Solstice Song (WoE week 50)

Write at the Merge seems particularly festive this week, challenging us with the word Sparkle and the song Sleigh Ride as performed by John Williams and the Boston Pops Orchestra.

I couldn't help but think of Sticky-Tagger and his pixie friends. I've been away from them too long, me thinks.


I offer the following in response: Solstice Song

“Sticky, it’s winter!” Glowing, Sellamina twirled beneath the falling snow. Her wings shimmered in the pale triumph of the waxing sun.

“It’s still too slushy,” Sticky held out a disappointing handful of wet, white sludge. “It’s close, but it’s not ready yet.”

Sellamina drifted towards his perch. “Can't you feel it?”

Sticky closed his eyes and listened to the hush of their woods, hoping to hear the hum. Gone were the familiar sounds of the woodland creatures as most of them hid in the warmth of their dens. Snow dampened the song of the world. Even the trees refused to break the morning calm with their chatter. He opened his eyes and sighed. “No. Not yet.”

She sat beside him on the branch and wrapped her golden wings about them, sharing their warmth. She stifled a yawn. “I know we stayed up all night waiting, but I’m still too excited to sleep.”

“Do you think it’ll come from the north this year?” He knew the answer, but the question came from habit.

“It always comes from the north,” his sister breathed, huddling closer.

Sleigh bells chimed several miles away, a mere whisper tickling Sticky’s ear from that distance. His mind wandered. He remembered those bells with laughter and the spiced, heady vapors of mulled cider and wine. Humans were predictable, arriving with the snows and collecting white berries in bunches. “Sella, why do you think humans collect mistly-toes?”

“Ug, you had to ruin it,” Sellamina growled beside him. “Can’t we just once not speak of humans and their stupid rituals?”

“Okay.” Sticky frowned, racking his thoughts. With his recent Fetcher training, he’d become quite adept at collecting roasted chestnuts from human kitcheries. It was his new favorite food. Well, favorite nut. Punkin pie crumbs and that wiggly food that was colored and transparent like gemstones but melted into soup in his mouth were his favorites. Oh, and the sweet and sticky corn…his tummy rumbled. “But you don’t think they eat the berries do you?”

“I don’t think so. Wouldn’t it be poisonous?”

“Well, someday, I’m gonna find out,” Sticky said. “You know what else humans do?”

“Sticky.”

“They bring trees into their homes and dress them up.”

“What, whole trees?” Sticky caught her sideways glance as she leaned forward. Her mouth crinkled to one side. “That makes no more sense than the mistly-toes.”

Goosiepimples climbed up Sticky’s arm as the breeze shifted. It came from the north and stirred the crystalline drifts of the woodland floor. The ground sparkled bright with energy.

“Ooh." Sellamina squeaked and jumped to her feet, fluttering her wings. “Sticky, it’s here!”

Sticky forgot his hunger, his lack of sleep, and the chill that seeped into his skin. As the first magic of winter kissed his face, he drank it in, feeling raw bliss swell around his heart. The drowsy woods sparked to life and hummed, sweet and low, and eternity was once again possible.

And with that, my dearest readers, I wish you a very magical season overflowing with wonder and merriment.

Podgy-Warble (WoE #11 Bubble & City Hall Challenge)

Reporting from Write at the Merge week 11, we are provided two pictures for our inspiration. One is of the New Town Hall in Hanover, Germany with the lights on the facade for a charming display of evening colors. The other is of the perfect bubble suspended over a Norwegian valley at sunrise.

I was so captivated by the picture of the bubble that I didn't even think about the Town Hall. I found the picture simply breathtaking, the sort of picture I which I could take but never will because I won't ever have the right camera or software. Not to mention, I'm still a five-year-old around bubbles.

I was at Disney's California Adventure once when a cast member was using one of those bubble guns in the Hollywood section. "Look, fairy farts!" I exclaimed.

The cast member doubled-over, giggling incessantly with snorts and squeaks. I pronounced myself a winner.

