#RaceTheDate : Life In The Water, On The Water, Or Underwater

“It is time I remembered who I am.”

That’s all the note said. Oceana placed it on the pillow of her bed within the castle at the bottom of the Eastern Sea. She longed to hug her son once more. To walk through the flowers in the castle gardens once more. She knew she could not.

It was time for her to step aside, and let her son, Sword, rule. It was time for her to heal the wounds in her heart and find the missing pieces of her soul.

Sword would know. He would understand. She’d left him a message only he could read, in the drawings scattered about the note.

Oceana left the castle through the window of her room. Her wings silently propelled her from her home of centuries, into the freedom of the sea. She needed to remember. To experience. All of the life of the sea. The life in the water, on the water, or under the water. It had been so long she’d forgotten.

As she flew through the ocean currents, she closed her eyes, and tried to feel the oceans touch. Centuries before, she felt every movement of the water past her body, between her fingers, across the soles of her feet.

All she felt was empty.

She wanted to cry for the lost pieces of her soul, and the scars life had made in her heart. But no tears flowed.

She let her wings take her where they wished, soaring past schools of fish and gardens of coral. They too her from the kingdom she’d ruled for too long, into the wilderness at the bottom of the sea. Where she could remember how to feel. Where she would remember who she was. Where she would once more become one with the sea.

300 Words
@LurchMunster


A little story I couldn’t resist writing for Cara Michaels‘s Race The Date flash fiction challenge. Hope you enjoy it. Please, go read the other entries in the challenge this week. I find it amazing the stories people can create in 300 words or less.

#12DaysBop : Day 8 – It’s Only Water. Nothing More.

It’s day 8 of Stacy Hoyt’s 12 Days Of Christmas Blog Hop. Today, the prompt is seas…


They say the ocean doesn’t care for anyone, anywhere. Like the land, the sky, the rocks, it simply is. That without the animals and plants living in its depths, the ocean is just water. Cold. Unfeeling. And uncaring. Only water. Nothing more.

They say people see what they want to see. They have given the ocean a personality. A name. And a behavior. Calling it the harsh mistress of the sea. A dangerous place that’s taken countless lives. A graveyard for ships through the centuries.

But I know when I walk upon the sand, down by the water’s edge, it hears every whisper, every voice. It hears laughter and tears both. It knows, and it hears. How else would it know when to make a wish come true?

Like when its waves form fractured mirrors, reflecting the sunlight, like the sun was striking diamonds floating on the surface of the sea. Or when it rests just calm enough so you can see the dolphins as they swim along the beach. Like when the crashing of the waves upon the shore can soothe the aching of your heart, and calm your fears, so you can sleep at night.

Like now. As I stand here. By the water’s edge, as the sun slowly inches into sight far to the East. Its light melting away the blackness of the night, and bring back to life, the colors of the world. As if it’s reminding me there’s always hope. Dawn always comes. And life moves on.

I think I’ll stand here for a time. And reach out with my heart. And let the power of the ocean heal the wounds deep in my soul.


Please go enjoy the rest of the stories in the blog hop. There are some really gifted writers out there. It’s well worth reading their work. You can find the other entries here:

The 12 Days Of Christmas Blog Hop, Day 8 – The Gift Of Seas

Fairies : Sword (Part 4)

As they approached the ocean, the village where Sword had been abused came into view. And that village was destroyed. Along with everyone in it. Mystica used her white magic. She floated up from the dragon she was on. Taking to the sky. She flew low to the ground, approaching the remains of the village.Scream and the other two dragons stayed high in the sky. Keeping the little fairies safe. Mystica landed in what had once been the center of the village. She looked around. There were bodies, half buried in the sand. There was debris everywhere. Sand was piled up against the homes that were still there. Many of the homes were gone. Mystica had never seen such a thing. A white aura encased her. And she spoke. “Show me what happened here.”

The sand around Mystica went flat. Flatter than a table top. Leaving her standing in a circle about 30 feet across. Figures grew up from the sand, playing out a movie. Forming a mini copy of the village, and the people in it. Going about their normal lives. Until a tall, slim fairy came into the village. She carried a trident. And wore a crown. She was stunning to behold.

This fairy floated, her wings easily carrying her a couple of feet off the ground. Moving slowly through the village, to its center. All the humans of the village dropped what they were doing. They ran to their homes, grabbing anything they could use as a weapon. Knives, swords, bows, arrows, even sticks. The fairy reached the center of the village, and turned toward the sea. The villagers attacked. They threw rocks, and shot arrows. None of them reached the fairy. She held her staff before her, and the air grew thick. Almost like a wall. Everything that reached that wall came to a stop. Bouncing backwards. Falling to the ground.

The fairy spoke, “Where is my son?” It was a demand more than a question. “Where is Sword?”

