The Vorpal Tribble
2006-10-13, 11:05 PM
Tale of the Indigo Rose
http://my.photosleeve.com/TheVorpalTribble-albums/album03/aed.jpg
Almond eyes of a blue so deep as to be purple peeked out from behind the trunk of a large oak, followed by dark blonde tresses with green highlights that rippled nearly to the ground. In the clearing, sitting amongst the ferns was young boy, his shoulders shaking in sobs. She had been watching him stumble about through the growth for hours, obviously lost, and heading only deeper within, but she was wary to show herself to him.
Her concern grew though as he leaned over and fell into a tearful sleep of weariness. Her heart grew troubled however, for where he lie now she knew however would soon be visited by the dangerous redcaps whom passed through daily. He would be shown little mercy she thought to herself and finally moved towards him.
'He'll be sorry alright when I don't come back', the eight year old thought to himself peevishly as he lay half-asleep, 'I'll become an old hermit and never ever be found. Tell me what to do will he...'
He tensed though as something cast a shadow over him. All brave intentions fled from his mind and he very much wished his father was here despite the boy's angered thoughts. He twisted around, scrambling to his feet, but though prepared to run or grab a stick to fight he was unprepared for what he saw. The nymph had garbed herself in some leafy muskadines, having heard that humans covered themselves, but she was still far and away the most beautiful woman he had seen. His father being a wealthy man and having invited many a radiant woman into his household, they all paled before her. Despite his young years he was entranced.
"Felilialo!" she urged in some strange language, and grabbed his unresisting hand. Together they ran through the woods. He did not question why, merely kept glancing up to look at her. As the woods thinned she saw the spacious summer home where she had seen the boy playing some weeks before.
She released his hand and prepared to dash back into the thicket but he held tight to her hand, looking up at her wonderously. The nymph couldn't help but smile and she gave him a kiss on the forehead. His grip momentarily loosened in surprise and she hurried away.
Each year when the boy returned he would go out into the woods, purposely loosing himself, and eventually she would come and find him. For the first few years she scolded him in her own tongue and quickly dropped him off, but she eventually realized that he had long since learned the woods by heart. They began to take long walks in the wood and she would show him sights of the forest few mortals would ever find. He eventually learned her language and they would have long talks, though he tended more to listen.
Though she never seemed to grow a moment older he soon advanced past childhood. His father had been dead for years and he had since taken over his father's profitable businesses. Those he did business with would have been shocked by his behavior in the woods, knowing him only for his shrewd, almost cold-blooded behavior. Harsh words or a sneering politeness was all they had ever encountered. Those who were closest to him however knew how very charming he could be if it was in persuit of something he wished dearly. And he got what he wished dearly.
The nymph had long grown used to humans and was no longer shy of their presence. She came to visit the old manor often in the summer. He had had built a dressing room on the edge of the woods where she could change into the comfortable robes he had put there. There he said he would return her favors of the knowledge of the forest with that of civilization. Dancing and music, the arts, to those looking in they would think him the most attentive and doting of fellows. However, as he watched her a cold gleam was in his eye that would have been instantly noticed by his competitors... those that still lived that was.
The nymph was at first hesitant of this lifeless, sterile place, but eventually she came to enjoy her visits, the dancing upon marble. Though she had not known it, her heart had opened to this strange human boy who had long ago become a man. Thus when he asked her to come away with him to this strange place he called a city, she was greatly torn. It was in the silence of her indecision that a robin alighted the windowsill of the common room and sang.
"I would my Tucker, but I cannot leave this. The song of the robin thrills me more than any instrument. Dancing upon the hard stone, no matter its beauty cannot compare to the leaf underfoot and the wind in my hair."; she said, looking at him tenderly. "Leaving it would kill me."
His smile faded and he stood, walking behind her. She felt hard nails grip her shoulds as he whispered, "Perhaps you would reconsider."
"Tucker, don't claw me!" she cried in surprise. "Let me go!"
"Let you go? My dear, you will never be released again. You think leaving would kill you? Within your drinks I have been serving you a little concotion of my own. Come along with me or you will surely die without its antidote. I do hope you will reconsider your..." he began, his voice full of smug assurity but then his eyes widened.
