In the courtyard…

The cat creature bustled and hustled out of the open window and towards the garden. He overheard a conversation, as he stood on the roof, of a legend that no man’s ear had ever yet heard.

A young woman, dressed daintilly in red and gold, sat talking to her sister about the strangest of tales: a dragonite from afar. He was likely to dismiss this as nonsense from an old wives tale, but Bubba Yee perked his ears nonetheless.

The young woman in the dark crimson gown bent her head, brunette hair falling behind her ears, ever so preciously over her coffee, as she told the tale of the dragonite to her elder sister.

“I have seen it with my own eyes: the Naxos. A blue dragon from the floating continent who has shape shifting ability,” she said.

“Surely you must be joking!” the dark haired companion siad with ribald laughter.

“I would not tell you fairy stories!” the crimson lady said. ” I read it in the Annals of Marginalia Vol. IX part i. The Naxos is a beast who speaks fluent Cosmou, and he can take the form of a sage.”

“… or wiseacre!” she retorted.

“It was he who related the information of Mithrax’s attack repelled by…”

“Who?” she asked.

“An elf that I cannot remember or recall his name,” she said with a puzzled look.

“Speaking of elves, have you been apprised of how our young green friend is getting along?”

“I suppose better than usual since he was manumitted,” she said.

“I’ve heard that he spends all his days trying to master mathematics and poetry,” the dark-haired woman in navy blue said.

“Nonsense. This fellow is trying to become a white mage. I’ve heard his abortive incantations all day, and frankly, I’m sick of them.”

“Back to Naxos,” said the dark-haired woman.

“What do you know of him?”

“His wisdom is at least partially responsible for the prophecy,” she whispered,

adding, “That’s what Daddy doesn’t want you to know.”

“He always told us that Melchior received the prophecy through a red mage disguised as a beggar woman,” she said.

“Papa is always trying to keep us in the dark,” she said.

Another wizard came a-sauntering in with moxie. He mixed drinks often, and had a red nose from frequent drinking.

“I know the beggar woman,” he stated flatly.

“I think you read too many dragonite novels,” she retorted.

“Adam, don’t be silly.”

Adam had a peak-hat with three corners, scarlet as the late afternoon sunset. His face was like flint, and he screwed his eyes up at the two damsels.

Bubba Yee could hardly believe his luck having run into a real wizard. This fellow could possibly grant his wish to anthropomorphize. He listened intently to the conversation.

“You met her?”

“Well, not to say exactly…” he offered.

“I think you have been dreaming,” she said, staring at the hem of her crimson dress.

Leo part ii continued…

He tried not to knock over the altar that his master had set up to an unknown god. The world of gods & goddesses was still quite nebulous to him – what did it have to do with reality? He remained the victim of his vagaries and the poop box where he relieved himself. Sometimes, he got the “cat wackies” and he would run aimlessly up and down the halls. As his green-faced master surveyed batball games in the courtyard, BY would accompany him and sit it his lap as he looked out of the window. After all, the chill of the winter of the month of Icicleness remained in his limited cat brain. Would a treat be offered by his master?

Quietly he realized that his master had to work to earn his bread, although he suspected that much of it was lifted from the refectory. The cat looked quizzically at the table scraps which were his repast. He slanted his eyes towards the detestable meal. No vittles would be eaten tonight. He perched on the window, for night had fallen. The moon was visible through the thick clouds, but the stars were only visible in his imagination. The cat purred as he looked into the darksome night air. Something vast and invisible was there – but he couldn’t say what. Maybe it was a hidden god – the kind that master prayed to in his off hours – but surely no one in Cosmon could fathom it.

Somehow, the table scraps disgusted Bubba Yee. He wanted to feast at the king’s table. But no ordinary housecat could hope for such a meal. The vittles of a typical housecat were dry pellets, which frankly tasted like a sandpaper sandwich. The ambitious cat dreamed of the king’s five course meal – appetizer, insalate verde, proscuitto and melone, entrees of duck and roast goose, and a trifle as a dessert. But these items were beyond the pail of what he could consider – his only comfort was the stroking of his neck by his master, the green-faced elf.

Bubba Yee rubbed up against the boot of his master, who was lost in thought. The candle of thought was burning softly and brightly.

“Cannot find the candle of thought” – E. Vedder


Now that the YA is finished, I’ve started on the next chapter, which is dedicated to my cat Leo.

Gabe’s bedtime story part ii

After many years in Cornellia castle, Poxig was bored of life in the castle. He sat mercilessly trying to read novels by sitting for long periods of time in an uncomfortable chair in order to discipline himself to sit. But as he read, he couldn’t make himself remember what he read. It was not like his early days when he seemed enchanted by his schoolwork. He attempted to read…

Then, it suddenly became to him like a video game that he liked. These “video games” were light shows with different bright colored candles. They flashed blue and green with the magic fire spell that Lakfi had performed in his magic shows. Lakfi became more surly and withdrawn these days. He had hardly talked to him at all.

The cat went back to the mat. He was so cold by the ornate window, with arabesque designs on the sill. He huffed, scratched the side of it where the paint had worn off. There were shredded white, red, and gold curtains where kitty, called BubbaYee (BY), had damaged them. He still couldn’t see clearly because of the eye salve, but the noxious fumes from his owner’s pipe were making them water. But as he curled up, his eyes began to sprinkle with tears. His owner, Poxig, remembered how much he dislike the smoke of his pipe, but he calmly enjoyed the sunshine.

The kitty opened his mouth and yawned.

“I wish that I could swallow sunshine,” he exclaimed in his mind, “I am so hungry that I could die!”

The cat got up off the mat and sauntered over to the green faced giant, as BY called him. The elven warrior stroked the kitty with his ungloved hand. He met the cat with annoyance, because he was working in his study.

The books were piled high, and it looked like his owner was still in school. But he wasn’t. They were all the royal books of the father of King Charles, whose name happened to be Melchior.

BY demurred, then he purred. The green hand stroked the scruff of the cat’s head.

“Blarg…meddido…hapsha!” yelled his companion, who was obviously trying not to reveal that he was performing magic in a strange mix of dark and light magic he called ‘Wuffle’

“Hmm… let’s see,” he muttered as he perused the magic book.

“Wilfo…blinko…bot! Blast!” he exclaimed.

The candles fizzled out.

This is BY in his transformed anthropomorphic self