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Introduction
Nov. 2nd, 2011 01:16 pmwritten for Brigit's Flame
Prompt: Introduction
WC:1212
Warning:deicide
Enter the Raven
It was a sunny day. Well somewhere or some when it was, and they were bound to find it. Hopefully, thought Falcon, without being involved in some of the gambits that Raven seemed to be drawn into on a regular basis. At least they found a hot, cloudless afternoon in Arizona. This was Coyote land, of course, but Raven and Coyote had actually been rather civil to each other of late. Falcon knew that it was bound to change at some point but she was going to enjoy the sun and the peace and quiet while she could.
Falcon had been caught up in an idle thought. She turned to Raven and asked “How exactly did you get to become Raven anyway? Were you born this way, or were we cursed with your presence later in life?” She smiled and kissed him lightly after that last question. She had learned that Raven could take a great deal of kidding, but sometimes he was a bit prickly.
“So you would like to know about young Raven,eh? He wrapped his arms around her, only the shadows against the rock showing their feathers. “Then let me tell you about the Introduction of Raven to the world.”
“Once or twice or so, just beyond the furthest field, lived a vainglorious but ugly ruler. Because he was a vain despot, he expected to be pandered and obeyed instantly because people wanted to. Being as ugly outside as he was inside, people tended not to do much pampering, which led to the ruler being very short tempered. So short tempered, that one of the things he eventually did was to outlaw anyone's laughter but his own.
For his own distraction, the ruler had taken advantage of his position and wealth by hiring his own jester. The jester was handsome, intelligent and strong. All of the things, in short, that the ruler was not. Every night it seemed the evil king would berate and harass him. Enough of this would make the evil degenerate feel better. Eventually the King would smile; a mirthless, rotten food sort of smile. For even the King could not stand the raw cacophony of his own laughter. And on the nights that he did laugh the jester knew there were extra beatings in store, as well as no food.
Finally the jester decided that he could stand no more of the beatings, verbal or physical. If his family had not had debts, he would never have taken this position. But mostly he missed the honest sound of laughter.
The jester went down into the village below the castle, among the children and the drunkards. He did pratfalls juggled, told jokes and played tricks. At first there was a stunned silence and the people of the town stared at him in disbelief. Then a small girl in dirty rags that might have once been a dress began to chuckle. After a few minutes she was joined by a staggering old drunk who had come over from the building he had been supporting by leaning against it.
Soon there was an echo from building to building like surf or Spring rain. It rapidly spread throughout the poor quarters of the town and began to make its way up the hill. Laughter, like sneezing or yawning, can be highly contagious. Eventually the entire town was reverberating with the sound of chuckling, tittering and giggling. Sometimes, from block to block, there was an even an occasional guffaw.
It was just a matter of time before the sound of joy and laughter resonating from the village to the grim, stone walls of the castle. And from there to the ears of the king. At first he was just irritated, for it had been so long since he had heard the songs that he had forgotten what they were. Then, as he began to remember, he grew angry. His anger grew and grew until finally he actually became apoplectic in his rage. He clutched his heart and fell over dead as he reached for his throne.
His oldest son and heir came quickly when he heard the news. His first order as the new king was to have the body of his father disinterred and thrown on the dung heap outside the royal stables. You would think that anyone who had grown up in the shadow of the evil king would remember what such pain and suffering were like and act in kind and kindness. But it soon became apparent that the new king had learned the wrong lessons altogether. People soon learned to their dismay that he was even more evil as well as being almost as ugly. Even more dangerously, he was much smarter in a devious way then his late, unlamented father. The son knew that what had happened once could happen again. He was afraid that under his rule, happiness could in time lead to revolution. He sent out an edict for the arrest of his father's jester, with a reward for him Dead..or Deader.
The jester heard of the new king's decree. It was not, you can well guess, that the concept of being dead had the slightest appeal to him, not in the least. He left word for his family to flee the kingdom, even though he knew it meant never seeing them again even if he did escape. The jester began to run through the gloaming of night's approach, hoping to make a decent start before the full moon came out. He crossed one field and then another. Behind him he could hear the king's guards approaching. Luckily for him, they had drunk up most of the reward they hoped to get for killing the jester and were now running erratically and with occasional stops to fight each other over who should be victorious.
Sadly though, the Jester had gone through months of deprivation and was not as strong as he had been when he had first entered the kingdom. His breath had gone ragged and he had begun to slow down. It was, perhaps, just a matter of time before he was captured, chained, and corpsified.
The full moon rose and the guards saw the Jester ahead of them. They set aside their squabbling for the immediate future and set chase after him.
They say there are other things, other beings who see the world only through the pale light of the full moon. They saw the Jester and the guards. Were they being capricious or had one or two of them felt the laughter the jester had brought to the lands and remembered the sounds of revels when they had been closer to the land. A wind began to blow across the fields, although the trees remained silent and still. The guards slowed and began to feel uneasy.
The Raven's long hair flowed in the deep mixed light and became beautiful , new-moon coloured feathers. His long, sinewy arms became magnificent wings.”
There was a wistfulness about Raven as he finished the story. “And that, dear Falcon, was the introduction of Raven to the world. His wings flowed across the moon. His silhouette filled the night and the moon, alone but with a beating of total freedom.”
