CHAPTER ONE
Fable's Life
Briareos' Past
Curse of the Black Widow
The Seven Districts
The Guado was once an elite race, said to be the sons and daughters of the Ice Goddess Shiva and the Sun God Ra. A race first hidden underground, not know to all the world of Spira. Not until the rise of Summoners, not until the death of the Lifestream and the making of the Farplane did the Guado show themselves to the world, showing them the Farplane, the contained and safeguarded Lifestream. They created the place of dreams, memories, and nightmares. They created Guadosalam, the guardian of the Farplane.
The Guado were, in fact, daughters and sons of those people who had breeded in the Lifestream, the Guado were spirits and memories made flesh. They were mix of life and death. They were chosen ones, the ones who were to protect the Lifestream and the Farplane. They were puppets. But they loved their underground city, living peacefully with humans, letting them pass in their domain, letting them see their departed loved ones. They let the Summoners pass, gave them room and board, let them take items needed to survive.
The Guado were such peaceful, native, and naïve people. People who could easily fall under manipulation if a man was persuasive and charming enough. No one was honestly power-crazed enough to have the dreams made flesh manipulated, the earth would turn on itself and permanently stop the fighting like it did so many years ago. The Guado were loving, tender, caring race of humanity. Who would want to corrupt their delicate life?
The answer was in one man desperate to be loved, to be wanted, to be cared for. His name was Seymour.
Seymour was a half-Guado, half-Human. His mother was a human Gypsy woman with long opal-black hair and cerulean blue eyes. She was passing past Guadosalam when she met Seymour's father. It was love at first sight. Soon after they met, the couple eagerly eloped and came back. Scandal of their marriage roared through Guadosalam, at first the couple was shunned and laughed at. But after the sea-green haired husband became maester, the Guado began to love the strange couple and soon the black haired wife began pregnant. And soon out of her womb came a turquoise haired boy with blue eyes and one human and one Guado hand, a boy named Seymour.
The couple desperately loved Seymour and showered him in love and affection. But it never worked; Seymour was hated and despised by the younger boys and girls of the small school. The boy was wasting away, slowly dieing, becoming a shell of deadness, and hopelessness. In desperation of love the mother went to the Baaj temple to sacrifice herself to become the Fayth of an aeon. She showed Seymour the words of summoning and committed suicide a week after her sacrifice.
As soon as Seymour first summoned his aeon, which he named Anima, he became power-crazed. In his insanity he began to play in the craft of Black Magic. When he was fourteen he was a graduate with the eighteen and twenty year-olds. By twenty-two he had murdered his father in cold-blood and became the maester in his loving father's place. He needed a wife to reach his goal; his eyes fell upon the daughter of High Summoner Braska, the Lady Summoner Yuna, fresh in her life of womanhood and pilgrimage.
Along with the Lady Summoner Yuna, was Guardian Auron, who first guarded Braska, Guardian Wakka, Guardian Lulu, Guardian Rikku and the cheerful and mysterious Guardian Tidus. Seymour believed that the Lady Summoner Yuna was easy to manipulate, but the Guardian Tidus stood in Seymour's way, Yuna was falling in love with Tidus. So Seymour did the only thing he could, he asked Yuna to marry him. Yuna was shocked, and asked for time and time was given.
Soon they arrived at the Ice Temple and Seymour's true self was shown. He was an insane man and he later kidnapped Yuna. He forced Yuna to marry him, but Yuna was able to escape Seymour and they soon reached Zanarkand. They fought Yunalesca once they found the truth about Sin. They fought Sin with passion and entered its dead, empty shell. They went to Sin's very core and had to fight the last Guardian who preformed the ultimate sacrifice – a guardian who was Sir Tidus' own father, who he loved as much as he hated – Jecht. In sadness and grief Tidus killed his father and admitted that he loved him – and hated him. And soon Tidus himself had to leave his only love – Yuna – for he was a dream.
Yuna didn't see him for two years. Two years empty of love. Then Yuna got wind of him. Tidus didn't, in fact, disappear, but was capture by Bevellian soldiers and placed in a top-security prison cell in the bowls of Bevelle. Yuna went to the Guado for help. The Guado, too, suffered loss of their home, and they gave her aid and freed her love from the pits of Hell itself.
In thanks, Yuna and Tidus drove the humans out of Guadosalam, and reunited the Guado with their home. Yuna and Tidus stayed with Guado and became the Warlord Prince and Queen of Guadosalam. They first made a shield to protect the Guado from the world that hated them so much and lived peacefully.
