Bran sat down at the river’s edge.  He picked up a small stone and tossed it in, without paying attention to where it went or the splash it made.

Why did Drest always treat him so rotten?  It wasn’t fair.

As Bran sat, staring at nothing on the outside, every slight the older boy had ever given him, real or imagined, came up. 

A deep heat rose from the iciness.  He’d show him!  Why, the next time they met, he’d take care of that bully.

Bran didn’t notice his teeth gritting nor his breathing becoming heavier and ragged.  He didn’t realize that his fists were clenched nor that his face was red.

Images of what he’d do with Drest flashed through his mind.  They began to swallow all other thought.  With the violent, angry thoughts, came darkness.  All light was blocked by the mental fog.

“Mommy, look, a fairy door!”

“Yes, Timmy, someone was very clever putting that so high up and yet so highly visible from the path.  Now let’s go.”

“Not someone, a fairy…”

“Sure, Timmy, a fairy…”

Twinkles left her hiding spot after the humans were out of sight.  She inspected the door.

Sure enough, someone had put a spell on it so the humans could see. 

Not knowing what else she could do, she went over to visit Glower, the sour fairy, to ask his advice.  Much to her shock, his door was visible as well!

I came to the top of the little bluff and froze for a second before instinct kicked in.  Had I been seen?  I allowed myself a quick peak at the fisherman.  He was concentrating on his fly and hadn’t turned my direction, not even flinched. I was sure I hadn’t been noticed.

It had been months since there had been any pursuit.  Even the dogs were worthless when I didn’t want to be found. 

On the other hand, just because there was no active search didn’t mean they weren’t still looking for me.  My guess is that I’d either have to figure out how to resurface with a completely new identity or spend the rest of my life out here, on the run.

I loved the wilderness, so no hurry in finding that identity.

And I loved this little patch of relatively still water, a hidden spot far from the casual person’s eyes, the perfect little private trout “pond”.

Photo by Sue Vincent

“How have you been doing during the lockdown?”

“Not bad, not bad.  It’s a good thing we are all readers!”

“Even Chad?  I can’t picture a 17-year-old being content to reading all day.”

“Oh, yes, he happily stays locked in his room, book in hand.”

“Really.  What does he read?”

“Fantasy, I think.”

“Fantasy? A modern 17-year-old boy?”

“Yes.  When I was a kid, I couldn’t put down a book if there were dwarves or elves in it.  Anything even slightly medieval and magical, from Merlin’s Britain to Prydain to Middle Earth to Earthsea, I read them all.  I think Chad is really into it, which is great, though I have to say, I haven’t heard of any of these modern authors.”

“Hmmm.  Have you read any of the books, these so called fantasies of his?”

“Well, no, but I’m sure he said ‘Fantasy’, so I know I’m safe. Here, he accidentally left this downstairs.  I’ll open it randomly and show you by reading a few lines.”

“Fine.”

“Let’s see, page 82, ‘Claudio continued to climb the steps of the castle’s tower, gaining strength with each footfall. He could make out the lush, fertile valley through the occasional window, the moist dew dripping off of the wine-yielding grape vines, and the rounded, forest covered hills just a little farther from the little villa. A mist played over the forbidding lake, though not enough to cover the sensual curve of  Maiden’s Isle.’  Sounds right.  I like the name Claudio.”

“It sounds Italian, not Middle Earth… And some of the language, uhm.  Continue reading.”

“OK, where was I?  ‘Heart pounding in his chest like a war drum, Claudio finally arrived on the top floor. A window stood open allowing the fragrant breeze to tousle his long, chestnut hair, though it did little to cool his sinewy, pulsating muscles. The one door at the top of the tower was closed. Claudio took a confident step towards the closed door, walking like a well oiled machine. It was locked.  He flung himself into it, shoulder first. Nothing.  He took two more steps back, and readied himself for the onslaught, every muscle of his strong, masculine body tensing. But then, a soft word was heard from within, and the door silently slid open with a whiff of perfume.  He didn’t know what destiny had in store for him, yet the feminine scent portended good fortune.  He stopped just inside of the doorway, his rock-hard muscles glistening in the sweat of his effort. Princess Morgan was on the bed, covered only in a translucent silk. He could see the naked form of her body, guess at the treasures hidden beneath. Princess Morgan waved a hand, inviting the daring knight forward. Her hungry eyes devoured him. “Quick, Claudio, before they find you,” she said in a husky voice. He took three large steps towards the bed, shedding his leather armor and armament as he strode towards the princess.  “Yes, my lady.” She smiled and threw the sheet off, revealing her ivory skin.  Claudio feasted his eyes in delight on the soft curves. He raised his weapon of love as his gaze landed on her uncovered…’ Chad! Get you butt down here now!! And I mean now, Mister! Move it!”

“Yep, just what I thought, a fantasy.  Got to go. Bye!”

***

This was written for Sue Vincent’s writephoto challenge.  The photo at the top is Sue’s and she gave a key word, Fantasy.