Tuesday, August 13, 2013

A Hare's Tale: The Blade of Highleaf (Chapter 3)

So, I've been trying to find inspiration for my writing, which of course turns out to be boredom to take a hold of my mind. Seemingly mundane chapter in the story actually introduces you to a majority of the characters that are to be an integral part of the story as it continues (Spoiler alert: Squirrels)! I hope you enjoy this new chapter in The Blade of Highleaf story as it begins to grow and morph, taking new shape and new life before finally taking a hold of the world it was created for! Read, enjoy, and don't forget to share with people you think might enjoy!



As the sun began to peek up over the hillock in the East, stretching it's warmth across the land as it caressed the eyes of the sleeping, rousing them ever so gently. In this manner so to was Agatha roused as she quietly washed her face in a small ceramic bowl that sat next to her bed, the frigid, cold water splashed against her face by cupped hands shocked her into a state of immediate alertness. The earth around her had barely begun to heat up before she put on a rather loose fitting dress and then grabbed a leather corset that she had hidden deep away in her wardrobe. She giggled as she looked at the hardened leather, noting that it had more than once saved her from being torn apart when moving through the thicker thorn-brush along the river. With a sharp intake of breath she quickly went about tying the constrictive, borderline torturous device about her midsection. Glancing over to her mirror she could only smile at how great she looked. The dress was a deep shade of blue, the likes of which were more likely to be found on the petals of Blue Anemones than on a dress, and the light-tan shade of the leather corset accented the blue making Agatha look as though she were a much softer creature to behold.

Her paw snatched up her wooden comb and brushed back her raven colored hair with a smirk, dressing her usually flowing locks into a long ponytail that ran down her shoulder blades and ended at the middle of her back. She almost couldn't help but giggle at the thought of going through all this trouble to look presentable for children. Agatha quickly checked her look one last time in the mirror before climbing up the short staircase and into the dining room. It was still early, Agnar would not be up for a few hours more, but still the slumbering snores of Agnar's sleeping form as he lay in his arm chair did not surprise Agatha in the slightest. She quietly moved about the kitchen and larder, preparing a breakfast for her father and herself, a simple meal of oats, dried fruit, and of course a glorious selection of apples that she had picked just the other day. With a quick, breath of thanks to Lady Nature, Agatha quickly feasted, washed her bowl, then set out to preparing the same courtesy for her father, including setting out a cup of his medicine before sneaking out of the house without a noticeable stir from Agnar.

The street running in front of the Oakeye's Oak tree was hardly awake as only a handful of shopkeepers and others moved about this early in the morning. The sights and smells of life seeped into Agatha's nostrils as she began her slow stroll to the mayor's house on the other side of town. Her hands folded in front of her as she walked through the small town of Highleaf. The main street of Highleaf was actually a portion of The King's Highway, though it had formerly been dubbed The Long Walk (and to many residents of the township it still retained it's old name), the street ran North to South between the town's center, crossing the river and then moving into the woods that surrounded the small village. On the East side of The King's Highway was the Baker's Shop run by Mr. and Mrs. Poplar and their son, Darwin, the Eldermanes ran the Carpenter shop right next to that, and then there was the Town Hall and Pub, Agatha had only been in there a few times when her father had to help give advice to the rest of the town, but only knew that it was the permanent home of the town drunk: Simon. On the West side of The King's Highway was the Cobbler, Mr. Tammers, the general store owned by Mr. Applewood and his daughter Heather, the dress shop next to that owned by Alyssa and Melody Rainer, and in the center of the town stood the Jailhouse, Sheriff Barkhide's pride and joy.

The early morning sun caressed Agatha's face and gave her a bright smile as she slowly strode by the buildings and over the bridge marking the edge of the town's central point and moving into the outskirts. She continued walking for only a short while before she finally saw the tall roof of Mayor Middleton's mansion. While it was a sight to behold within Highleaf, many people had thought it garish attempt at showing off what little wealth the town had by building a Mayoral manor, yet the two-story palace was still built, and it's only rival in town was the Town Hall, and that was only thanks to the fact that the Town Hall also served as Inn, Pub, Meeting Place, and Dance Hall. The Mayor's mansion however was unlike any other building in town, for one, it was entirely built out of cut wood, and it had no attachment with the land around it. In example, the Oakeyes' Oak tree is in fact, a still living, breathing, and very much growing tree. In fact, it continues to grow every season and every season Agnar must trim the ceiling up to a comfortable height with a plane and ax. Agatha gazed at the white painted walls of the mansion as the full structure came into view and gave a heavy sigh, she could already see the outline of Lady Middleton staring out of the dining room window at her arrival on the thin winding pathway leading to the front door. As Agatha reached the door it swung open and she was greeted by the slender, annoyed, and heavily made-up face of Lady Middleton.