And on his deathbed, Tidus made a prophesy, that a child would come on the most holiest of days, glowing the sacred twilight color of the Farplane, and would bring peace over the world. She would be fair and wise, loving and strong, the Queen of the Harpies. He died and a war started, the Guado were safe, protected by the shield. The war stopped and Summoner's Day came. She was glowing a twilight-blue, sleeping in the Farplane Glen. But another child was born from the womb with twilight-blue eyes; she was believed to be the child and was reviled as the chosen one.
And the child that was in the Farplane Glen was given to the Warlord Prince and Queen, and was ignored. They didn't want to name the child, but she was already named, and her name was Fable. No one knew who or what Fable was, only that she was a freak. Abused by her surrogate parents and ignored by the Guado she became bitter, spiteful, unloving and remorseless. She only at first hated her parents, but soon she began to hate everyone and everything.
Fable's Life
I suppose my life was never one of opulence or love. My life was a living hell. My life was unkind, malicious and abusive. Though I was the non-biological of the many-times great granddaughter of the Lady Summoner Yuna and Sir Tidus. I was treated with scorn, hate, anger, bitterness, and poison. I wasn't sure if I was a true Guado or the much-hated humans. I was neither, or so people told me, I wasn't even a half-breed. No one knew who or what I was, only that my name was Fable. The mother and father I knew and hated weren't my biological blood parents. And what was I called outside the hearing of adult ears? A bastard. The children laughed at me, scorned me. Many days I remembered going home bleeding, broken, but never crying. I wound never given them that satisfaction. I knew that if I wanted to survive I had to become cold, and cruel. And I did so; no one could pass my inner iron-enforced shield of solitude. I became an icy-beauty.
I was what most people would call a flawed perfection. Not because of my unknown birth, but my bizarre appearance.
I had snowy-white hair with naturally streaks of stormy-gray and inky-black hair strands and clumps. I had a sharp, beautiful widow's peak and my hair sloped evenly on each side and gently curved behind my ears. And my eyes were strange, alien, but gorgeous, beautiful eyes. I suppose my eyes were a bit too large for my face, but it enhanced my beauty, and they were colored a dark stormy-sea gray almost to the point of being black, but sometimes they flashed silver and gold in the sunlight and lamplight of Guadosalam. My skin was a dusted a golden-bronze that held a sheen of gold luster. My build was wiry, and thin, tall for my age, and for one of the female gender I was well endowed. My ears were a bit bizarre, for they were pointed like the ancient race of Elves and the Harpies. My voice was strange; too, most described it as 'whisperings of winds over the forest of Eden'.
I was the imperfect perfection, something of mystery, wonder and scorn.
My parents weren't too kind about my looks. Yes, they took me in, raised my, but only because they believed I was the child of the prophecy. But how could a white-haired child found on Summoner's Day glowing the twilight blue could be the chosen one? No a Guado child born on the Summoner's Day was the chosen one. Yes, I was found on Summoner's Day. Yes, I was glowing twilight blue. But, no, a child born from the womb that was born on Summoner's Day and had twilight blue eyes was the chosen one. And my parents abused me and the rest of the world ignored me. I was able to hide my bruises easily, but only one person truly cared about me and her name was Wednesday.
Wednesday was much older than me, in her early twenties when she found me. I was five and bleeding on the side of a cobblestone pathway. Wednesday was as dark as I was light. She had dark, beautiful, onyx black hair and lustrous, stunning midnight blackish-blue eyes. Her skin was moonlight pale. She cradled me against her black velvet cloak and healed me. Then it hit me, she was a full-licensed Witch. She snuggled me, cuddled me and took me home. My parents yelled at me, wondering who that the woman with me was. I introduced them, and Wednesday told them that she was going to press charges, and she carried me to her home at the Witch's Convent where she worked as a history professor.
Three weeks later I found myself at court with my parents, the Warlord Prince and Queen. Wednesday took me there, up in front of all those people, and showed them my scars, cleverly hidden by hair or cloth, and showed my dead, hopeless eyes. Wednesday had won and my parents were fined with a hefty price of thousands upon thousands of Gil. Wednesday took me back to the Convent and took Guardianship of me. She placed me in the Convent where she taught me, schooled me and maybe loved me. I was five and I was in a top-elite school for Witches. I was still teased a lot, but it was a home I loved. A home I always desired. A home I always wanted.