Prompt: Introduction
WC:1212
Warning:deicide
Enter the Raven
It was a sunny day. Well somewhere or some when it was, and they were bound to find it. Hopefully, thought Falcon, without being involved in some of the gambits that Raven seemed to be drawn into on a regular basis. At least they found a hot, cloudless afternoon in Arizona. This was Coyote land, of course, but Raven and Coyote had actually been rather civil to each other of late. Falcon knew that it was bound to change at some point but she was going to enjoy the sun and the peace and quiet while she could.
Falcon had been caught up in an idle thought. She turned to Raven and asked “How exactly did you get to become Raven anyway? Were you born this way, or were we cursed with your presence later in life?” She smiled and kissed him lightly after that last question. She had learned that Raven could take a great deal of kidding, but sometimes he was a bit prickly.
“So you would like to know about young Raven,eh? He wrapped his arms around her, only the shadows against the rock showing their feathers. “Then let me tell you about the Introduction of Raven to the world.”
“Once or twice or so, just beyond the furthest field, lived a vainglorious but ugly ruler. Because he was a vain despot, he expected to be pandered and obeyed instantly because people wanted to. Being as ugly outside as he was inside, people tended not to do much pampering, which led to the ruler being very short tempered. So short tempered, that one of the things he eventually did was to outlaw anyone's laughter but his own.
For his own distraction, the ruler had taken advantage of his position and wealth by hiring his own jester. The jester was handsome, intelligent and strong. All of the things, in short, that the ruler was not. Every night it seemed the evil king would berate and harass him. Enough of this would make the evil degenerate feel better. Eventually the King would smile; a mirthless, rotten food sort of smile. For even the King could not stand the raw cacophony of his own laughter. And on the nights that he did laugh the jester knew there were extra beatings in store, as well as no food.
Finally the jester decided that he could stand no more of the beatings, verbal or physical. If his family had not had debts, he would never have taken this position. But mostly he missed the honest sound of laughter.
The jester went down into the village below the castle, among the children and the drunkards. He did pratfalls juggled, told jokes and played tricks. At first there was a stunned silence and the people of the town stared at him in disbelief. Then a small girl in dirty rags that might have once been a dress began to chuckle. After a few minutes she was joined by a staggering old drunk who had come over from the building he had been supporting by leaning against it.
Soon there was an echo from building to building like surf or Spring rain. It rapidly spread throughout the poor quarters of the town and began to make its way up the hill. Laughter, like sneezing or yawning, can be highly contagious. Eventually the entire town was reverberating with the sound of chuckling, tittering and giggling. Sometimes, from block to block, there was an even an occasional guffaw.
It was just a matter of time before the sound of joy and laughter resonating from the village to the grim, stone walls of the castle. And from there to the ears of the king. At first he was just irritated, for it had been so long since he had heard the songs that he had forgotten what they were. Then, as he began to remember, he grew angry. His anger grew and grew until finally he actually became apoplectic in his rage. He clutched his heart and fell over dead as he reached for his throne.
His oldest son and heir came quickly when he heard the news. His first order as the new king was to have the body of his father disinterred and thrown on the dung heap outside the royal stables. You would think that anyone who had grown up in the shadow of the evil king would remember what such pain and suffering were like and act in kind and kindness. But it soon became apparent that the new king had learned the wrong lessons altogether. People soon learned to their dismay that he was even more evil as well as being almost as ugly. Even more dangerously, he was much smarter in a devious way then his late, unlamented father. The son knew that what had happened once could happen again. He was afraid that under his rule, happiness could in time lead to revolution. He sent out an edict for the arrest of his father's jester, with a reward for him Dead..or Deader.
The jester heard of the new king's decree. It was not, you can well guess, that the concept of being dead had the slightest appeal to him, not in the least. He left word for his family to flee the kingdom, even though he knew it meant never seeing them again even if he did escape. The jester began to run through the gloaming of night's approach, hoping to make a decent start before the full moon came out. He crossed one field and then another. Behind him he could hear the king's guards approaching. Luckily for him, they had drunk up most of the reward they hoped to get for killing the jester and were now running erratically and with occasional stops to fight each other over who should be victorious.
Sadly though, the Jester had gone through months of deprivation and was not as strong as he had been when he had first entered the kingdom. His breath had gone ragged and he had begun to slow down. It was, perhaps, just a matter of time before he was captured, chained, and corpsified.
The full moon rose and the guards saw the Jester ahead of them. They set aside their squabbling for the immediate future and set chase after him.
They say there are other things, other beings who see the world only through the pale light of the full moon. They saw the Jester and the guards. Were they being capricious or had one or two of them felt the laughter the jester had brought to the lands and remembered the sounds of revels when they had been closer to the land. A wind began to blow across the fields, although the trees remained silent and still. The guards slowed and began to feel uneasy.
The Raven's long hair flowed in the deep mixed light and became beautiful , new-moon coloured feathers. His long, sinewy arms became magnificent wings.”
There was a wistfulness about Raven as he finished the story. “And that, dear Falcon, was the introduction of Raven to the world. His wings flowed across the moon. His silhouette filled the night and the moon, alone but with a beating of total freedom.”