That story shared, I believe you will see that I absolutely had to return to Sticky's world for this prompt. Sticky just learned of his destiny, but he's conflicted about what that means, and now all his friends are involved.

I offer the following in response: Introducing Podgy-Warble

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Pocker scratched his head as they gathered seeds in the farmer's meadow, “why is being a Fetcher a bad thing?”

Sellamina shot Pocker her withers-butterflies look and Sticky cringed instinctively. “Secrets are secrets, Pocker!” she hissed.

“Yeah but it’s not like he’d be lying or anything.” Pocker said in defense. “We keep secrets from all kinds of things, like other clans, humans, even squirrels.”

“Those secrets are different.” Sella gestured emphatically. “Those secrets are about protection.”

“Can we think about maybe heading back?” Sticky interrupted, pointing eastward. “The sun’s coming up.”

Sellamina continued as if she hadn’t heard him, her voice pitching in passion and her wings darkening with her mood. Lily appeared openly confused by the argument. “What do I think?” she whispered.

Sticky shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen Sellamina and Pocker this at odds before.”

Topple materialized in the toadstool beside them. “You know what I don’t understand, is why the Seeress chose you as the new Fetcher to begin with. You can’t Fetch without us. Not to mention your camyflaging skills are sorely lacking.”

Sticky made a face, insulted, “They are not! I’m just not obsessed with looking like a toadstool.”

Lily groaned, “You two aren’t going to start fighting, are you?”

He didn’t feel like apologizing, but Lily made a point. The rising sun meant they would all be exposed soon. Inhaling slowly, he grumbled, “Sorry, Topple, you’re right.”

The fight between Sellamina and Pocker grew steadily louder, another threat that would need resolved for their protection. The sun would coax the balinogs from their dens for warmth and the amphibians would not resist a potential snack of pixies. Then Topple would never let them hear the end of it, his I-told-you-sos haunting them for the whole of the season.

Sticky turned away in frustration and was instantly taken in by an unfamiliar sight. A perfect sphere, full of the swirling colors of dawn clouds, drifted in mid-air. He flew into the eye of the argument to get their attention. “Stop, what’s that!”

The quintet watched the sphere float, awestruck. “Must we bring it back to the Seeress?” Lily-fathri whispered, her wings quivering like she was about to explode. “Or can I keep it? I want to pet it and name it Podgy-warble.”

The sphere did a curious thing then: it audibly popped, disappearing.

Sticky tasted soap on the breeze. “No!” Lily screamed, frantic tears pooling in her almond eyes, “Podgy-warble’s dead!”

Pocker flew to her, wrapping protective arms around her. “Shh, it’s okay Sweet-pea,” he whispered, but Sticky could tell Pocker didn’t have a clue if it would ever be okay again. Podgy-warble was gone and there was nothing left for them to plant in reverence. Lily shook and sobbed until they all had tears.

Sellamina pointed a shaky finger over grass, “Stars, look!”

An army of Podgy-warbles floated above them, each a perfect sphere of swirling color. Lily wiped her eyes and cooed.

Sticky's Destiny (WoE #9 Snowfall/Secret Challenge)

Write at the Merge gave us a snowfall and a revealed secret.

I'm happy to return to Sticky's world. I stumbled across a direction I wanted to take him and his friends and this challenge was an excellent starting point. We last met Sticky and crew pulling off the perfect chocolate caper for the Seeress.

I offer the following in response: Sticky's Destiny

Sticky dragged the satchel of chocolate bells through the Well, “Seeress! I’m back!”

“I know. The Pearl showed me.” The Seeress unfolded herself from the acorn throne gracefully, extending her silvery wings to their fullest length. They showed her age in the delicate patterning of iridescence and size at mantle. In truth, Sticky knew of no one who could remember when she was a hatchling.

He straightened, remembering his sister’s warning not to slouch. “Sellamina insisted I tell you. I, well my friends and me, we ate one.”

Her almond-shaped eyes reflected light like the obsidian glass of the Pearl. “One?”

He chewed his lower lip. “Maybe two? But it’s not our fault,” he added quickly. “The metallic skin peeled off.”