When I was six years old I was given my familiar. My familiar was a baby snow leopard with golden-amber eyes, white fur with gray and black clumps of hair and two perfect white angel wings. I named him Gabriel, after one of our male archangels, an archangel I admired. With Gabriel I felt truly at home with people that cared about me. And for once I was able to smile, and laugh. But when I was seven I was placed in a dorm room. Not so bad right? Wrong. I was dorm mates with Lorraine, the supposed chosen child. She had lived near château where I live, and she hated and scorned me.
But I suppose Lorraine was pretty with her cascading platinum blonde hair and twilight blue eyes, now dulled to a powdered blue. I survived her then and I could survive her now. And I did through gritted teeth and much pillow punching.
Four years later, when I was eleven, I was given a cloud-pine twig for alter into my flying transportation. Most of the girls received the usual, broomsticks, feathers, disks or branches from a rowan, pauper or cherry tree. When Lorraine whet, said the complex string of Harpish words her twig transformed into a large clouded-pine branch, the soft wintergreen furs and the cinnamon and chestnut colored pinecones. The sign of the Queen of the Harpies and the sign of the Chosen One.
Oh, and me? A spoon. A large, wooden cooking spoon. It was about as large as a broom, the cusp of the spoon small, shallow and rounded. It was strangely made up of cloud-pine, but only Wednesday and I knew about that. As most of the girls proudly showed everyone their modes of transportation I locked my self in my dorm and worked endlessly on finding away to transform my spoon into something smaller until I had need of it. It took me two weeks, but it became a small wooden charm in shape of the Harpy. Only then was I able to come outside, unafraid of the taunts and scorn that followed me in the halls. But not to many of the girls taunted me in the presence of Gabriel. He had grown and neared my hips.
Perhaps because of that hate and scorn that I became strong. I forced myself to be strong and one day those fools would regret ever harming me. So as the years went by I forced myself to study, to train and learn more complex spells. Bu through all of that I always made the time to go to an island names Salvage Island to see one of my only friends next to Gabriel and Wednesday. His name was Briareos and I met him when I was ten.
That day when I met Briareos was the day that Wednesday took me to Salvage Island. She claimed that she needed to call in a favor for one of her friends on the Island. By that time I didn't sense anything suspicious, so I went along with her. I wanted to see the outside world. When she took me to meet Briareos, I was beyond agitated. Who was she, forcing me to make friend with some weirdo I didn't know. But it wasn't until I actually met Briareos until I recognized our similar pasts.
Briareos didn't know his parents, just like me, but he was an orphan, living in Salvage Island Orphanage. But he, unlike me had human friend, kids around his own age. But what was beyond strange about him was that at eleven, he was already in the military. He was prepared to be a foot soldier at thirteen. And it wasn't only our personalities and our likes and dislikes that made us have a weird friendship was our looks.
He was as sun-like as I was moon-like. He was a year older, too. He had rusty red-gold hair and sparkling, lively molten reddish-gold eyes. He had tanned skin about two shades darker than mine and his build was different as well. He was stronger, and leaner and, of course, had a larger muscle percentage than me. His ears weren't pointed, but they probably should have been, by the looks he was given as he showed me around the orphanage. Perhaps they were shocked that he was around a girl or maybe because I looked like something that crawled out of a storybook or a child's fairytale or a girl's fantasy.
My life got a little better after that, though Briareos and I were always in danger. Because a Witch could never have a male friend, only male lovers. And if anyone ever found out we could both be killed or sold as slaves. Life went on, school moved forward. I learned new spells. Gabriel grew larger and I grown older. I got a job as shrine maiden. And Lorraine and her posse still tormented me. But my friendship with Briareos kept me sane, or a least more sane than Briareos.
Briareos' Past
I never knew my parents. Two old ladies found me by the military base and took me to the Salvage Island Orphanage. When I was first introduced to the orphanage most people, and the older kids, though my parents abandoned me. I refused to listen to them at first, but as the years went by I realized that they were probably right.
By the time I was five years old, nearly ten people wanted to adopt me. I refused them all. I hoped that one day that my parents would come and find me. But that was when I was younger and naïve and thought the children were wrong. I clung onto that fantasy like a shipwrecked person who hung onto a piece of driftwood. It was honesty the only hope I had. Now, when I look back, I didn't know why I held onto that inkling. And most of the children wanted to know why I didn't want to be adopted. I told them my hopeless fantasy and they laughed. So when they told me that no parent ever wanted to adopt a kid they got rid of I submerged myself in mechanics.