“You are late, Miss Oakeyes, I specific-ally remember you telling MAYOR Middleton that you would arrive – and I quote 'right as the sun is in the sky'! Does that sun look 'RIGHT' in the sky?! No! It has almost been there for thir-ty minutes!” Lady Middleton's tone full of fury was ignored entirely by Agatha as she pretended to listen to Lady Middleton's northern accent attempting to stress words and add emphasis to words, but simply sounding as though she were stuttering.

“Yes, Lady Middleton, my apologies,” Agatha coolly spoke, attempting to calm the situation before her anger got the best of her on such a fine morning.

“Apologies?! And what, Miss Oakeyes would you honest-ily have to apologize for? For being late? Then most certain-ily you must apologize! I demand it!”

“My deepest apologies, Mrs. Middle--”

“Lady! I was the daughter of a Lord, I earned my title!”

“Lady Middleton, again, my apologies...” Agatha barely managed to hiss through gritting teeth before she continued with an instinctive scathingly sarcastic reply, “I'm sure your father is proud of your accomplishments as a Lady, Lady Middleton.”

There was a strong silence, tangibly awkward animosity between the two women as Mayor Middleton's plump form pushed his slender wife to the side and dispersed the anger, “AH! Agatha! Good morning, good morning to you! Have you had breakfast yet? I was just about to have a nice breakin' of the fast myself and seeing as the children are still all asleep-ing you and I can just have a nice chitty-chat!”

He smiled to Agatha and then turned to see his wife still standing in the doorway next to her husband, glaring angrily at Agatha before he cleared his through, “AHEM! Angelique, would you be a dear, and go make Agatha and I some buttered toast, maybe a bit of those sweet berries from the garden – What were the names of those again? So sweet – had this flavor...”

Lady Middleton turned her icy gaze to her husband now, the look of ultimate hatred flowing through her body and out her eyes directed straight towards Mayor Middleton as she answered him, “Scarlet Berries, you buffoon. I've told you a million times, they are scarlet berries, and every time you...”

Mayor Middleton took Agatha's hand in his and pulled her inside, ignoring what his wife had to say as he invitingly begged Agatha to come in, “Come in! Come in! We'll have scarlet berries and toast – how does that sound to you, Agatha?”

Agatha simply smiled to Mayor Middleton and nodded her head as she answered him, “I already ate, but as the kids are still asleep, I suppose there would be no harm in a cup of tea and a few 'scarlet berries'.”
The Middleton residence was actually quite well furnished for only having four people living in it, Agatha could barely count on her fingers alone how many paintings she saw in the main hall alone, moving from one room to another greeted her with a new experience of shock from the sheer value of the furniture that looked unused. Mayor Middleton did not seem interested in any of this as he continued to clutch her paw and lead her past the dining room and into the kitchen. The kitchen itself was a marvelous sight, easily twice the size of Agatha's main room at home, the sight of silver dishware and iron pots and pans adorning the walls and shelves almost sent Agatha into an overwhelmed stupor of awe. The only thing to break Agatha's anxious desire to examine the riches she had found was the clap of Mayor Middleton's hands in front of her eyes, “Agatha~! Wake up! Sit, eat, and enjoy.”

Mayor Middleton then gestured to a table sitting on the other side of the kitchen which seemed to serve as a table for the small family, each chair in this room looked well-worn and full of more spirit than the others she had seen. Agatha nodded and took her seat in one of the chairs, feeling the familiar contours of extensive use etched into the seat, and she instantly knew that this was the true dining room. Her fingers intertwined themselves as she laid them on the table and waited for Mayor Middleton to finish drinking his tea that was steadily pouring steam out into the air just above the soft brown liquid. Her soft brown eyes smiling as the Mayor looked up and flashed her a large toothy smile, “Now, Agatha, remember what I told you last night. Naturally, I know you will do well with the children, but I must ask that you be careful and patient with them.”