The man that had spoken when Sword was whipped came out. He stood at the edge of the village, and addressed the fairy. “He was rescued by a dragon, and a witch.” The men with whips had come out, behind the fairy. They raised their whips, and struck. As they struck, the fairy had turned, she reached out with her hands, and literally caught the whips out of the air. It was something that had to have hurt. But if it had, the pain never showed once in the fairy’s face. In the way she moved.

She yanked both whips. Ripping them from the grips of the men that yielded them. The handles of the whips floated through the air, and she caught both of them. Then used them to strike at the men that had yielded them.

“The gulls and terns. They told me everything. Told me what you did. How you whipped my son. And left him here. On the sand. To die.” As she spoke, the whips struck at the men, leaving nasty streaks of torn flesh on them. Leaving them howling in pain. “I should make you suffer the same way he did.”

She dropped the whips to the ground. “But I won’t. Instead, I’ll do what I should have done years ago, when you invaded my land.” She turned to the man that had spoken, “I tried to let you live here. To learn to live in peace with you.” The man grabbed a sword from a nearby person. He turned to face the fairy. And holding the sword out, he ran straight at her, screaming.

The fairy simply floated up, out of his reach. And she continued speaking. “But peace you would not have. Unable to accept the diversity of life. You believe you have to dominate it. Rule it. Destroy it.”

She turned to face the sea. “So now I do what I should have done years ago. I show you who I am.”

The sound of the ocean grew louder. And louder. The people of the village began to panic. Running in all directions. And an enormous wall of water swept through the village. The water was at least 20 feet tall. It swept away everything and everyone in its path. Destroying houses. Destroying the village. And everyone in it.

The fairy watched. Then she floated up into the sky, and spoke one last time. “Take care of my son, White Witch. And when it is time, please bring him home to me. So speaks Oceana. Princess of the sea.”

Mystica watched it all play out upon the sand. When the images reached their end, she knew what she had to do. The white magic shined around her, and she walked out of the village, toward the sea. Scream, and the other dragons landed, as Mystica walked right up to the edge of the water. Where she spoke. “I am Mystica. Your son is safe. He is healed. I have brought him here. He’s ready to come home.”

Her voice had echoed across the ocean. Silently, quietly, calmly. Yet the white magic carried it for miles. Both above and below the ocean.

Sword walked up next to Mystica. “Mother is coming,” he spoke.

The little fairies that were Mystica’s family came slowly forward. Forming a small group behind their adopted mother.  Scream and the other two dragons took positions to each side of the group. With Scream taking to the sky, holding a position above Mystica. Sword realized the dragons were acting to protect their friends. He’d never known dragons to be friends with fairies before. This Mystica was different. She was unique.

Sword remembered his mother speaking of a new fairy. A white magic fairy. More powerful than any of the dragons were. More powerful than even she was. A white mage. That would change the world with time. Sword looked at Mystica. He wondered. Could she be the fairy his mother had spoken of?

That’s when the fairy, Oceana, appeared. She rose up out of the ocean. The ocean holding her up.  She didn’t walk. The ocean itself carried her. Bringing her right to the shore. Right to Mystica.

Mystica had smiled. And then looked at Sword. “Your mother, Sword. It’s time for you to return home.”

Sword walked into the water, which carried him to his mother. To Oceana herself. Oceana smiled. She hugged her son. Then she spoke to the ocean, and it’s inhabitants. “Sword has been found. He is returned. Show him the way home.” And the water moved, forming a smooth pathway that Sword could walk along. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he looked at his mother. “First, there is something I have to do.”

Sword walked back to Mystica. He bowed to her. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” And Mystica smiled.

“I couldn’t not stand by and watch. I had to help. No one should be treated the way those people treated you.”

Next, Sword walked to the group of fairy girls. He gave each of them a hug. One at a time. He reached Dream, and Rose last. He hugged Dream. “Thank you, for helping me.” Dream blushed. “I can remember a beautiful dream of the sea. Of my home.” He held both her hands. “You gave that to me, didn’t you?”

Dream could only smile, and blush. And nod her head. Sword hugged her a second time.

Then, he took both of Rose’s hands. He raised her right hand up, and gently kissed it. “Thank you, Rose. For the roses you shared with me.” Then he hugged her, holding her for a time.

He walked back to his mother. And smiled. “These are now part of my family, Mother.”

Oceana smiled. “I know, my son. I know. I can see how you feel about each of them. It is written in your heart.” Oceana spoke to Mystica. “You are all welcome to visit us for a few days. While I can’t help you live beneath the sea, I can guarantee that you will be safe here, on this sand. In this place. You may stay here for a long as you wish. And Sword may visit you. And so will the creatures of the sea.”