So after that most people could find me in the library reading books on mechanics or tinkering on some broken clock. I drifted away from people and didn't bother to try and fix the gaping rift. And I never honestly thought that I would make any friends. But did I mention I'm never right?
I met three boys like me, and all had just as hard pasts as I did. They were Sparky, Spike, and Tony.
Sparky was somewhat on the bizarre and strange side of the world. He was cheerful, shrewd, and a bit insane. Not a good mix of clashing personalities. Even his hair was erratic, it was a bright lighting yellow and stood up on end that defied all laws of gravity. Spike said that Sparky stuck his finger in the electric socket, and that he got over the initial shock but his hair never recovered. He had lively, shrewd, bright bottle green eyes and was a full-blooded Al Bhed. His story was that his parents were killed in a ship-wreak when Bevellian soldiers attacked it. He was the only survivor of the ship-wreak and was dragged to the orphanage. We didn't know why the mistress of the orphanage let him in, be we reckoned that the orphanage was like a refugee camp for kids.
Spike was a full-blooded Guado, though he had amber-gold hair and eyes. Most of the kids were mean to him, too, calling him names for his amber looks. His skin was a shade lighter than mine and his hair was a spiked mass. His story was that him mom and dad dumped him off at the nearest place they could find. They didn't want the burden of raising a bratty, sniveling, snot-nosed brat. They just wanted to live life fast, drink, smoke and just have fun. When his parents figured out they were pregnant, they wanted to have an abortion, but they didn't have the Gil or they weren't at the proper place. So they had the child and dropped him off.
Tony was a half-Al Bhed, half-Guado. He had the turquoise eyes of the Guado and the sandy, golden-blonde hair of the Al Bhed. Tony was a bit insane and kept having flashbacks of his abusive past. His father was a drunk and a smoker and often fell under influence of drugs and took his anger out on Tony. Tony's mother was a whore-for-pay, and she, too, drank continuously, and smoked regularly. When under the influence they abused Tony, beating him with everything in sight. When the officials found his father under the charge of sexually abusive and underage teenage girl, they also found the broken and beaten Tony bleeding on the moldy floor of a shack he called a home. He was sent off to the orphanage and his parents were executed six months later at the guillotine. But Tony still had nightmares, flashbacks that haunted him every night.
The four of us together became the mechanics and we were always found messing around with broken and old mechanical toys. We all planned to join the military; we wanted to see the world.
When we turned nine we were enlisted for a children's boot camp. Boot camp was harsh and cruel almost to the point of being abusive. The drills were harsh and mind numbing. But some good luck was that Sparky, Spike, Tony and I were all placed in the same bunk. We all woke up at four and went to be at eleven. It was a hard system to get used to, but our bodies grew used to it and we were all good. We became immune to pain and we had never cried since.
When we turned ten the four of us began to draw in our free time. When one of the commanders found our drawing, he dragged our butts over to the military defense unit and showed the sketches to the head honcho, we were immediately moved from the boot camp and to the minor military defense unit branch. I didn't have to learn swordplay, so that was good, because, frankly, I sucked. So did the others. Sparky was good with staffs, Tony with axes, Spike with daggers and I was good with guns. The jobs we had at the defense unit were to create and improve weapons. Our first success was a silencer attachment and we were given a Luger each and a small sum of Gil. I used the Gil to by scrap metal to build a bicycle. It took nearly all my Gil, but in a about a year I finished it. And it worked like a dream.
When I was eleven I met someone who changed my life, but perhaps in a not-so-pleasant way. Wednesday was a woman who took care of me and was an acquaintance of mine. What, or I should say whom; Wednesday brought with her shocked me. It was a girl.
The girl she brought with her was tall for her age and had slightly tanned skin a shade or two lighter than mine. She had snowy-white hair with dark gray and inky black streaks. And her eyes astounded me, though they were a bit large for her face, they were a deep, dark stormy sea-gray eyes that seemed as much black as they were gray. They would have been breath taking, but they were ghostly, haunted, eerie almost as if she knew everything, and they were dead, her eyes were deader than Tony's. Wednesday told me that the girl's name was Fable. Wednesday also told me that she was Fable's Guardian and that Fable was a Witch-in-training. Fable watched me with wary intensity, as if I was about to jump her. Her familiar stood by her hips, an impressive looking snow leopard with intelligent amber eyes.
