself back just in time.

Big, brown eyes stared at him in shock. The girl froze in the doorway, her hand grabbing her skirt and squeezing it tightly.

With a sigh he sunk back in his seat and let the magic sink back into his core. This was why he didn’t want any other people in the house.

“I… I… I’m s…”

He cut through her stammering with annoyance. “What is it you want?” With a wave of his hand his chair turned around to face her properly. The legs scratched over the wood, making her flinch.

“I didn’t know you were here,” she whispered uneasily. “I was just looking for someone to get me something to eat.”

His eyes widened and he shifted them to the shadow, still holding the plate of snacks.

“I thought you had just brought her some after I told you?”

The little bulge tilted in a questioning gesture.

“I… It brought me wine,” the girl answered softly. “But I don’t really drink that.”

The Nightcharmer sighed and rubbed his fingers against his forehead. “Right, I told you to bring her some when you offered wine. I should have known you would take it literally. From now on you will bring her food and drinks exactly the same as me and will give her anything she asks.”

The plate wiggled a little closer.

“You can leave that on my desk to make her some now. Why don’t you make you specialty?”

With a little bow Darky followed the orders and disappeared.

“Sit down.” As he said it, he flicked his hand, lifting books off a chair to the ground and the wooden object shifted towards the desk’s corner. “Take some of my food until he’s done.”

She nodded shyly and obeyed as he turned his chair back around.

“What are you doing?” She leaned over the table, trying to read passages of the books he had spread out, but came back frowning.

“Conjuring an evil plan, what else?” He smirked as he grabbed his feather and wrote a bit of information in his notebook, before turning a page.

“You’re kidding.” She sounded quite terrified nevertheless.

He chuckled and put his feather back in its stand. “Not at all. Every villain needs to do some organizing and preparing if they want to succeed in great things.”

“You don’t have to be a villain! I remember you from before. We were friends. I know you Vallion, you-”

In a second he had her throat in his hands, his fingers pushing until she gasped for air. Magic held her in place, making her unable to back away or fight.

He brought his face close to hers, hissing in fury. “Never, mention that name again. Don’t act like you know me. You betrayed me and left me for dead. I’m still here, but not as a weak little boy. If you speak to me, you will call me Nightcharmer or Lord of Darkness and none other. Is that clear?”

She gurgled something that sounded like a terrified agreement, so he let go of her. She crawled up inside her chair, shivering.

“Now that we’ve had that talk, we can get on to nicer things, don’t you think?” His voice was smooth as honey and he smiled at her evilly. “Why don’t you try one of the eggs, they are very good. Darky makes all the food himself.”

She went pale, but as if scared to cross him, she picked up the food and started nibbling it unhappily.

The sight of it filled him with power.

“So, it has been such a long time, I must admit I kind of forgot your name. It’s been about ten years after all. Ji… jinna, or something?”

“Jillianna,” she muttered softly.

At that moment Darky returned and offered her a plate. Silently she accepted it, but didn’t eat. The shade tilted its bulk questioningly, lowering its hands.

Jillianna looked at it insecurely. “Thank you?” she tried softly.

Now the bulk of Darky tilted the other way, its hands had disappeared.

She looked back at Nightcharmer with big, scared eyes.  

It amused him to no extend. “He wants to know what you think of the food,” he explained. “He’s a very proud worker.”

“Oh, oh,” Quickly she shoved her fork in her mouth and nodded approvingly, making humming sounds.

Darky, happy with the contentment, sunk back through the cracks.

Immediately, her expression fell. The lines in her face tensed and he could see she was trying to not spit out her mouthful of food.

He couldn’t help it. His chuckle rose into laughter as she struggled to swallow it without throwing up. Quickly, she shoved the plate on the littered desk. Her eyes were full of betrayal as she stared at him.

“What’s in that?”

He forced his laughter to die down and settled with an amused smirk. “It’s Darky’s specialty. Bark, with maggots, carrots, mushrooms and of course a bit of turtle. To spice it, he uses old, crusted horse blood and leech intestines.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, like she was going to throw up after all.

The best part was still to come. He chuckled evilly as he added. “You just told him you like it, so he might make you some more in the future.”

She shuddered and he could see her eyes water. With a graceful movement he picked his own plate up and offered it to her. “Feel free to take some snacks to wash away the taste.”

Immediately she grasped it and started shoving cheese and eggs into her mouth. Nightcharmer chuckled and bent himself back over his book.

He had been wrong to worry so much about this. It was actually much more fun than simply feeding her to Nishira.

#The dark side of the moon #Magician #Magic #Fantasy #enemy to lover #villain #romance #writing #Vallion

[type-mage]

“So, if you’re not a vampire, then what are you?” she dared to ask as they were almost back at her street.

Zer grinned, showing off his pointy teeth. “Just an immortal demon who stalks innocent girls like you at night for his amusement.”

She laughed. “No, but seriously. If you’re not a cosplayer or a vampire, then what are you?”

They were at her home now. She stopped at the door and he reached out to return the leash to her.

“As I said, you don’t believe me.” He studied her again, however, in contrary to the men the other night, he wasn’t really looking at her body at all. Instead, his red eyes traveled over her face and found hers, holding her steady on the ground, captured in his gaze. “But I don’t mind. I’d rather have you’re not afraid of me. Walking was fun.”

King pulled softly towards the door and Amanda had to give a jolt back to him. For some reason she wasn’t ready to go back inside yet. Something about Zer was so strange, so interesting. “Then would you walk with me again?”