Though the nymph had been alluring beyond mortal kind before, she became a creature than many would have thrown themselves down to and worshipped. It didn't stop there though, he felt his vision fading and soon all became dark. With the sound of torn fabric and rapid footsteps he stumbled forward.
"What have you done?" he shouted as he grasped the doorframe. "You will pay dearly for that, nymph. You can run, but you'll be back! YOU'LL BE BACK!"
She would rather die she told herself as she ran, diving into the bushes and along familiar paths no human would notice. The heartache of finding out what that boy had become and whom she had given her heart to though was only matched by the headache that began that night. A relentless, driving pain it quickly became until she could do little more than curl in agony amongst the mosses. The agony confused her mind and her resolve warn worn away hour by hour. After nearly three days of pure agony she pulled herself to the front door of the large house before collapsing.
When she came to she found herself sitting in a wagon opposite him, filled with dizziness which was the only reminder of the pain she had suffered. Though blinded, he wore a knowing, satisfied expression on a face she had somehow once seen as comely.
Indigo, as she was named, was dressed in the finest clothing and fairly paraded about wherever Lord Tucker Vepres IV went. His blindness brought sympathy, his mistress, attention and jealousy. The gardens on his estate were increased in size and only here could she find a modicum of solace. But no matter where she would run amongst the too-civilized growth she would eventually meet up against the surrounding wall. She had thoughts of escape, and through charm and skill she had managed to find the drug to which she had been given and its counter agent, her Lord was far too crafty. Drugs, poisons, and other horrible maladies were given her and then the cure without her knowledge. In this way she could never be sure what bound her and what had already been cured.
Though she was allowed to explore the city, to her senses it was a place so dead it was as a black desert. Gems took the place of flowers, buildings became her trees and the animals with once she had frolicked and petted and loved had been replaced with society's beasts.
She was a beautiful bird in a cage of gold. A cage that would forever hold her, released only now and against to dance and sing upon her master's finger.
Despite her neverending, flawless beauty his interest eventually waned over the years and she was banished from the household, to live amongst the garden or the wilds of the alleys. He continued her drugging merely as a cruel diversion. She wept as much from anger as sorrow as the meager crack in the stone upon which she had lived was paved over.
They never found her when she disapeared many days later, having crawled until she bled from the cruel thorns of an enormous thicket of roses left wild and unchecked in a rarely visited corner of the garden. In the thickest part she lay until the multiple toxins within her had taken their toll, she too numbed to care about the pain it caused. As she felt the last bit of life begin to drain she reached up to one of the blossoms and drank deeply of its aroma. She smiled with all the innocence and joy she had once possessed, an expression that had not come to her for longer than she could remember. She then went limp with the perfume within her nostrils. The rose still held in her hand deepened in color, shading to a shadowy bluish-purple. Within moments every blossom across the thicket had become indigo, and the dew upon them the color of blood.
-=-=-=-=-
To his credit, Lord Vepres felt a brief pang of sorrow at her absence, which could mean nothing but death. It was a selfish melancholy however, filled with the memories of his youth, which soon faded.
New woman were admitted into his home, and if they did not wish to come willingly they were blackmailed, coerced, or in a number of cases, treated to the same methods as Indigo. As these girls would come they would be awoken by a sweet scent in the air and a voice whispering on the wind. Those that followed the voice came to the beautiful bushes of blossoming indigo roses. There the voice would speak of things that caused anger to rise within their hearts. The voice would then promise them justice and a chance to strike back against this vile noble. Invariably they agreed...
Blinded, the noble failed to notice that each of his mistresses gained a strange purple shadowing above each eye. An alluring scent clung to each one that in the presence of which he found himself unable to resist the women's wiles.
Several weeks later a scream echoed across the estate of the Lord's manner, awakening his staff and the neighbors. It went on for some time.
The body was eventually found in many pieces, spread out across the strange rose thicket, slashed to shreds and then scattered.
From then on strange shadows were to be seen coming and going amongst the grounds. The manor was sold, but the owners soon left in fright from the strange happenings about it. Eventually it was abandoned and left to disrepair. The roses however continued to grow in size. Strangely enough they avoided all of the other plants, allowing them to grow, but constructed things were covered and eventually cracked and mangled.
