Friday, December 09, 2005

The Frog Princess

Thie bit is really out of order here, but it was begging to be written, so I jumped ahead a bit and began it. I have not decided just what relationship this character will have with Muirin, but it will be one of the many stories that she will hear.
It began as a song lyric wraparound of In The Air by Phil Collins. I do these either to clear my mind, take a break from 'Last request', or to get me back on track.
Oh yeah. What I failed to mention, was that this is the product of a nasty cold and lots of Nyquil and Airborne. You can dose me up with Darvocet, Motrin, Tordal and other prescription fun stuff, but they dont shake my brain like Nyquil does! This fairytale was inspired by a Nyquil dream...
*********The Frog Princess
The evening air seemed to claw at my lungs, causing them to burn. Is it possible to breathe too much? I felt as if I had been running for hours, although I had been clinging to the bole of an ancient oak for what seemed like an eternity. Perhaps I should not have delayed my return. But I had to be sure it was safe! Who am I kidding? My fear kept me from running. It kept me hidden in the trees until I knew she was gone.
How long I stayed in the tree, I do not know. Each time I convinced myself to let go of the tree and return to the city, waves of nausea washed over me. It seemed as if the very earth itself was spinning around at an alarming rate. I could not tell the difference between the earth and the sky, so I clung fast to the tree and pressed my forehead to its bark. At length I finally slid down, determined to tell my tale. I no longer cared what would come of it. I had kept it to myself for too long. How many times must I witness her cruel ritual before I went mad? Perhaps I was already mad. How much longer could I keep my secret?
Five long years had already passed since she had sworn me to silence upon pain of death. She knew I would obey. Ever since the cradle, and perhaps since we shared a womb, she had shown herself to be stronger than I. She was even born first. She would laughingly jest that she had pushed me out of the way in order to be the eldest. I did not doubt her words. Never would I dream she would take it this far. I had to stop her. She had already gone too far.
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lordI've been waiting for this moment, all my life, oh lordCan you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord, oh lordAs I drew closer to the gates of the city, I slowed my pace. I had been running the entire time, afraid that if I stopped running, I would lose my resolve. Once I was in sight of the gates, I hid behind a large tree and nervously began to smooth the front of my dress in an effort to rid myself of the bits of dried grass and leaves that were clinging to it. I was startled by a small tree frog that jumped onto my wrist as I smoothed my pocket. I idly wondered where he had come from and concluded that he must have crawled into my pocket while I was hiding in the oak tree. I marveled at his brilliant color and the almost human like way he was looking at me. His eyes were an odd honey brown color. I decided to keep him for good luck, as my sister had a deep loathing for frogs. If I had known then, what I know now, I would have named her loathing a fear. I deposited a kiss on his forehead and placed him gently in my pocket. As I did so, I thought I heard a sigh. Could it have come from the frog? My mother used to tell me stories of enchanted princes who were freed from their frog forms by a simple kiss. But those were childhood fancies, and I chalked it up to the soft breeze that floated by.
Well, if you told me you were drowningI would not lend a handI've seen your face before my friendBut I don't know if you know who I amWell, I was there and I saw what you didI saw it with my own two eyesSo you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've beenIt's all been a pack of liesI stood there for several moments, lost in contemplation as I idly stroked the frogs smooth back with my thumb. My hand rested in my pocket as he nestled against my curled fingers. His tiny 'chin' rested upon my forefinger as I thought. Again, I thought I heard a sigh. But as I listened carefully, all I could hear was a soft 'chirrup-chirrup-chirrup' emanating from the tiny amphibian in my hand. Inevitably, my mind wandered back to the memory that haunted both my dreams and waking moments.
On the eve of our sixteenth birthday, I noticed my sister slip out into the inky night. It was near midnight, and I thought it odd that she should sneak out of her bedroom window dressed in her best gown. I ran out onto the balcony, only to see her disappear among the trees that lined the edge of the garden. I hastily leaped from the low balcony onto the soft carpet of grass below me. I had learned to be as agile as a cat, never knowing when my sister would lose her temper next. I did not wish to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
I silently followed her for what seemed like hours. I flitted from shadow to shadow, just barely keeping her in sight. Only once did she turn around. Already I could see a change in her appearance. Her once fair form seemed pinched and skeletal in the moonlight. As she turned towards me, to look over her shoulder, her once soft features seemed to jut out at odd angles. Oddly enough, her eyes were brilliantly crisp and bright, even in the dim light. I chastised myself for not noticing these things sooner. The only things I had worried about were her diminished appetite and her increased bouts of rage that would have put an injured dragon to shame.
Just as a sickle shaped moon rose above the treetops, we came upon a small clearing surrounded by brambles and fern. I nimbly scaled a nearby oak tree. As she approached the edge of the clearing, she waved her right hand and the brambles parted, giving her just enough room to pass by. As soon as she stood in the clearing, the brambles wove their branches together, leaving no trace of an opening. From my vantage point, I could see every detail of the strange clearing.
In the center of the clearing was a tiny pond. It was more of a puddle with a few rushes growing from it. Next to the pond was a large flat boulder. Besides these things, there was nothing but grasses and a few patches of clover. I could not even venture a guess as to her purpose.
She produced two pouches from the folds of her dress and placed them on the rock. Out of the first bag, she removed a white flower, a dagger and a small vial. From the second bag, she removed a large bull frog and held him fast in one hand. Of all that I had seen so far, the frog surprised me the most. For, as I have mentioned, my sister had an aversion to frogs. I did not think it possible that she should be able to carry one, especially among the folds of her dress. I thought no more of it, and returned my attention to my sister.
By now she had her back to me, and I could no longer see what she was doing with the items she had produced from the pouches. A sickening mist began to creep along the floor of the clearing, and a wild chorus of frogs began to emanate from the tiny pond. I could have sworn that the frog was begging her to let him go. A dreadful deep croak could be heard above her manic laughter. I jumped a bit in spite of myself as the bull frog suddenly leapt free of her grasp and landed in the middle of the pond among the rushes.
My sister laughed, and told the frog that it was of no consequence. She no longer had a use for him. She also told him that he would have more company very soon. I did not like the way she said so, and pressed myself further against the tree as I continued my watch. I noticed that she now clasped the dagger in her right hand. Its tip was now stained with what I could only assume was the frog’s blood. She raised the dagger over her head, and drew it across her left palm. I suppressed a gag as she held her palm to her lips. She then held the vial to her wrist and allowed the blood to drip from her hand. Once she had filled it, she pressed the flower to her palm. When she pulled it away, there was no indication of what she had just done. She smiled as she tucked the now scarlet bloom into her hair.
She gathered her things and concealed them once more among the folds of her dress. She returned to the brambles and exited the way she came. Once again, the brambles closed behind her and she did not turn back as she made her way back to her room.
Watch this space for the REST of the story!

RagDoll posted at 10:58 PM

|