Capes and Quills- a collection of tales

  Anxiety filled the Traveler as she walked toward a town covered in ice, the sun blocked out by dark grey clouds, which seemed to smother and suffocate any light that seeped out. In her rush, she almost bumped into a girl holding a basket of fruit, instantly apologizing. The girl simply gave a smile and warned her to be careful of ice on the cobbles, as it was common for people to fall and hurt themselves. The Traveler nodded, continuing on slowly, as her shoes were not built for snowy landscapes. Cold as ever, she found herself by a communal bonfire, being maintained by an old man. The smell of smoke reminded her of that night, the Traveler instantly closing her eyes, sending that memory to the back of her mind. What mattered now was to ensure nothing like that ever happened again, and the only way to do so was to collect 100 stories. The old man gently approached her. “Cold?” he asked, and she nodded slightly, as he observed the material. “That cloak isn’t really built for this ...

  The Traveler found herself in a dark part of the woods, searching for an exit in order to get away from the thicket of trees and shadows cast by them, shadows which could easily hide all sorts of enemies and adversities. Clutching her cloak, she tried to hide her trembling as she walked, faster and faster. A sudden snap of a branch frightened her, the girl freezing in place as footsteps started to echo through the forest. Heart starting to pound, she began to run, feeling as if he was right behind her. Sprinting to lighter patches, she suddenly spotted a small cottage, rushing toward it and out of the forest, not even looking back and instead clutching her hood until it was practically over her eyes, heart racing and thoughts clouding her mind. Her panic caused her to drop to her knees, trying to control her fear and loud, sharp breaths. Hands shaking, she stayed in place for a moment, relieved when all she heard was birdsong and the rustling of leaves from the nearby trees. Then...

  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 made her feel as if any sin was being washed away by the wind, leaving her reborn. But, she knew this was just fantasy. Scanning the dock, her eyes rested on a lone fisherman, lost in his own mind as he waited for any signs of life in the water. Finding a spare fishing rod nearby, she decided blending in might be the best approach, and sat down near him, throwing the hook into the water and waiting. Suddenly, something began pulling at it, hard, and she gritted her teeth, trying to use what little strength she had, but it was futile, and the rod was snatched by whatever fish was down below the pier. “You know, it’s said that mermaids steal fishing rods?” the man behind her suddenly spoke, startling the Traveler, before she realized what this could mean. He turned to face her, reeling in his own rod and placing it down beside him, the two sitting cros...

 The Traveler found herself in a lighter part of the forest, surrounded by flowers and mushrooms. Bending down, she touched one with her hand- the petals were soft, like the fabric of a new dress, and the inner centre harder, like a gemstone wrapped in a protective cloth. Suddenly, her ears picked up on a nearby sound, laughter, and she tensed up, regaining her stance and moving behind a tree, briefly checking behind her to ensure nobody was following her. Heading toward the source of the sound whilst hiding in the shadows cast by the branches, she found herself close to a couple, laughing together. Curious yet wary, the Traveler watched them, realizing the woman was on a swing and being pushed by the man, both of them laughing together. Staring at them, the Traveler felt something sting inside her, as if her soul had been pricked by a needle. Taking a breath, she decided to approach, both in hopes of finding a tale and in fear of staying in one place for too long. Her legs felt he...

  The Traveler arrived near a huge manor, noticing three children playing together on a swing set attached to a tree, decorated with flowers. She gazed at them, before one of them noticed her, the smallest and likely the youngest. The little girl walked toward her and stared at the cloaked girl, curious. The Traveler looked down at her, the child tilting her head. “You look like someone I know.” she whispered, the Traveler instantly going stiff. There was no way anyone here knew her, so this was impossible. The girl then whispered to her that she had a secret, a secret not even her sisters knew. The Traveler, curious, bent down to listen, and the child began to tell her of ‘the Dream Watcher.’ ‘Every night, when three sisters go to sleep, the Dream Watcher appears at their window. A figure cloaked in blue, almost the colour of twilight, and wearing a feathered mask which looks similar to an owl, she holds a staff and observes them as they sleep. She observes their dreams, their liv...

  The Traveler and Sarafelle sat in a tavern, quietly seated at the bar. Sarafelle made small talk whilst drinking, before somebody bumped into her, the Traveler’s book falling to the floor in the collision. Quickly, the Traveler grabbed it, before noticing something strange. On the edge of one of the pages, there was a little dot of blood. Bright red, and fresh. A threat. She stiffened up, steadily surveying the room. No sign of him, but he was close enough. Sarafelle stared down, before going pale. She couldn’t risk him following her and endangering the Traveler. Helping her companion up, she promised to return at a later date and hurried off, the Traveler deciding to find somewhere desolate and quiet so she could keep an eye on her surroundings and make sure she wasn’t being followed. Her search led her to an abandoned windmill, battered by time and looking unstable, but a good enough hiding spot. As it began to rain, leaks poured in from the cracks, so the Traveler made haste a...