And so it was that Oceana and Mystica first met. By the sea. On the sand. By the water’s edge. And formed a bond of friendship that would so long as both lived.

Fairies : Sword (Part 2)

Mystica looked across the clearing, by the edge of the lake. The boy was standing there. Looking at his reflection in the water. It had been nearly two weeks since Mystica and Scream had rescued him from the village by the sea. Where he had been whipped nearly to death. His body was fully healed. Mystica had seen to that, using her White Magic to heal his physical wounds.

Her White Magic could not, however, heal the wounds within his heart and soul. The only things that could heal those were time, and the boy himself.

The boy had no name. At least, not yet, anyway. He’d refused to say his name at any time. When Rose and Fauna had asked him his name, he’d told them he didn’t have a name.

Musica was doing the best she could. Writing new songs, and new music for him every day. Always singing, and playing where he could hear her. And Mystica could tell that the music was something he needed. She’d even seen him look into the water of the lake while Musica played. And she’d see the tears he’d cried.

Dream watched Mystica. She could tell that Mystica was very much concerned for the boy. So, Dream spoke with Sunshine that day. She pulled Sunshine into the edge of the woods. “Our boy is very hurt, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Dream. He is.” Sunshine looked sad. Which explained the grey color of the sky, and the clouds on that day. “I wish there was something we could do to help him. To show him we’re his friends. And that he’s not alone again. And that we’ll never hurt him.”

Dream smiled. “I know! I have an idea!” She put a hand on Sunshine’s shoulder. “Why don’t you smile for a while. I’ll have to give you a reason to. I know. You are you. And you can’t turn your smile on and off.”

“You like him, don’t you, Dream?”

“What?”

Sunshine smiled. “You like our boy.” Dream blushed. Her cheeks turned bright pink. And she could feel the heat in her shoulders. Sunshine just smiled even more. “You like our boy.” Then she said to Dream, “That makes me happy. That makes me smile.”

Dream smiled to. And the heat in her shoulders started to fade away. As did the pink in her cheeks. “Yes. I like him. He’s cute.”

Sunshine said, “I’ll smile more now. I like thinking how you like him.” Then she looked at Dream, “I like him too, you know. But he’s so sad. So hurt.”

Dream could see Sunshine’s smile start to fade. So she decided to tell Sunshine the rest of her plan. “I’m going to speak with Momma. I’m going to ask Momma if I can walk in our boy’s dreams. And see if there’s something there that he’s afraid of. Something there that’s hurting him.”

At that, Sunshine’s smile grew strong once more. And it remained strong through the rest of the day.

Mystica walked up to the boy. Standing by the lake. She reached out a hand, and touched his shoulder. He didn’t stop her. “There’s something I wish to show you,” she said. He didn’t move. He just stood there. Looking into the water of the lake. So, Mystica continued on. She looked at the water of the lake, and she spoke to it, calling the White Magic. “Show me the ocean.”

The mirror like surface of the lake shifted, white shapes taking form on it. Until the image of a strip of sand appeared. Next to that enormous body of water. That body of water that had such huge waves near the shore. Mystica knew it as the ocean. She knew it was surf. But she’d never seen it in her life. Until she’d gone to the village by the ocean, and rescued the boy.

She left the image of the ocean’s shore on the lake. Her hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. While he watched. “Your home is there, isn’t it?” The boy said nothing. But Mystica couldn’t help but see the longing look in his eyes. “By the ocean. That’s where your home is, isn’t it?”

The boy spoke. For the first time in days. “No.” Mystica was surprised. “Not by.” The boy turned and looked at Mystica. “In.”

“In?” Mystica was somewhat surprised. She’d never known anyone to live in the sea. “You live in the sea?”

The boy had looked at Mystica. Right into her eyes. “Yes.”

Before Mystica could respond, the boy had spread his wings, and taken flight over the lake. Just above the surface of the water. He flew rapidly to the center of the lake. And then, he dove. Straight down.

Mystica followed him. She called on the White Magic to encase her. And protect her. And it did. Keeping her safe, as she dove beneath the surface of the lake. And followed the boy, all the way to the bottom of the lake. Maybe 15 or 20 feet deep.

It was there that she saw the boy, walking along the bottom. Perfectly at ease underneath the water. Perfectly at home. He walked there. Looking at the rocks. At the mud. And the solid ground. Looking at the fish that swam. As if it was all something he’d done all his life.

Then, the boy stopped, and looked at Mystica. And he spoke. Underwater. “I belong in the sea. I want to go home.”

Mystica couldn’t speak under the water. The boy seemed to know that. So, he pushed off the bottom, and returned to the surface of the lake. Stretching his wings out, and taking flight once more. Mystica following. They both returned to the clearing. By the edge of the lake. “I want to go home,” the boy repeated.