Wednesday left me with Fable and her dangerous looking familiar. I think she was trying to go homicide on me. Fable sat on the back of the leopard and stared at me with brutal intensity. I had introduced myself shakily when she told me, 'Briareos, usually it is the male who stares and the female that talks. Shall we switch roles?' After that Fable introduced me to her familiar named Gabriel and we made small talk, telling each other our pasts. We got along easily, but I was still wary of Gabriel and he of me.
She told me of life at the Convent, the different classes, and the different spells. I told her about the military. She listened with a strange intensity, she asked me about what the base looked like. Her eyes were locked on mine, reading my face almost as if she was seeing if I was telling the truth. When I told her about the boot camp and Tony and the others she didn't press when I paused. It was almost as if she knew everything about me. And to me Fable was a puzzle with millions and millions of pieces. When I told her so she laughed and told me soberly, 'A puzzle can never truly be complete. You can always see the lining of when you pieced them together. And sometimes you quit early or pieces are broken or missing. Just like people.'
Wednesday came they left for the Witch's Convent. We remained friends, though it was forbidden.
I never told Sparky and the others. I know that they'd laughed.
Life went on and Fable visited me regularly, but as the years passed she didn't come as often. By then I noticed that she had changed. Usually when we'd meet, we'd hug. But Fable didn't do that anymore. She seemed colder and more distant. I was fazed by the new Fable. The puzzle names Fable grew larger and more complex.
Something else stumped me as well. As a Witch, Fable usually had to make a spell-summon circle to perform magic. A spell-summon circle was a grid used to call upon spells and minor aeons if a witch was powerful enough. But now I noticed that she wasn't in need of one any more. I didn't press.
When I asked Fable about it she smiled bitterly and said that she didn't need the spell-summon circle anymore. I didn't press after that.
But I did ask one thing: how did she fly? The glare Fable gave me was enough to petrify stone and break it ten times over. I was surprised that I wasn't turned to stone. She told me through gritted teeth that she rode a spoon. And against by better judgment, I laughed. She sent a 'Fire' spell at me and told me to shut up if I valued my life. Yikes.
After that she told me a story. She told me the story of her spoon and Lorraine and her could-pine branch. I understood the puzzle a bit more.
Life moved forward and I grew older and Fable colder. I never understood Fable's detachment until years later. Then I knew why she didn't touch me.
The Curse of the Black Widow
Since I was young, I had always loved animals. One of my all-time favorite animals was the Black Widow Spider. I thought the Black Widow was beautiful with its inky-black body and its blood-red hourglass, and its eight long, graceful legs. I found the webs they made gorgeous as well. I loved the delicate silk; they were like silken thread, soft and silvery, all shiny in the sunlight.
But get this right: That spider…I never meant to kill it. But as retribution I was cursed by the Goddess of Death, the Black Widow.
The day I was cursed I was sitting on the freshly dewed blue grass that was lush under my body. I cradled one of the rare Black Widows in my hands, letting the spider demurely crawl onto my palm and over my closed fingers. It didn't bite me; it sensed my calmness, serenity and general curiosity. It gracefully walked about my hand walking in circles and adjacent lines, stopping to turn its eight opal black eyes up to my peering face. I gently and slowly opened my fingers and the spider jumped onto my pointer finger and began to weave a silken thread and began to descend to my outstretched left hand below me.
But disaster struck. One of the more prissy prigs, named Queenie, thought it would be rather amusing to send a spell at me, to test my reaction time. I didn't sense the spell until too late; I heard the hissing, cackling, and spitting of the 'Fira' spell too late. I only had enough time to jump aside as the Black Widow spider fell from my finger and made a sickening thud to the ground that lay before the raging fiery inferno. The spell rushed over the spot I was at and disappeared.
When the spell was completely gone I walked back over to the charred hole-in-the-ground where the spider was dropped. The spider was dead, a burned mass, the skin burned off and its eight legs clasped around its body in a protective manner as if to protects itself from the un-relentless flame. I sighed and turned away from the charred mass. I sat under a tree and stared at the black burnt grass. Everything I touched seemed to tremble and wither under my hands. I looked up to the sky and frowned.