To this day a sweet, wensome scent hangs about the place, though not so strongly as the unnerving sense of menace...
http://my.photosleeve.com/TheVorpalTribble-albums/album03/aed.jpg
Almond eyes of a blue so deep as to be purple peeked out from behind the trunk of a large oak, followed by dark blonde tresses with green highlights that rippled nearly to the ground. In the clearing, sitting amongst the ferns was young boy, his shoulders shaking in sobs. She had been watching him stumble about through the growth for hours, obviously lost, and heading only deeper within, but she was wary to show herself to him.
Her concern grew though as he leaned over and fell into a tearful sleep of weariness. Her heart grew troubled however, for where he lie now she knew however would soon be visited by the dangerous redcaps whom passed through daily. He would be shown little mercy she thought to herself and finally moved towards him.
'He'll be sorry alright when I don't come back', the eight year old thought to himself peevishly as he lay half-asleep, 'I'll become an old hermit and never ever be found. Tell me what to do will he...'
He tensed though as something cast a shadow over him. All brave intentions fled from his mind and he very much wished his father was here despite the boy's angered thoughts. He twisted around, scrambling to his feet, but though prepared to run or grab a stick to fight he was unprepared for what he saw. The nymph had garbed herself in some leafy muskadines, having heard that humans covered themselves, but she was still far and away the most beautiful woman he had seen. His father being a wealthy man and having invited many a radiant woman into his household, they all paled before her. Despite his young years he was entranced.
"Felilialo!" she urged in some strange language, and grabbed his unresisting hand. Together they ran through the woods. He did not question why, merely kept glancing up to look at her. As the woods thinned she saw the spacious summer home where she had seen the boy playing some weeks before.
She released his hand and prepared to dash back into the thicket but he held tight to her hand, looking up at her wonderously. The nymph couldn't help but smile and she gave him a kiss on the forehead. His grip momentarily loosened in surprise and she hurried away.
Each year when the boy returned he would go out into the woods, purposely loosing himself, and eventually she would come and find him. For the first few years she scolded him in her own tongue and quickly dropped him off, but she eventually realized that he had long since learned the woods by heart. They began to take long walks in the wood and she would show him sights of the forest few mortals would ever find. He eventually learned her language and they would have long talks, though he tended more to listen.
Though she never seemed to grow a moment older he soon advanced past childhood. His father had been dead for years and he had since taken over his father's profitable businesses. Those he did business with would have been shocked by his behavior in the woods, knowing him only for his shrewd, almost cold-blooded behavior. Harsh words or a sneering politeness was all they had ever encountered. Those who were closest to him however knew how very charming he could be if it was in persuit of something he wished dearly. And he got what he wished dearly.
The nymph had long grown used to humans and was no longer shy of their presence. She came to visit the old manor often in the summer. He had had built a dressing room on the edge of the woods where she could change into the comfortable robes he had put there. There he said he would return her favors of the knowledge of the forest with that of civilization. Dancing and music, the arts, to those looking in they would think him the most attentive and doting of fellows. However, as he watched her a cold gleam was in his eye that would have been instantly noticed by his competitors... those that still lived that was.
The nymph was at first hesitant of this lifeless, sterile place, but eventually she came to enjoy her visits, the dancing upon marble. Though she had not known it, her heart had opened to this strange human boy who had long ago become a man. Thus when he asked her to come away with him to this strange place he called a city, she was greatly torn. It was in the silence of her indecision that a robin alighted the windowsill of the common room and sang.
"I would my Tucker, but I cannot leave this. The song of the robin thrills me more than any instrument. Dancing upon the hard stone, no matter its beauty cannot compare to the leaf underfoot and the wind in my hair."; she said, looking at him tenderly. "Leaving it would kill me."
His smile faded and he stood, walking behind her. She felt hard nails grip her shoulds as he whispered, "Perhaps you would reconsider."
"Tucker, don't claw me!" she cried in surprise. "Let me go!"
"Let you go? My dear, you will never be released again. You think leaving would kill you? Within your drinks I have been serving you a little concotion of my own. Come along with me or you will surely die without its antidote. I do hope you will reconsider your..." he began, his voice full of smug assurity but then his eyes widened.
