Capes and Quills- a collection of tales

  One cold night, Sarafelle and the Traveler found themselves in a desolate field, a clearing where they could see thousands of stars above. The two spent a moment gazing at the brilliant sky, before remembering they should search for shelter, and where possible, a person to help them complete their goal. After wandering around the fields for a while, they came across a lone shepherd and his sheep, the man warming himself by a brilliant fire which lit up the night. He spotted them, and waved them over, beckoning them to sit down and warm themselves too. He gave them a little food and offered to tell them a story so they could pass the time, the Traveler instantly nodding. The shepherd thought for a moment, before a deep wave of sadness seemed to pass over him. He sighed and nodded, preparing to tell the tale of ‘The abandoned portrait.’ ‘Not too long ago, there lived a painter. He was born into a family of shoemakers and shepherds alike, and thus was considered the outcast of his f...

  The Traveler and Sarafelle arrived in a bright town, where a woman was selling flowers on the side of the road. Sarafelle bought one, and asked for her best story in exchange, the Traveler instantly pulling out her book to record the tale. She knew Sarafelle was genuinely trying to help, and trusted her a little more. The woman smiled at both of them and decided the best story she knew was of ‘the Magical Juggler.’ ‘Many years ago, long before you were born, there lived a Juggler who was famed for his tricks. However, they all rested on one simple fact- the balls the Juggler juggled were ones he had turned invisible, so he performed the most delicate and difficult tricks whilst being unable to see the balls themselves. He drew a crowd for many years, before a visiting King saw the attractions and requested the Juggler perform for him. The Juggler, unable to decline such a request from nobility, spent hours perfecting his tricks in front of people, drawing crowds the size of citie...

The Traveler wandered through the woods, before seeing a young woman in a brown pinafore approach her. She began to panic- it had to be his doing, and if this girl was really the eyes of the beast, she had no way of defending herself. Wary, she tried to keep her distance, ducking between trees and rushing out of darker patches, where he may be hiding, before stumbling in a clearing and dropping the precious book. The woman approached her, the Traveler shielding herself, and bent down to pick up the book. Quietly, she handed it to the Traveler, offering a hand. The Traveler paused. Was such a gesture trustworthy? And what was the intent? She shook her head and stood up by herself, turning away and beginning to walk toward the nearby town. The woman spoke. “You won’t find a tale there, I tried.” The Traveler’s heart began to race. This person knew her goal. She had to be in leagues with him. She continued walking. “Traveler! I mean you no harm. My name is Sarafelle, and I only want to he...

  Arriving in a bustling town, the Traveler sat on a rock near a waterwheel and scanned the crowd. Children played in rings, singing rhymes, and adults chatted together, all oblivious to the presence of a stranger among them. She grew fearful. Nobody here was noteworthy, or willing to talk to her. Previously, chance encounters or brief interactions had helped her to find the necessary tales, but there was no air of mystery or even friendliness here. Suddenly, she turned, as someone dropped a bucket. A milkmaid had tripped and was now despairing, and likewise ignored by the crowd. The Traveler moved closer and picked up the wooden bucket. It was heavy even without the milk, but she could manage despite her frail stature. She held out a hand for the fallen milkmaid. The woman stared at her for a moment, before accepting the aid and standing, offering to show the Traveler the way to the field, limping a little. The Traveler nodded and they walked together, the woman eventually having ...

The Traveler walked through a forest path, avoiding the darker areas and eventually coming across a cottage, where a little girl was playing nearby. The child approached the Traveler, curious about her and trying to sneak a peek under her cloak, but in vain, as the Traveler held it firmly. The child began to chatter to the Traveler, about her family and her home, and then asked the Traveler if she’d like to hear a special secret, the Traveler gently nodding. The little girl grinned and started to tell the story of ‘The Shroom Society.’ ‘At the bottom of the cottage’s garden, there’s a patch of grass where mushrooms grow, both red and white and brown ones. At night, when the adults go to bed, the largest one stands up out of the ground and leads the other ones through the door to the pantry. The entire group then climb up to the top of the shelf, and grab a piece of cheese from the cupboard. Every single night, the leader insists they steal more cheese, and thus they go on nightly exped...

The Traveler arrived in a wealthy town, decorated with manors, mansions and palaces alike, and found herself sitting by a well, where a young lord sat on the other side, seemingly trying to shirk his responsibilities. Looking past him, she saw a familiar shape in the shadows and promptly moved to face it, hoping to keep an eye out. Due to this, she ended up sitting next to the lord, who gently greeted her and asked her what brought her to town. She quietly explained she collected tales, and the lord instantly said he could help, having heard an exhilarating story just the other night in the local tavern. Grateful, the Traveler prepared to write everything down, flipping to an empty page and pulling out her quill from under her cape. The lord smiled and prepared to tell the tale of ‘the Siren’s hamartia.’ ‘Long ago, there lived an old beggar woman who would walk from town to town, begging for a place to stay. Often, she would be taken in by young men, hoping to show her pity, and she wo...