The sky was a crystalline blue with small wisps of cirrus cloud and a slight warm breeze that came from the harbor. And now the sky was covered in a blackish-purple cumulonimbus clouds, the very center a deep blood red. Red, purple and black lighting cackled from the ominous looking cloud as I stood up. Thunder echoed through the garden, sending Witches screaming and screeching. I looked to the ground and stood there, petrified. Goo of purple, red, orange, and black bubbled from the earth, and from the mass of the revolting mass came a woman.
The woman was implausibly tall with extensive, dank, knotted onyx black hair that reached the ground. Cobwebs and spider webs clung to her greasy, dank hair, Black Widows danced across the knotted mass. Blood-red eyes looked at me though horizontal hourglass pupils. Her skin was pitch-black the same color as her hair. Her black dress was made of tattered and unsullied and sticky cobwebs and spider webs. She was heavily pregnant. She smiled and long lines of razor sharp teeth gleamed at me and a forked tongue darted from her strangely ruby-red lips that were cracked and bleeding blackish-purple blood. A third eye opened on her forehead, it gleamed purple and its large summon-circled iris and pupil looked at me. The women looked at me with her normal eyes, and they darkened. Then it hit me. She was the Black Widow.
'Where…is…my…child!' She had screeched at me, she grabbed my hand and turned it over, and wailed, a horrible sound of nails over a chalkboard, the sound of whip meeting flesh, the sound of screams of people being burned alive.
'Slaughterer!' She hissed at me, her forked tongue licking my cheeks. 'You killed my child! Now you shall pay! You will never touch a living thing!' She screeched in pure mirth. She took my hands in hers, her fingers resting on my silky-smooth palm. Her long, sharp, filthy nails pricking my skin. In a sudden sadistic movement she stabbed those foul nails into my skin. I let out a surprised sound and tried to rip my hands away. The Black Widow let me. She brought her blood stained nails up to her cracked lips and her forked tongue eagerly lapped up my ruby-red blood. She let out a laugh, a cruel, harsh, feral, rasping, ancient, hellish laugh and disappeared in a flash of cobwebs and red lighting. I collapsed to the ground and barely hand enough energy to create a healing spell-summon circle. I cradled my hands and cleaned off the blood and I wish I didn't.
When the Black Widow stabbed me, she had left a mark. Crawling on – inside – my hands, like living tattoos were three Black Widows apiece on each hand. They weaved and spun new webs, daring on the back of my hand and palm as if they knew it. I closed my eyes and a single tear ran down my cheek and into my right palm. When I opened my eyes I saw the tear transmute into a black body with an hourglass and eight legs, a baby black widow. It crawled about my hand unevenly as it got aquatinted to my hand. I closed my eyes again and placed my hands on the ground and tears fell out freely. When I wiped my hands and looked at the ground I wailed. A hand-shaped imprint was where I placed my hand and now it was nothing more than a brown-bronze print with dirt and useless seeds about. I understood what the Black Widow meant then, but to make sure I walked over to a small bush of roses and touched a wine-red petal. The petal turned black and withered away. I looked back to the spot were I was, footprints of dead grass followed me and I looked down at my bare feet. I sighed. After that I began to wear gloves, and the only thing I could touch was Gabriel, he was like my soul. And how was it that as I got older, the world wanted to do me in?
But after that I began to conjecture did this curse – this gift – give me a greater purpose?
The Seven Districts
In the main island of the island ark of Guadosalam was the large island of Farplane's Keeper. Farplane's Keeper was once the true Guadosalam before the war. When Spira split and divided by a colossus machina called Vegnagun, Guadosalam took some of the Moonflow and the Thunder Plains with it. Farplane's Keeper still held the Farplane and the large cyanide-green glass platform and the beginning coast of the Thunder Plains. By the largeness and disorderliness of the island the island was split into seven organized districts according to its area. The seven districts were Distorted Water, Hellish Flames, Sacred Winds, Sacrificial Lightning, Grieving Stones, Forbidden Light and Malignant Darkness.