Though the nymph had been alluring beyond mortal kind before, she became a creature than many would have thrown themselves down to and worshipped. It didn't stop there though, he felt his vision fading and soon all became dark. With the sound of torn fabric and rapid footsteps he stumbled forward.
"What have you done?" he shouted as he grasped the doorframe. "You will pay dearly for that, nymph. You can run, but you'll be back! YOU'LL BE BACK!"
She would rather die she told herself as she ran, diving into the bushes and along familiar paths no human would notice. The heartache of finding out what that boy had become and whom she had given her heart to though was only matched by the headache that began that night. A relentless, driving pain it quickly became until she could do little more than curl in agony amongst the mosses. The agony confused her mind and her resolve warn worn away hour by hour. After nearly three days of pure agony she pulled herself to the front door of the large house before collapsing.
When she came to she found herself sitting in a wagon opposite him, filled with dizziness which was the only reminder of the pain she had suffered. Though blinded, he wore a knowing, satisfied expression on a face she had somehow once seen as comely.
Indigo, as she was named, was dressed in the finest clothing and fairly paraded about wherever Lord Tucker Vepres IV went. His blindness brought sympathy, his mistress, attention and jealousy. The gardens on his estate were increased in size and only here could she find a modicum of solace. But no matter where she would run amongst the too-civilized growth she would eventually meet up against the surrounding wall. She had thoughts of escape, and through charm and skill she had managed to find the drug to which she had been given and its counter agent, her Lord was far too crafty. Drugs, poisons, and other horrible maladies were given her and then the cure without her knowledge. In this way she could never be sure what bound her and what had already been cured.
Though she was allowed to explore the city, to her senses it was a place so dead it was as a black desert. Gems took the place of flowers, buildings became her trees and the animals with once she had frolicked and petted and loved had been replaced with society's beasts.
She was a beautiful bird in a cage of gold. A cage that would forever hold her, released only now and against to dance and sing upon her master's finger.
Despite her neverending, flawless beauty his interest eventually waned over the years and she was banished from the household, to live amongst the garden or the wilds of the alleys. He continued her drugging merely as a cruel diversion. She wept as much from anger as sorrow as the meager crack in the stone upon which she had lived was paved over.
They never found her when she disapeared many days later, having crawled until she bled from the cruel thorns of an enormous thicket of roses left wild and unchecked in a rarely visited corner of the garden. In the thickest part she lay until the multiple toxins within her had taken their toll, she too numbed to care about the pain it caused. As she felt the last bit of life begin to drain she reached up to one of the blossoms and drank deeply of its aroma. She smiled with all the innocence and joy she had once possessed, an expression that had not come to her for longer than she could remember. She then went limp with the perfume within her nostrils. The rose still held in her hand deepened in color, shading to a shadowy bluish-purple. Within moments every blossom across the thicket had become indigo, and the dew upon them the color of blood.
-=-=-=-=-
To his credit, Lord Vepres felt a brief pang of sorrow at her absence, which could mean nothing but death. It was a selfish melancholy however, filled with the memories of his youth, which soon faded.
New woman were admitted into his home, and if they did not wish to come willingly they were blackmailed, coerced, or in a number of cases, treated to the same methods as Indigo. As these girls would come they would be awoken by a sweet scent in the air and a voice whispering on the wind. Those that followed the voice came to the beautiful bushes of blossoming indigo roses. There the voice would speak of things that caused anger to rise within their hearts. The voice would then promise them justice and a chance to strike back against this vile noble. Invariably they agreed...
Blinded, the noble failed to notice that each of his mistresses gained a strange purple shadowing above each eye. An alluring scent clung to each one that in the presence of which he found himself unable to resist the women's wiles.
Several weeks later a scream echoed across the estate of the Lord's manner, awakening his staff and the neighbors. It went on for some time.
The body was eventually found in many pieces, spread out across the strange rose thicket, slashed to shreds and then scattered.
From then on strange shadows were to be seen coming and going amongst the grounds. The manor was sold, but the owners soon left in fright from the strange happenings about it. Eventually it was abandoned and left to disrepair. The roses however continued to grow in size. Strangely enough they avoided all of the other plants, allowing them to grow, but constructed things were covered and eventually cracked and mangled.
To this day a sweet, wensome scent hangs about the place, though not so strongly as the unnerving sense of menace...