The Wishing Map 47

Wishing pix-Title-(framed)

Note: To read The Wishing Map from the beginning, click here.

The Wishing Map

Chapter Eleven: …and Found (Continued)

Previously: The vengeful pixie princess Feyrdú trapped Gina in a cave and revealed her intention to kill her!

⇔ ⇔ ⇔

“Rest assured. It will be an honorable death,” the tiny but demented creature assured Gina. I will torture you and marvel at the way you laugh in the face of pain. Then the minstrels will set your tale to music and—”

“Torture? Feyrdú, you don’t have to do this! You really don’t!”

“I do. The only way Prince Jenblevó will ever forget you is if you are dead.”

“But he’s totally not my type! And totally not my height!”

“That does not matter to my Lord Blevy. In his eyes—and in mine—he is taller than an irontree…” Feyrdú’s voice trailed off, lost in the depths of the dripping cavern. “We came to this cave when…”

“Go on! I really really want to hear this!”

“…when we were still children. My woman bumps had not even formed yet, and Prince Blevy’s—”

“Right. Got it! So, you came to this cave because…?”

“Because of the rain. A cloud shepherd smiled on us that day.” Feyrdú’s eyes began to moisten. “We were collecting rowan root when—”

“When the rain came…”

“And we ran into this glorious cave. Seesquee and Heesnog were younglings, not as beautiful as they are now, but so adorable…” She stroked the two gleaming monstrosities. “They saw us shivering, and made blankets of silver thread to keep us warm.”

“How romantic…ish.”

“We looked at the cave stars for hours.”

For the first time Gina noticed the glittering flora on the ceiling. The phosphorescent shapes really did look like stars—except that they were moving.

“Blevy told me his dreams, and I told him mine. He said he would fulfill his name even before he was king.”

“And his name means?”

“’Tower of Courage.’” Feyrdú’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “And my name means ‘Beside Him.’ We vowed that day that before all else we would help one another fulfill our name prophecies. I knew then that his name had already come true and that I would always stand beside him. So, you see, my Lord Blevy is taller than an irontree. He always has been.”

“I totally agree!”

“You agree?” Feyrdú drew a dagger from her belt.

“I mean I agree for you! I mean I agree that he’s like ninety feet tall just for you. He’s your tall Prince Blevy, not mine. I mean, phhhht! To me, he’s, what, just another pixie guy, you know, and—”

“You disPARage the NOble JenblevÓ?” Feyrdú said, punctuating each word with a stab to Gina’s cheek.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! No, no, no, no! I mean he’s awesome…ly perfect…for you! Which is why you belong with him!”

Feyrdú abandoned her reverie and turned to the task at hand: “I ask the Lady J’nah to forgive me for boring her with tales of love.”

“Oh, no! I love tales of love. In fact—”

“I knew the Dragonmeer of Frenga would wish to die a warrior’s death with blood on her garments and a sword in her hand.”

“Well, actually—”

“But there was a chance I might fail—and lose my Lord Blevy! I could not bear it. I loathe myself for being girlish and infirm!” She stabbed herself in the leg.

Gina screamed. Feyrdú didn’t. In fact, she seemed to find comfort in the pain.

“Please don’t do that! Hey, hey, hey, tell you what—how ‘bout I be girlish and infirm with you! And then—”

“This is why I cravenly asked my friends to bind your hands and feet while the spider-sleep was upon you, and now, though you will hate me for not allowing you to fight me to the death—”

“That’s OK. Really.”

“I will ask Seesquee and Heesnog to kiss you here and here.” Feyrdú touched Gina on each of her eyelids.

“Kiss?”

“There will be very little pain when the stingers first touch the windows of your eyes, but as they press deeper you will experience exquisite suffering. I will instruct my friends to move slowly so that you may endure a true warrior’s torment, but once the poison journeys to your brain…”

“Brain?!”

“…you will feel nothing. You will also, unfortunately, be unable to curse or scream vows of vengeance. For this I also ask the Dragonmeer’s forgiveness.”

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! This is totally not happening!” Gina’s mind ran in a thousand directions: she didn’t want to die…she wanted to say goodbye to Momandad…she resented never having had a chance to fall in love…

And then inspiration struck. “Feyrdú, I have to confess my sins!”

“Sins?”

“Yeah. You know, to get right with Uol.”

The pixie princess thought about this for a moment. “It is a righteous request. Your soul must go unburdened before the Creator of All. Speak…and I will listen.”

“Well, this could take a while…” Gina screwed her courage to the sticking post and began: “’In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell…’”

 ⇔ ⇔ ⇔

Thoughts: Has something you value, perhaps even your life, ever been threatened by a misunderstanding you couldn’t correct?

To read The Wishing Map 48, click here!

Wishing pix-Map

About mitchteemley

Writer, Filmmaker, Humorist, Thinker-about-stuffer
This entry was posted in Story Power, The Wishing Map and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Wishing Map 47

  1. Pingback: The Wishing Map 46 | Mitch Teemley

  2. mitchteemley says:

    Reblogged this on Mitch Teemley and commented:

    Has something you value, perhaps even your life, ever been threatened by a misunderstanding you couldn’t correct?
    (P.S. This is one of my favorite Wishing Map episodes.)

    Like

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