Her laughter chimed in the vacant chamber. She waived him over, excited. “Sticky-tagger, your fetching skills are improving just as I hoped. You’re almost ready.”

He passed her the handle of his satchel. “Ready for what, Seeress?”

“To join the Fetchers.” She withdrew a silver bell from the sack and cradled it lovingly in her arms.

“Me? A Fetcher?” Pride swelled his heart so he thought he’d burst. A Seer’s Fetcher carried great respect and honor in the clans, and there were only ten Fetchers in the Sundial clan.

“Yes, Sticky. I believe you would make an excellent Fetcher someday.” A solemn expression drove her smile away as she returned the chocolate to the bag. “But I must warn you: Fetching is a very serious and dangerous occupation. While it is a critical function for the Well, it carries with it the burden of secrets and responsibilities. Not all Fetchings are glorious. Some tasks will be boring, tedious chores, but they must be done and done well and promptly when assigned.”

“I can do that,” he agreed eagerly. “I can keep secrets for the Well.”

“Even from,” her tone was sly, conspiring, “your sister?”

Sticky never kept a secret from his sister before. He tried once, but Sellamina shot him her withers-butterflies-look and that was that. He scratched his head. “Would I have to? Really?”

“For her safety, you might.” The Seeress looked through him and his skin crawled. “Oh, Sticky-tagger, my favorite-born of the Trin, it would bring me the greatest joy imaginable to keep you sheltered from the ills of the world. If only I could spin you another cocoon, one that could forever protect you, to shield you from your future, your destiny. That would be magic unheard of for a millennia.”

Destiny? Future? Suddenly, becoming a Fetcher was at the bottom of the list of things he wanted to do. “I don’t think I understand Seeress.”

“Your destiny was foretold to me by the Pearl. But it’s a matter for another time, when you’re ready.” Sticky wanted to ask further, but the Pearl seemed to awaken at its name. The Seeress peered into the glow. “Ah, delightful! The weather is changing again. We’ll have snow yet.”

Week Four: WoE Friends and a Heart Challenge

Write at the Merge this week gave us a picture of a brick-paved heart and my favorite quote from Groucho Marx:

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying 'Damn, that was fun!'"

I return to the hijinks of Sticky and his friends and their quest for chocolate, the result of the last week's link up.

I offer the following in response: Operation: Chocolate

A full moon smiled from atop the midnight sky, and stars kept their silent vigil over the world below. Sticky pressed against the windowpane of the farmhouse he frequently visited. His friends mirrored him, eager faces squished to peer inside. “This is where I found the secret figerie pie,” he explained, his whisper fogging the glass. “The farmer lady is sure to have chocolate.”

“What’s a chocolate anyway?” Pocker asked as he wedged himself between Topple and Lily-fathri.

“The Seeress showed me," Sticky replied. "It’s brown and lumpy, or black and smooth, or even sometimes, it’s so scared it turns white.”

Topple peeled away from the window and crossed his arms. “Aw, I never get to see the Seeress use the Pearl. That’s not fair. You get in trouble all the time and yet you get to see her use the Pearl.”

Uh-oh. If he feels slighted, he’ll use all his flight energies on camouflage to be stubborn and he’ll get us caught. Sticky thought, exchanging glances with his sister.

Sellamina didn’t hesitate. “Topple, the Seeress thinks you’re far too important, keeping watch for balinogs.”

“Oh,” he said, relaxing. “That makes sense.”

“Let’s go find some chocolate.” Sticky focused his desire for the window to open, magic surging through his heart. When enough energy was collected, he tapped the glass and the window opened a crack.

They crawled across the sill, mindful to avoid anything that could snag their wings, leaving a trail of foot and hand prints in the fine layer of dust. A poof of magic escaped Lily, dampening her silvery shimmer, and all the dust and prints disappeared from the surface. “Well, it needed cleaning,” she stated when she caught their looks. “And we shouldn’t leave tracks behind anyway.”

“Yeah or the balinogs could find us.” Topple agreed, causing a tired sigh from Sellamina.

