Tiny Story Time: Mataoka’s & Navimie’s Friday Fished-Up Fables: Vareesa

“Please stamp on the coin, sir, just as I have written it here: Asto’re da shan’re. Turus Fulo II’amare, A’Talah Adore. Isera’duna…” Vereesa used both her hands as paperweights on the scroll, to show the goblin coin-maker the words. He nodded. “I see,” he grumbled. Vereesa paid the engraver a large sack of gold she took from Rhonin’s coffers. This wish came with a heavy cost. Goblins like their money a little dirty, and dried blood remained on many of the coins. Turning a sack of gold into one copper coin was not a fair trade, but she was told his magic was guaranteed. As for her lost sisters: there was nothing she could do. She resorted to the blood magic, thinking that if she wished for honor, for peace, surely the gods would grant these wishes. They were selfless desires, not vain. But she had forgotten to scrub out the last line, the one about the green ones…to wish death brought bad luck. The goblin saw the words, and believed she was wishing death on goblins. He miscast her name intentionally, for if the gods can’t find the right soul, the wish will not come true. Vereesa lost her way, too, and the gods never found her wish.




The mysteries of misspellings.

Navimie’s Ansirem

Tiny Story Time: The Minions’ Ball

Ah, of course…from my favorite site…

Inspired by Christina Rosetti’s poem, The Goblin Market (but nothing like it whatsoever)

The Minions’ Ball

not quite after midnight
the robes dusted and preened
ruby-red lips drooling blood-stained juices
for kissing of the queen

the minions gather round the warren
beneath the Slaughtered Lamb
to dance against the sideboards
on rough beaten wood, with a sleight of hand

she will meet them in the market
she will meet them in the stalls
she will meet them on the gallows’ drop
and meet them in kings’ halls

they dance with her as she pleases,
and waltz while the cello moans
she calls the tune, they bow to her
resentful love grumbles, and groans

the imp skips a sprightly jig
the succubus feigns mild interest
the felguard acts the wallflower
the arabesque voidwalker, dishonest

the doomguard has a cameo
his appearance is short lived
but while he pirouettes
he’s chopped off a few heads

she will meet them in the market
she will meet them in the stalls
she will meet them on the gallow’s drop
and meet them in kings’ halls

if you listen closely
you can hear squeals of pleasure
so many partners to choose from
and they serve her at her leisure

but none of them stay till dawn
they can’t pay the piper’s fee
they won’t meet her in sunlight
and leave so quietly

the only place, and caution
of which you must beware
is the minions’ ball round midnight
take heed, and take care

don’t go to the dance if asked
for surely you won’t want to leave
feet will bleed and backs will break
leeched souls are cleaved

she will meet them in the market
she will meet them in the stalls
she will meet them on the gallows’ drop
and meet them in kings’ halls

she’s going to the dance tonight
dancing at the minions’ ball