Mystica finished his sentence for him. “To the sea.”

“Yes.”

Mystica thought for a moment. Then looked around the clearing, at her adopted daughters. Musica, Dream, Rose, Sunshine and Fauna. And she smiled. “I somehow think my daughters would like to see the ocean.”

She turned to the boy, and said. “We’ll start the trip in the morning.” Then she smiled at him, “And thank you, for letting me know where you come from.”

Later that day, just before the sun set, Dream called for Mystica, “Momma! Momma! I would like to talk with you!” Mystica had used her wings, and slowly flown across the lake. It was hard for her to fly. She’d injured that wing in her battle with the wolves years ago. And it had never healed quite right. She could still fly. But only slowly. And only with a lot of effort. And only for short distances.

She landed, softly, on the grass next to Dream. “Momma. I have to ask you something. But it’s a secret.” So, Mystica had crouched down, on her knees, so Dream could whisper in her ear. “I want to visit the boy’s dreams. I want to see what kind of dreams he has. So I can try to help him.”

Mystica was surprised, to say the least. Dream was certainly growing up quickly. And sometimes, Mystica was afraid that Dream’s curiosity would get the better of her. So, she closed her eyes, and asked the White Magic for guidance. And the White Magic showed her nothing. All she heard was a single thought. “Follow your heart.”

Mystica’s heart told her to let Dream try. Told her how much she loved Dream. As if Dream were a true daughter. Told her that Dream would be OK. And that Dream was going to try anyway. Even if Mystica told her not to.

“Yes, Dream. You can try. But please know that I’ll always be where you can find me, if you should need me.”

When the sun set that night, the boy settled in for one last night on the ground. He always slept by the edge of the lake. On the grass. Where he could hear the sounds of the water of the rivers that flowed into and out of the lake.

That night, Dream waited until the boy was asleep. And then she walked across the grass. Settling on the ground next to him. And she reached out a hand for the first time in her life. And put it on the boys cheek. And said one single word. “Dream.”

Dream was walking along the bottom of the ocean. There were all kinds of strange fish, and plants that she’d never seen. But the boy knew them all. And as she watched him in his dream, she heard him cry, “Mother! Mother! Where are you! Help me! Please help me!”

She watched him as he closed his eyes in his dreams that night. And dreamed of his mother. Slowly, as Dream watched, a figure started to take shape. A full grown fairy. And not just any fairy. This fairy had a crown upon her head. And a trident that she carried. She had a regal air. And Dream could tell that she ruled the ocean. That the fish, the plants, and all the creatures of the sea, recognized her. And knew her. As their queen.

The boy’s dreams continued on. And she saw him swimming. She was swimming right along with him. She never saw the net. Neither did he. He ran head first into it. And got tangled up. The net twisted around him. Trapping his arms. His legs. His wings.

And the net got pulled up. Up, and out of the water. As it did, the boy was exposed to the sky. She knew he’d never seen the sky. The sun. The clouds. The boy was absolutely terrified. Frozen by fear.

The net dropped, landing on the deck of a boat. With a hard thud. Dream felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Something started to untangle the net. And Dream realized it was humans. Several of them. And when they saw the boy, the leaped on him. Pinning him down. Trapping him on the boat.

That’s when the boy had called on fairy magic. Fairy magic his mother had taught him. He’d flexed his wrist. Like he was holding a short sword. And that invisible sword of fairy magic had sliced into the arms of one of the humans. Drawing blood. As if a real sword had been drawn.

The other humans had backed away. The boy standing in the midst of them. Swinging his arms. Running at his captors. Trying to get to the water once again. It only took a few seconds for one of the humans to get behind him. And hit him over the head with a wooden pole. And then, the boy collapsed. Unconscious. On the deck of the boat.

Only to wake up in a prison cell. His arms bound by chains. His feet chained to the floor. Two men guarding him. Each with a bow and arrows. He knew there was nothing he could do. That they were out of his reach. That they could shoot him with the arrows.

He knew he was doomed.

Dream knew the rest of the story. The circle in the village. The whips. The pain. The hurt. Being left to slowly die on the sand. The arrival of Scream. Then the arrival of Mystica.

Dream quietly pulled her hand away from the boy’s cheek. She stood up. And walked away. Quietly. Mystica was waiting outside Dream’s little home in the trees. “Good. You are OK.”

All that Dream would do was say, “I know his name.”

She looked at Mystica. “I know his name. His name is Sword.”

Mystica had held dream for a while. Dream had been through a lot that night. The first night she’d ever walked within another’s dreams. And it had been a big test of her self. Her confidence. Her control. She’d told Mystica everything. Everything she’d seen in Sword’s dreams. And she’d cried herself to sleep that night.

Like the 6 year old girl that she really was.