Children's Tales

The everyday life of the inhabitants of the Grey Tower. This board is for general daily roleplay around the Tower, in the corridors, rooms and halls that make up most of the building.
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Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
PC: Jaryd Kosari
SC: Dakson Torellion
TC: Finn
QC: Owen Andarin

Children's Tales

Post by Sunny » September 2nd, 2017, 9:27 pm

Dakson Torellion
“Once upon a time in the great kingdom of Essenia, a king and queen lived by the sea.” Dax paused and looked up from the book on his lap. A soft wool blanket lay on the ground before him, and lying atop that were two infants far too young to understand the words he read to them. Thea had her eyes on her father and her fingers wrapped around her brother’s hand. Tomas was oblivious to the restriction; he stared up at the branches above, fascinated by the movement of light and leaves.

The Tairen glanced back down at the book, suppressing a pang as he took in the elaborate illustration that ran up the left hand page, then began to read again. “The king and queen were be-benevolent rulers and their country flourished in their reign. Unbeknownst to them, the neighboring king envied their good fortune…” He read slowly, one callused finger keeping his eyes focused on his place in the text. Occasionally he had to stop to sound out a word or tend to the children.

In one such pause, a voice interrupted the quiet. “Katrie gave that to you, didn’t she?”

The Tairen slapped the book shut and twisted to face the speaker. Jaryd Kosari had paused at the edge of the clearing; now he nodded casual greeting. “May I?” The Asha’man didn’t wait for acceptance. He simply strolled forward until he could crouch next to the twins.

From somewhere in his various red clothing he produced a loop of brightly-colored cord. “The book, Dax. Did Katrie give it to you?” As he spoke, he laced the string between his fingers and began to pull and twist at it in a way that created an ever-changing pattern of loops and lines for the children to look at.

Dax muttered a curse. He tried to push the bloody thing away, and instead found himself running his fingers over the embellished cover. “Yes,” he said shortly. “A week before she cut my bond and disappeared, so I’d really rather not discuss the details.” Corinthea made a cooing sound as she reached for the Red’s game of cat’s cradle. Somehow, looking at her, his loss did not seem so terrible.

“She is safe,” Jaryd said without looking up from his game. “I don’t know why she left, Dax; we may never know. But I do know she is safe.”

“The earth could split asunder and swallow her alive and I would not bloody care,” the Gaidin growled. “Our baby-”

“-Is also safe.” Jaryd turned to sit on his bottom next to Tomas, facing Dax. “I give you my word: he is safe and will remain so.” Somehow it didn’t surprise the Tairen that his companion knew Katrie had been pregnant. It felt like the Red knew every other thing of consequence in Dax’s life, so why not that? He looked down at the book, searching for words. Jaryd got there first.

“Why did Katrie give you a book of children’s stories?”

“Perhaps she thought me a child,” he snapped. The Red lifted an admonishing eyebrow and Dax flushed. “If she stayed it would have made more sense,” he admitted, his words slow and carefully chosen. “She knew I wanted to read better, and we had a child on the way.” A child he would likely never meet….but Jaryd said he was safe. Him. It had been a boy. Light help me.

The Red nodded. “Perhaps it was that. However, in my experience there is more to such tales than meets the eye,” he said, “some grain of truth that helps the common folk who read them find hope. Perhaps there was more to her gift than you think.”

The Tairen snorted. “If she wanted me to know something, she would have just told me,” he said. “These stories are from Tear, the sort my mother told me before she passed. Silly stories about kings and queens who want children, and toads that burp gold for the benefit of spoiled girls. It was a gift, Asha’man. Nothing more.” Even he could tell he sounded defensive, but it was too late to take the words back now.

“If you say so.” The Altaran gave him one of those enigmatic smiles the Gaidin knew from experience meant ”And if you do say so, you’re an idiot.” “Keep reading, Dax.” And as quietly as he had arrived, Jaryd slipped the string in his pocket and ghosted away.

Dax stared after him in silence until Thea made a gurgling sound. Then he went back to reading. “...The wise woman, perceiving the queen’s distress, led her deep in the lower levels of their castle where none had been before. There at long last they found a red doorframe standing alone in a store room. ‘Go through and ask your questions of the creatures there,’ the wise woman told her, ‘I ask only your dagger in payment…’”
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
PC: Jaryd Kosari
SC: Dakson Torellion
TC: Finn
QC: Owen Andarin

Re: Children's Tales

Post by Sunny » September 3rd, 2017, 5:59 am

The Allegory of the Snake
The Gaidin stared down at the book of tales that Katrie had given him, his fingers once again tracing over the odd red frame that a talented artist had drawn in one corner. It twisted oddly on the paper; when he tried to follow the lines they led in impossible directions. It only made sense if he covered half the frame with his hand. On the opposite page the artist had drawn a depiction of a raven-haired woman in a billowing gown speaking to a serpent.

The author wove a child-friendly tale about Queen Corinne and her husband King Turon, noble-hearted rulers of Essenia who were desperate for a way to avoid war with their neighbor. Turon journeyed far and wide consulting with other world leaders for a peaceful solution, while Corinne tended to the pressing affairs of the kingdom. Eventually she consulted with a wise woman who took her through a red door to speak to snakes. It was a pretty tale that had just the right amount of romance, drama, and tragedy; no wonder it appeared in nearly every book of stories he could find in the Library.

Nearly every one.

His gaze strayed to the slender book that lay just to the side of his own. That one had the same basic structure, but there the resemblance stopped. In that version, Miselle sur Paendrag Mashera became the First of Mayene after her father’s death, and found herself faced with overwhelming aggression from Tear. She schemed and plotted with the aid of her husband, consulted with Aes Sedai, won her people over with fair and just rule...and despite her best efforts could not best Tear. And then, according to the text, the First vanished for roughly a week. When she came back, she took decisive action that removed the Tairen threat for good, acting on instincts that ‘surpassed human intelligence’.

No mention of snakes in that version, and yet...it was whispered among the common folk of Tear that snakes granted the First of Mayene three wishes on the eve of their rule. How and why they received such a gift varied from telling to telling, but the serpents remained….a curious link to the gleeman’s version of events.

Stories, Dax told himself for the five hundredth time as he pushed the book away. They’re just stories. Perhaps some Bard had changed the time frame to be less immediate, and the Aes Sedai adviser into serpents, in order to avoid being looked at too closely by the High Lords of Tear or the White Tower. Such things could happen...and made more rational sense than queens visiting snakes in their basement.

The bell rang faintly high about, and the Tairen shook his head. Who would ever believe that I stayed up past Low reading nursery stories? He stacked the books he had been looking at back on the cart marked for returns, then tucked his own book beneath his arm. Then he made his way back to the chambers he shared with Elia, lost in thought. Why did it matter to him whether the First of Mayene could ask wishes of vipers?

He wasted no time in shedding his clothes and sliding into bed. As he gathered his sleeping lover’s body against his own and buried his nose in copper hair, he realized he had nothing to ask of such creatures anyway.
Image Image Image Image
False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

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