Sticky shrugged and pointed towards a jar at the far end of the room. “I think that’s where the chocolate is.”

They flew single-file through the airspace to the cold granite countertop. Bright, metallic bobbles glittered inside the jar. With a bit of convincing, Topple helped Sticky and Pocker pool their energies to open the lid. The hiss of a vacuum destroyed pushed a bloom of nutty sweetness into the air. Sticky understood in one sniff why the Seeress was so keen to have one. He salivated instantly, “Ooh, it’s edible.”

“They look like little bells. Do all chocolates look like little bells?” Lily breathed.

Pocker looked just as awestruck. “Are they called chocolate because they’re made of chalk?”

Topple frowned, “Chalk never smelled like that.”

Sticky attempted to haul a bell out by its white paper string, but halfway through the effort, the metallic wrapper unraveled and the chocolate fell to the countertop. “Chalk never looked like that,” he said.

Sellamina bit into the brown lump and glowed. No trace of balinog poisoning remained in her skin, and she shimmered brighter than Sticky remembered. “And chalk never tasted like that!”

Week 3: WoE Gossamer & Affinity Challenge

Write at the Merge this week gives us two words for inspiration - Gossamer and Affinity - which we can use within our 500 word count or not.

Both these words screamed Sticky and friends to me, so I'm returning to the pixies' world.


I offer the following in response: Summoned to Seer's Well

“You’ve got something on your chin,” Sellamina licked her thumb to wipe the smudge away.

Sticky pushed her away gently before rubbing his cheek. “Sella, stop. I’ll do it.”

Lily and Pocker exchanged troubled glances. “What does Seeress want to see you for this time? What did you do?” Pocker asked.

“I didn’t do nothing,” Sticky replied with less conviction than he felt, his stomach in knots.

Sellamina folded her arms, the shimmer gone from her skin. While her health was improving daily, her energies still suffered from the effects of balinog poisoning. Sticky knew she’d be irritated with him if she could just summon the effort. Instead, worry pooled in her eyes and she sniffed. “Well, even if you did do something to offend her, Sticky, I’m sure she’ll understand that you didn’t mean it.”

It wasn’t the first time Sticky had been summoned to Seer’s Well, nor was it even the fifth. The last time, though, the Seeress made it known that he was dangerously close to being shunned. A shunned, clan-less pixie was certainly a dead one. Facing exile from his sister, his friends, and his beloved woods scared him more than facing down a balinog. His lower lip trembled, “I’ll miss you most, Sella.”

Tears slipped from her eyes. “Oh stop. There’s no need to be dramatic,” she chided, wiping the dampness from her cheeks.

“Sticky-tagger?” the cricketer chirped from the curtained thicket. “The Seeress is ready.”

Friends piled on him, engulfing him in a winged circle of hugs that threatened to keep him in his place. He managed to wrap his arm around his sister, cradling her close. “I-I have to go, now,” he forced the words through the lump in his throat, and the circle dissolved around him.

Timid and alone, Sticky struggled to keep pace behind the cricketer. Seer’s Well was at the end of a narrow shaft and buried in the earth a million seasons ago. In the center of the grand chamber lay the Pearl, the obsidian-black vessel the Seeress used to divine pasts and predict futures. Cricketers and clan-elders would fill the cavernous space on celebration days, packed in so tight there wasn’t room for wings to move. This day though, the Well was unoccupied, save for the Seeress perched on her throne of acorns behind the Pearl.

“Come, Sticky-tagger, come.” The Seeress stretched out a welcoming hand, her silvery gossamer-wings glistened with honeydew. “Let us not stand on ceremony.”

Obedient, Sticky hastened to her side and blurted out his fears, “Seeress, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She looked confused, “Sorry for what?”

Sticky sniffed, “For whatever it was I did that I'm being shunned for?”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling merrily. “Oh, child, I’m not shunning you. I was going to ask you for a favor.”

“Oh?” Sticky asked, hope returning to his heart.

“Yes, you’ve an affinity for all things human,” she leaned closer to whisper, “I was wondering if you might fetch me a bit of chocolate.”