The District of Distorted Water was the main wharf of Farplane's Keeper as well as the fish harbor, boat docking and the very famous Undine's Fishmarket. Most of the fish the market had were herring, carp, pike, salmon, swordfish, tuna, and sometimes whale, seal, eel, shark or crabs. But every blue moon we catch the rare fiend devilfish, the normal devilfish and the rare fiend piranha. Besides the fishmarket the District of Distorted Water also held a natural water wildlife preserve for rare and endangered Aquarian life. Aquarian life such as the blue scaled and haired undines, horned water demons, sapphire-scaled water dragons, fair-skinned humanoid dryads, the fair race of Mer-people, and the seductive Sirens. The entire district was covered in a low fog that was cool to the touch and held the colors of Preflies, the District also smelled of the ocean, and the Sirens beautiful aroma. The District of Distorted Water's sign was a Siren holding a bowl studded in sapphires, pearls, aquamarines and diamonds filled with Prefly water that had silver colored ripples distorting the Siren's beautiful visage. A rising city of coral and stone stood in the background.
The District of Hellish Flames dealt with metals and leathers. Many forges, smithies, armories, weaponries, and tanners were placed around the district in an orderly fashion. Hellish Flames was always scorching hot and its walls were always a fire-red the was hot to the touch. Arks of flames were always seen flying out of the chimneys of smithies, armories and weaponries. It was also a small trading center for Travelers, who dealt in trading metals, weapons and hides from rare animals. The district always smelt of burning metal, soot, ash, smoke and sweat. The sign for Hellish Flames was a fire demon with its curved horns and body made of fire holding a silver and gold blade in one hand that was studded with rubies, onyxes, and diamonds and a shield in a filigree gold and bronze in the other that was studded with rubies, onyxes, and diamonds.
The District of Sacred Winds was Farplane's Keeper's bizarre, specializing in markets and shops. Sacred Winds also held the great herb market that dealt in selling rare spices, herbs and plants. Sacred Winds also held the trading market that brought new foods, fashion, and literary class to our island. Sacred Winds also carried Seers, fortunetellers, palm readers, and mystics. I wasn't too fond of Sacred Winds, but mostly because the stores asked for too much Gil and the mystics were forced into a small alley that was too dingy for anyone to live in. The alley was dank, smelly, moldy, and not a suitable place to live and the People wore rags, they were skeletal and fear provoking. When the People moved in, the aristocrats began to call it Fool's Alley. When Wednesday first, literally, dragged me to Fool's Ally I fell in love with it. When I was old enough to sneak out, I ran to Fool's Alley and begged lessons from the Seers. They turned me away coldly; thinking that I was mocking them, but when I showed them I was serious, they trained me and Fool's Alley began to look much, much better.
Fool's Alley was interesting, before it was deserted it was once a full of life strip of market, but was abandoned after the District was entitled to more land. It was nothing more than a nuisance now. The oil lamps were fractured and yellowed with age, the fairy shaped lamp holders turned black with age, small slivers of silver glinting feebly through the black rust, broken with age, with pieces splintered or gone astray. The oil was near missing and no one had come by to refill the bauble-shaped glasswork. The stained glass windows of shops were boarded up, broken, or spider-webbed. The doors were busted, the paint chipped, and flaking off, bolts and hinges were absent or broken. Boards and shingles were gone, the cobblestone walkway was jagged, slabs of rock gone, broken, or shattered. But now that the People had moved in and taken reign they had replaced the stained glass windows, repainted the doors, bought bolts and hinges, repaved and rehabilitated the walkway. They kept the fairy lamps, though, they said they gave it class and bought oil to refill it. The District of Sacred Winds' sign was a cherry blossom tree with wood nymphs dancing about the tree as a slight breeze blew about.
The District of Sacrificial Lighting dealed in pleasure. It carried hotels, motels, and pleasure hotels. It also dealt in drinking, smoking, drugs, gambling and clubs. I had always hated Sacrificial Lighting with its obnoxious neon lights, noise, and the people inside it. I hated the dark cumulonimbus that swirled above it. I hated its blackish-purple thunderhead, and the colorful lighting that darted and forked about the district. I hated the stench of oil, sweat and wines, beers and spirits. I hated the rain that pattered-petered one the cement. I hated the warmth of the rain and its softness. The only reason I hated it was when I was younger I had the so-called-pleasure of taking a wrong turn from the District of Grieving Stones. Once I saw the ominous-looking cloud above I turned around. So to put it simply, I hated that district. The District of Sacrificial Lighting's sign was a bolt of lighting dancing around a scantly clad woman.