His face split into a smile. “Well, that was exactly what I was hoping you would ask. How nice of you.” Then he reached out again, but this time not to her face, but her hand. He pulled it up softly, then made a graceful bow as he kissed her fingertips. His lips were soft and warm as they brushed her skin. “I’ll escort you again tomorrow night, if you wish so, my lady.”

She giggled and pulled back her hand. “Alright then, but don’t be late or I might go look for another not-cosplayer-or-vampire freak to walk with me.”

He grinned. His pupils morphed and changed into ovals like a cat’s. “Sure thing. No man in his right mind would keep a beautiful lady waiting.” He bowed again, ever so graceful, then stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

As she responded with a goodbye, he slid away into the night, fusing with the shadows around him, like he’d never been there.

#Love contract #Zerithyl #Fantasy #Romance #demon #writing

[type-mage]

With a snap of his fingers Jill's captor lit all candles.

He was nothing like the boy she had known before. His silver hair was neatly combed. A thick black cloak fell over expensive satin clothes, covered with dark leather. He stood elegant and sure, like a king in his palace. Dark blue eyes, specked with purple that danced on every movement, regarded her with disdain.

"Such an unlucky girl," the Lord of Darkness told her with a voice smooth as silk. "There at the wrong place at the wrong time. My little moonshine just happens to need a meal."

She couldn't believe it was really him. However, there was no mistake in that handsome face.

Don't ever let a mage take you in with how miraculous and handsome he is, she remembered her grandma's words. Those looks are given to them by the moon or sun they take their powers off. They are all cursed by the freeze of the moon or fire of the sun. None can be trusted.

"Which is it?" she found herself mutter curiously.

He looked at her with annoyance. His brows knitted theatrically at it. Everything about him was exactly the way a classic villain in a book or painting would be portrayed. It almost made her laugh, if she hadn't been scared to death of what he would do next. He obviously hadn't recognized her yet.

"Sun or moon?" she clarified.

"Moon, of course, hun," he purred as he stepped to a table and drunk from a silver goblet. "The sun mages are the good ones." The last sentence was filled with resentment as he slapped his drink back on the wood.

"Why are you doing this?" Jill asked desperately. Maybe she could talk him out of it somehow. There was no escape. The cuffs around her wrists were chained securely to the wall.

"I told you," he answered dryly. His eyes were ice cold. "My moonshine needs a meal."

Suddenly a gust of wind spun through the mansion. His eyes darted through the empty room.

"What is it Martin?"

Flames flickered. Then a book hit the ground next to her. She flinched and jolted on the chains in shock. The cover flew open and pages rustled. Finally it lay still.

Drawings. She looked at them with wide open eyes. These were the ones he always made as a boy. He would use his magic, to make almost lifelike drawings of them. The page in front of her, was a very familiar face. Her own past self laughed back at her from the paper.

"I told you I don't mind telling you about my books, Martin," the Lord of Darkness reacted in annoyance. "But this is not really the time. We can do that once she's been taken care of."

The book shoved over the ground, until it hit the toe of his expensive boot. He looked down at it with raised eyebrows, then sighed as he picked it up.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

The flames brightened as to make the drawing even clearer. He studied it then his eyes darted to her, lost in thought. Suddenly, surprise opened his face. Recognition dawned in his expression as he looked from her to the page.

"They definitely do look alike," he muttered softly.

The flames flickered again.

This was her chance.

"What made you like this?" she asked, trying to persuade him it was really her. He wouldn't hurt her if he realized they were childhood friends, right?

His attention snapped back to her personally and immediately the disdain returned.

"You," he answered so coldly she felt her chest freeze. "and all the others." He tilted his head as he regarded her once more. "But it doesn't matter, does it? I'm here and you're there, chained to be fed to my moonshine." As he smiled, white teeth, too perfect to be real, flashed at her. "You'll love her. She is incredibly pretty."

He whistled.

And pretty she was. A big panther stepped out from a corner behind a bookcase. Her fur shone silver with spots and wings as black as midnight. She was strong and still lean. Her paces were as elegant and sure as her owner's.

He opened a leather pouch on his hip and pulled a piece of dried meat from it. With a soft movement he flung it to her. The panther caught it and purred in pleasure. Then she came to him and pushed her head to his side.

It was funny to see someone as conscious of his stature as him lose his balance by the love of a cat. His laughter was real as he petted her. It echoed through the room and made his face light up, much unlike the villain he was trying to portray.

"Now, then, little moonshine, it's time for your dinner." He scratched her cheek lovingly.

However, a gust blew out half of the candles, the others flickered. The panther pricked up her ears.

"Martin," he sighed as he stared into the empty room. "Seriously? What do I care? I know who she is now. But my moonshine is hungry and..."

A metal click resounded. The cuffs fell of Jill's wrists. She froze, realizing she was free, but with a panther and mage in front of her, she didn't stand a chance running.

He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. "Did you just?"

The flames flickered again.

He sighed once more. The panther looked up at him with golden eyes.

"Fine, you get your wish," he growled finally. "I won't kill her. But she can't leave either. I can't have people thinking I'm growing soft." He glared at her coolly. "Congratulations. Your life was saved by my soft hearted poltergeist. From now on, you're my life long prisoner."

#The dark side of the moon #Magician #Magic #Fantasy #enemy to lover #villain #romance #writing #Vallion