Rumpelstiltskin - Chapter EightChapter 8Rumpelstiltskin - Chapter Eight by Narryaque
Rumpelstiltskin, Rebecca and Rune made their way back toward Rebecca’s cottage. There, Rebecca called for Raoul the wolf, and Rune and Rumpelstiltskin watched as she said her goodbyes.
They had agreed that it was safer to travel together, and Rebecca had decided that if she were to leave her part of the wood, she would let Raoul free; it was also for Raoul to choose to travel with them or not, if he were to follow Rebecca, if even at a distance.
As Rebecca petted and spoke to her red-haired wolf, Rumpelstiltskin saw Rune press her hand to her chest. None of them had wounds left over from the blade the devil had used on them. Rumpelstiltskin had taken the blade back, but it made sure to keep it in its sheath at all times, just in case.
As they stood and watched the little girl, Rumpelstiltskin said softly, “So…you were touched by the devil too…”
Rune did not reply.
Rune glanced at him.
“It’s… It sui
Heartpiecesi have a mask of happiness that i try to sew onto my face. i lie to myself especially. i keep looking up toward the sun while the darkness is ever at my back; i dare not look over my shoulder.Heartpieces by Narryaque
little specs of light, specs of happiness, i find in things like phases. sunbeams, and all passing as the clouds pass over the sun. i step into every beam and soak it up as much as i can, and then i move on to the next beam. maybe i find specs of myself in thier light.
the sunlight hides my tears.
my dreams are crushed, broken. do i pick up the pieces? i've stopped my life.
im holding onto constants. in the ever-changing river, it runs faster than i can keep up; i'm holding tight to something of my own: an imaginary friend. I hold onto it for my dear life, my dear sanity.
My own heart. Myself. My best parts of myself. I love these parts of myself. I hold onto this, and these constances as i ride down the flow of life; because life rides me. i don't swim. i don't resist anymore. i only grab ahold
Narryaque: Pronounced, “nar-y-ock” [nair-ee-ock] rhymes with “marry lock.” Meaning from lost language: “Storyteller; to recall and tell i.e.: kiss and tell; raconteur; narrator.” Lost Language definition: “Word Sage.”|
~From my story, The Storyteller of Atrox Nox
I like to think of myself as magical. I'm crazy for top hats, I have a magician complex, and I write fantasy books (not published yet).
"If God gives you something you can do, why in God's name wouldn't you do it?" ~Stephen King