Lady Middleton seemed to be puttering about the kitchen in the background, apparently regreting or even muttering curses at her husbands decision to let Agatha in the house at all, but she stayed quiet for the most part, offering no words of protest as Mayor Middleton offered Agatha a cup of tea. The early morning cup of tea was soothing as Agatha placed her lips to the finely crafted ceramic cup. The taste of Jasmine swirled around her tongue as the soft hint of honey and cinnamon splashed against her taste buds. It was seldom that Agatha was able to enjoy anything quite as delicious as what she had just tasted, only ever to afford nothing more than honey or cinnamon for baking rather than to waste in a cup of tea. She simply returned the smile that Mayor Middleton seemed to be displaying quite eagerly. She wondered why he was smiling even with his wife so obviously angry with him, but cast the thought aside as her ears perked up to hear the thunder of something falling from upstairs.

After a long moment, Mayor Middleton cleared his voice, “A-Agatha, dear, I know we had promised that you would teach my children to protect themselves, but... Ummm... There is one slight problem, you see... Well, ummm yes, well...”

Agatha giggled as she shook her head at Mayor Middleton's stammering, “Come now, Mayor Middleton, please, anything you have to say will not affect our agreement.”

“Errrr... Well, Agatha, I will say this as plainly as I can. Some of the other parents about Highleaf heard of your... Our arrangement and asked if their children could be included. Logically, I could not say 'no' to them, so... The children will be arriving...”

Mayor Middleton's voice was cut off as a loud knock came at the front door and some tiny, squeaking shouts came from the other side of the wooden walls and portal. Agatha's eyes grew wide as she imagined having to train an army of small children, all whimpering, crying, teasing, fighting, and yelling at, over, and about one another. Her chest tightened against the already tight corset and her breathing grew quick, but nothing prepared her for what she saw as she heard Mayor Middleton's voice pick up from a low mumble to an enthusiastic tone of authority, “Well! That must surely be our little ones!”
Mayor Middleton stood and as he did, so did Agatha as they both proceeded towards the front door, the squeaking voices grew louder and louder as Mayor Middleton turned the door handle and pulled the door inwards, opening the house to the crowd of small children that piled into the door.

A herd of assorted creatures, from mice to toads, squirrels to beavers, and even a young otter came waltzing into the grand hall of the Mayoral mansion, all talking at the same time as their parents politely bowed to Mayor Middleton and asked to come in. Mayor Middleton of course accepted the request with a large smile and led in much larger versions of the children. Agatha smiled at everyone as they entered, noting the people she had come to know from around town: Firstly, the Danberry's son, Evan, a rather portly young rabbit that took after his father more than his slender mother, although he were only about five years old, Evan was already as big as Mayor Middleton. Then there were the Elmworth twins, Adam and Ada, identical twin hares who almost no one could tell apart except their mother, the difference between them being the color of their eyes, Adam's being a soft gray, Ada's however were a soft blue. Then there was the LaCroix family's son, Edward, a rather short toad who had one of the most rambunctious and adventurous personalities for a toad. The Eldermanes brothers, Magli and Mogli, a pair of beavers whose most peculiar difference was that Magli was twice as strong and half as intelligent as his brother, Mogli. The Nobel's daughter, Sarah, one of the cutest young bunnies one might ever see this deep in the country-side. The young daughter of Mr and Mrs Lightfoot, Elizabeth was one of the older children there at the age of fourteen, her raven black hair hung low tucked behind her large ears. And last but not least was the Quickpaw's son, Newton, if ever there were a sneaky, sly, and devious young weasel, Newton would be it, and more than likely is as he takes after his father, Davis Quickpaw, the town drunk.

As the children filed in, so did Jack and Jane Middleton as they descended the stairs, rubbing sleep from their eyes as they stepped into the grand hall, only barely noticing the crowd of people in their house and giving a wide-eyed look of surprise to see Agatha Oakeyes standing in front of them with a pleased look on her face. Agatha could only imagine what might have been going through their minds at that very moment as she flashed them a warm smile to further provoke their confused thoughts.

The children all introduced themselves one at a time with a bow or a curtsy and one unappreciative wave to Agatha as she nodded to each of them approvingly, but as each child finished introducing themselves, their parents quickly absconded from the house and went about their own business save for one last little boy and his father. Oddly enough, Mr. Arthur Blacktail was the only one of the parents who waited to see the children begin their training, even as his own son, Peter Blacktail, clutched onto his father's bushy black furred tail. One thing about squirrels that Agatha had come to notice as that they have a certain unfaltering loyalty, and this trait was displayedin full form within their own family as Mr. Blacktail turned to his son and smiled, “Come now, Peter, ya've gotta tell the lady what yer name is.

