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, decorating it with trees and ancient stone castles. As she painted, she created towns and villages, wonders and worries, characters and stories. And inside each, she infused a tiny fragment of herself, so that they might come alive with the spark of life and feel as real as she. And as the days passed, and her painting grew, people began to enjoy it, commenting on the way it was drawn and the depth of the world the artist had created. However, the artist knew a simple truth. There would come a day when she would no longer be able to paint, and her painting would thus be left unfinished, but that she would put down the brush and hand it to someone else, that they may continue to build a legacy in her place.’

The Traveler liked the tale quite a bit, enjoying illustrating the magic brush that could create soil and flowers, sand and sea. The woman, too, gave a smile, before finishing her cleaning and sweeping the dust away, explaining she had to go inside and cook dinner for her family. Departing, she wished the Traveler luck, and the Traveler left the town, surroundings becoming more and more familiar.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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...
Read more

Tale 35- The Mantelpiece Wars

  The Traveler walked down the stairs toward the dining room, freshly washed and re-dressed in her same old cloak and the few bits of clothing underneath. She’d tried to wash herself as thoroughly as possible, if only to remove the sins of others from her body. Though it was futile, it at least made her feel a little better. She walked through to the sitting room, noticing the head of the home, affectionately named ‘Ma’, and two little boys in her care who were sitting by the mantlepiece, playing with some red and blue toy soldiers. They didn’t look old, and reminded her of her own family. She stared down at them as they played, ‘Ma’ giving her a smile and offering her to sit. One of the boys suddenly swore at the other, pretending to be a soldier, to which the woman immediately reprimanded them. “Hey, you little rascal, you’re not allowed to say those words!” She spoke, the two boys ceasing their game and the culprit looking up at her apologetically. “Sorry ma, I was just playin’!...
Read more

Tale 76- The Greedy King

  The Traveler arrived in a village square, where a jester was juggling and playing with a puppet, sat inside a travelling caravan. He called the passerby over, the girl being surprised but unafraid, and asked her to choose a card from the deck. Ace of Spades. She stared down at it, the jester then taking it and not looking, before pulling it out of the shuffled deck flawlessly, surprising her. She nodded, confirming it was her card, and the man smiled. “Ace of Spades, this little card here has a lot of meanings. In some contexts it can indicate bad luck and even perhaps death, whilst in others it can indicate pleasure and voracious love. It can mean overcoming an emotional hurdle due to lack of appreciation, and it can even mean a happy future in some cases. Interesting card to be pulled by a wanderer.” he winked, the girl averting her eyes slightly but nodding. Voracious love was the last thing she wanted out of life, but to hear she could overcome this hurdle…she couldn’t help a...
Read more