The District of Grieving Stones was all about the earth. It was the home of Flora's Herbmarket and the legendary Fauna's Flowermarket. It sold rare plants that were only native to other islands such roses, hibiscus, snapdragons, lilies, and azaleas and rare herbs, spices and healing tonics. Grieving Stones was all right, but the most glorious place was the Petrified Garden, a garden that was petrified as soon as the death of the Flower Maiden. The entire garden was stuck in an everlasting spring. Most people thought the stone garden was dreadful, but I thought it was stunning. Each petal of each flower was coated gently in stone, dew that rolled down the petals were frozen as well. Each insect caught in the crossfire was frozen as well. Water from fountains stood stoic as the stony wind blew through the gardens. Another sight worth seeing was the statue of the Garden Maiden. The Garden Maiden was the Goddess of Life and Earth. She was the Mother Earth. She was killed by a bloodied sword. The Garden Maiden was placed in the middle of the garden; she had long hair that cascaded to her hips hat was kept in a twisted braid. She wore a ribbon in her hair and a long button-up dress that went down to her knees and a jacket that went over her dress. Clunky boots adorned her feet and a rose was in one hand and a staff in one hand, a large jewel studded in the top of the staff. Her eyes were wide and expressive, holding love, compassion, warmth and memories of an old, old woman. The District of Grieving Stones' sign was the Garden Maiden with her hands clasped at her breasts, her eyes closed and a breeze teasing her hair and cherry blossom petals swirling about her face.
The District of Forbidden Lights was where I lived. The Witch's Convent was located in Forbidden Lights. The Witch's Convent was about the size of a small castle with six floors, a running field, and a garden. The first three floors were classrooms, and the top three rooms were dorm rooms. The entire castle was done in rose and pearl marble and the turrets of the castle done in a powder blue. Four towers stood in the four directions and wide stained glass windows covered the convent. A large archway made of magewrought black iron stood sentry at the courtyard of the school. Next to the Witch's Convent was the Wizard's School. The Wizard's School was seven stories high and a bit larger than the Convent. It, too, had a running field, and a training field. It was done in blue and black marble with five towers, four in the directions of east, south, north and west and one in the middle. The first three floors were classrooms and the top four were dorm rooms. The Wizard's School, as well, held a magewrought black iron fence that separated the Convent and the outside of the school. The reason why the two schools were placed together was in hopes of finding soon-to-be wives or husbands for Witches or Wizards. Along with the magic schools were churches for the Garden Maiden, the Everlasting Lord, and a few others. I never went to church, I never believed. Sending shrines were there as well, with tall, ugly, imposing shrines where the Senders had to use gaudy staffs and overpowering smells of flowery incense waived through the shrines. The District of Forbidden Lights' sign was an ethereal harpy with long hair and angel wings sloping over her bare shoulders and bright blazing sapphire blue eyes.
The District of Malignant Darkness was the downside of Farplane's Keeper. It was the slums; the homes made of scrap metal, aluminum, and melted and mutated steel. It was also the place where the underground Thieves Guild ruled in their underground palace made of gold, platinum, silver and bronze. It was were the Gypsies lived in their colorful caravans and wore their delicate and uniquely colored dresses, trousers, shirts, vests, and shawls. The Black Widow shrines were there, too, the Black Widow in all her glory, her pregnant stomach bulging out of her cob webbed dress. Statues of Black Widow spiders were strewn about the shrine in no apparent pattern. Burning sticks and rods of incense stood burning a putrid spell of blood, rotting flesh, burning flesh and spider's venom. The black, red, and purple smoke curled in swirling patterns. The Dark Witch's Convent was there, too. It was seven stories tall made of spiky and cantankerous spires and towers, the Convent was made of black and dark purple marble. Old gnarled, twisted oak trees and pauper trees stood guard at the entrance of the school. I went to the Dark Convent as well, and I learned how to distort time, summon dark creatures, and how to use forbidden spells. Only the best Witch's went there, and I was one of them. In their ranks I earned the name 'Daughter of the One-Winged Angel'. I was welcomed into the Thieves Guild and became an assassin. The District of Malignant Darkness was my favorite District, no questions asked. The Sign of the District of Malignant Darkness was a picture of a woman with silver hair and cyanide-green eyes holding a black flame in her hand, peering into the flame, seeing a picture of a chimera, her beautiful dark stormy-gray hair dancing in an ill-omened breeze.
The Seven District was what made up Farplane's' Keeper. It was its protector – and its worst destroyer.
End Chapter. This was just an introductory chapter. Talking and action will occur in future chapters.
FEED ME ------> REVIEW