Peter's face hid itself in his own tail as he softly muttered something that only his father heard, the older squirrel simply laughed at his son's remark before patting him on the head, reassuring the boy one last time as he spoke softly to him, “Now, lad, ya've gotta tell Miss Agatha yer name, and don't ya worry about where yer pop will be, because he's gonna watch yer first lesson before he goes offta work.”

With this bit of knowledge Peter seemed a bit more comfortable talking to the strangers in the room, in a rather soft yet resonant voice, Peter Blacktail introduced himself, despite still clutching his tail with jittery paws, “Mah name's Peter Blacktail, Miss Agatha.”


Agatha could only smile to the children as she gave them all a low bow and then righted herself, “I am Agatha Oakeyes, and I will teach you how to defend yourselves.”

Saturday, August 3, 2013

World Shaker

So, I missed my chance to post a blog post last week as I was busy with being lazy, so, in an effort I purposed myself to write the love letter of an old man to his wife. I don't much know how great it will turn out, but nonetheless it's a bit of work. Enjoy!



“You used to sit there, you used to sit in that very chair and smoke those cigarettes with the hearts on the filter. Smoking them, like you were kissing old lovers once more, like each one would bring you some sort of brief bliss from the squalor we lived in. The spark of your lighter bringing me from my paper to your face, my eyes staring with a sense of contempt before I would flash you the brightest of smiles. My eyes must've given me away quite a few times as I went back to my paper, they were tired eyes, eyes full of memories, eyes longing to forget, eyes longing to go blind to the world that we had created. You'd simply breathe in the carcinogens, holding them in your lungs as your shirt stretched fast against your breasts. I remember how I once lusted for you, once desired your form, once wanted to never stop touching such delicate beauty, once. Ah, but even now I can see that what we had is long gone. What was it you had said to me before? 'Beauty is in the Eyes of the Beholder'? I hardly remember what was said yesterday, it's hard to imagine I could remember something said all those years ago. I could remember seeing that sly smirk tugging at your lips, edging on a smile as you pressed your body to mine, urging me to dance in that old dance hall. My throat was so tight I felt like I would suffocate if I had done more than a waltz, but you opened me up to your devilish charm.

A sweet scent of roses, that was what you always wore, it was muddled behind the smoke, but it was there. Like a feather on a pillow, it was subtle, but it was there. Our first drink, sneaking in through the back of that tavern, my hands fumbling with my wallet while you had already downed every dripping drop of beer in your glass and had proceeded to drink from mine. We laughed as we walked home later, and then you stopped and we kissed in front of an old couple's apartment. They stuck their heads out the window and cheered us on as we giggled and ran off into the night. Your legs were so strong in those days, you ran everywhere, and when you weren't running, you were dancing, or skipping, or standing, or just walking. Anything you did would've made you a princess to strangers. I remember when you broke your ankle, the world crashed as you fell from the front steps, an earth quake happening precisely as you fell would've been insane enough for anyone to believe, but I was there.

You cried the pain was so bad, you cried so much that the blue sky turned an ominous black and the rain began to fall. I remember having to run with you in my arms to the hospital, you stopped crying as you clutched my shirt, but the rain didn't stop. Memories are great things...

Remember that time when you looked into the toy shop? Those children waved at you and we waved back, you smiled and it was as if those children had seen the most glorious thing they would ever see. That is what I see everyday I wake up to you. I remember the very words you said to me, the day you left, “and don't forget to smile, you grumpy bastard.”

The photograph I took turned out brilliantly, you would've been proud of the bowtie and suit I wore. But you couldn't have been. You weren't there to see it. The world seemed to be gloomy the rest of that day. There was even an awkward silence about the city, like everyone had already known what I did not. Now, here you lay, your body interred, your gravestone a simple marble monument, and the worst of it all is that damned cold nipping at my hands. The world is getting dizzy and so I guess it's time already. I've come to lay with you my dear, I've come to be with you in my final moments, because I can hardly bear the thought of being without you, even after all these years.


None of the people that I've met over my lifetime could make the world tremble, could make the clouds move, or make the rain fall. You will always be my world shaker."