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Tale 100- The Wilting Roses

  Staring down at her book, the Traveler gently turned each page. Tales of beasts, of sirens, of stars, of mice and of men, of ghosts and globes, of bugs and crows…of blooms and blossoms. The Traveler took a deep breath and pushed back her cloak slightly, the torn rags underneath being gently pushed and pulled by the night wind. She raised her quill for the final time, ready to write her own tale. The tale of ‘the Wilting Roses.’ ‘Once upon a time, in a cottage by a mountain, there was a kind, innocent daughter who was the older sister of two brothers, both of whom she loved dearly. Adored by her family, the girl was given everything she could ever dream of- two wonderful parents, a seamstress and an hourglass-maker, and two fun and sweet little brothers, one dramatic, and one shy. They all shared a room together, acting out stories and playing pretend, and would spend their days doing chores or making flower crowns. One strange day, though, the girl was sweeping snow from the door...
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Tale 99- The Child of Destiny

  The sea breeze pulled at the cloak of the Traveler, who breathed in the fresh air. The ocean air was always clean, and breathing it reminded her just how far she’d come. She’d regained the love of her family, even their ghosts had told her so, and reunited with the brother she’d denied for so long. Despite that, one hole in her heart still remained, and that was the hole left by Sarafelle’s death. Her unfinished vow would never be able to be spoken, as the girl was unable to tell her how much she loved her, but it seemed fate was cruel to them, keeping them apart no matter how hard they tried. She looked over at the dock, where a lone person was fishing, the Traveler noticing they were holding a small, childish rod. Unlike last time, no other rod lay nearby, so the Traveler just sat near the person, who was wearing a large hat and thus had indiscernible features. Nonetheless, the person gave a knowing smile, offering to tell a story that their father had told them, the tale of ‘t...
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Tale 98- The Boy Claimed by Ice

  The Traveler found herself walking down the path toward a familiar house, one with a large back garden and two floors, a small window overlooking the outdoors. It took her a moment, but she suddenly knew exactly where she was, feeling tears filling her eyes. She was home. She thought she saw a face in the window upstairs, but they were gone, and soon a man stepped outside, dressed in overalls and covered in wood shavings. He was a carpenter clearly, but as he stood before her, his eyes changed slightly. Staring down, they filled with tears, and he rushed toward her, tightly hugging her. Only then did the Traveler realize who was in front of her, burying her head in his shoulder. “Edwin…” she whispered, tightly throwing her arms around him and the man giving her a gentle embrace. Her youngest brother…he was so much bigger now, whilst she hadn’t changed a bit. She looked up at him, seeing the resemblance between his younger face and him now, even despite the fact he now had a moust...
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Tale 97- The Writer's Isle

  The Traveler continued down the path, finding herself by a large field of flowers and finding a girl sitting up on a fence, writing in some sort of notebook. Curious, she stepped closer, the girl giving her a smile and swinging her legs so that she was facing her. The fields behind were in bloom with forget-me-nots, reminding the Traveler of the promise she vowed to keep, and the girl in front of her turned her book around, revealing a drawing of a desk with plenty of fish and life surrounding it. She smiled down at the Traveler, who hopped up onto the fence beside her, the girl telling the tale of ‘the Writer’s Isle’ ‘There exists an island in the middle of a lake, surrounded by iridescent fish and rushing water, cherry blossom trees overlooking the desk which sits upon it. The place is decorated in lanterns and paper cranes, constellations etched into the sky above and glowing each night like jewels. It’s a solitary oasis, a place in which a writer can come to achieve peace and...
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Tale 96- The Magic Brush

  Continuing to walk through the familiar town, the Traveler came across a young woman sweeping her steps, getting the sensation and wondering how to approach her. As the woman continued to clean, however, her wedding ring flew right off her finger, the Traveler rushing to retrieve it and handing it back to her, the woman beaming. “Thank you, young one.” She spoke, the Traveler giving a respectful nod and a smile in response. The woman stared down at the book the Traveler was holding, asking if she liked to read. Eagerly, the Traveler nodded, the woman leaning against her broom and giving a smile, offering to tell her a fantastic tale she heard the other night at the local tavern. With a smile, the Traveler opened the book, ready to write the tale of ‘the Magic Brush’ ‘Once, there lived an artist who had the ability to create anything she desired through the power of a magic brush. She painted the sky in all its brilliance, the sea with the depths and darknesses, and the land, deco...
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Tale 95- The Insomniac's Visions

  The Traveler continued to traverse, finding herself in a small town and noticing a girl sitting by a fountain, reading and absentmindedly feeding some nearby birds. She looked quite tired, but the Traveler got her familiar sensation and approached her nonetheless, sitting beside her and opening her own book, spotting an illustration mistake and correcting it. The girl beside her took a slight peek at her book, the Traveler giving a little smile and opening it properly so she could see, the girl gazing at the illustration of the boy surrounded by the swamp monsters. “They look like the monsters I see sometimes…” she whispered, the Traveler tilting her head slightly in curiosity. The girl rubbed her eyes from tiredness, and gave a weak smile. “You probably won’t believe me…” she yawned, the Traveler shaking her head. “Trust me…I’ve seen and been through some insane things…” she replied, her mind flickering between memories of Marcielle, Sarafelle and Calius, memories of her journey...
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Tale 94- The Five Fiddle Fighters

  Continuing on, the scenery began to get more and more familiar, though the Traveler wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she was taking an alternate route to a town she’d visited before? Though she was sure she had walked away from Sarafelle’s home, she still found herself in familiar locations. Regardless, she felt more free than ever, and managed to keep herself motivated to go and find the last few tales she needed. As she walked, she encountered a man who was sitting by a tree and playing some music, the Traveler stopping to listen. His guitar was etched with the initials ‘FFF’, which piqued her curiosity, and the man smiled, offering to let her try playing. The Traveler gave her best attempt, though the instrument was a little big for her, and plucked at the strings, the man showing her the best way to hold it and the hand positions needed to play a simple song. By the end of it, he’d taught her some basic strumming and how to play a melody, the Traveler recognizing it as the lullaby th...
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