16 yr old girl from Sydney, bisexual, lover of writing, nature and mythology :)

"A story. This was the key to immortality. The things that made kings quiver and deities distrustful: nothing but a tale" - Crown of Wishes

Message from Writer

Obsessed with books and probably spends too much time in fictional worlds.
I love mythology, ancient history, the sky and tea. And of course writing, I hope everyone likes it :)
My inspiration mainly comes from nature and the people around me.

The Little Queen

June 12, 2019

The water could have been mistaken for obsidian, if it weren't for the splattering rain that hit its surface, exposing its fragility.  Mud is thick and sility in the girl’s mouth as she surfaces once more, shattering the lake further and gasping in the rain choked evening like a frog. Ahead, in the centre of the great lake, the memory of a castle rises from the dark water. Crumbling walls and mossy turrets, a broken giant trapped in slumber. Her small feet finally find its edge, sharp rocks bite into bare soles as she climbs a staircase long ago eaten by the lake. With slippers of blood adorning her feet, she wanders the echoing halls, the lord and ladies have been replaced by wandering swans. Pattering rain, a distant chorus of thunder and dragonfly song, the music of this forgotten kingdom. And behind it all, weaving through the melodies, is another sound, as sweet and sharp as birdsong but heartachingly mournful. The half drowned girl could make out a few words, whispers seeming to come from everywhere.
“The little queen has come to her throne,
A gown of lake water adorns her
We have waited and watched
For this time to come
And now our wait is over”
Followed by the soft flutters of moths, she walks towards the song, driven by her aching belly and parched throat. A group of cranes sleep in a broken fireplace, long twig legs and feathers the colour of morning fog. They shake themselves awake as she passes and prance behind her as she climbs a damp, winding staircase.
“A crown of twigs, a throne of moss
She has come to her kingdom at last,
For this court of swans and toads and moths
Their darkness shall now pass”
She comes to the highest room, it crumbles into the open sky and the remains of a great mossy throne sits against another wall. Outside, the swollen clouds bleed like watercolour, dripping their grey onto the dark green world below. A strange woman is close to the edge, so close her toes are hanging over, and her mouth is open in song.
“Fair woman, are you ok?”, the girl’s voice comes out as a croak, frog like again.
The woman, her skin almost translucent, cuts off her song and turns around. The silver storm light shines through her like foggy glass. The breath catches in the girl’s throat.
“I am quite well my little queen, for you have arrived” the woman’s voice was the whisper of a river under ice, deep and clear. “Tell me why you are here”.
“Well I...I saw stone, I needed to get away from the rain” the girl answers timidly.
The woman walks closer, eyes as dark and sunken as the lake.
“No, little queen, why are you here?” she asks again, but now the girl knows the answer.
“They were taking me south to marry, I didn't think it would happen until at least my 14th summer but… I had no choice, he is a lord and I am a lady, it is my duty, but I ran from the carriage...” her voice fades, weak and tired.
“What about being a queen?” the woman asks. Somehow, she has made it to her side without a sound, the hem of her torn dress forming dark puddles on the floor. “My darling, you can be queen of an entire kingdom, just as I was so long ago”.
The girl frowns, “A whole kingdom?”
A smile crawls up the woman’s pale face, splitting it like lightning cuts through stone.
“You won’t ever have to go back, my little queen, no one can find you here and you can run and swim and dance as much as you want. No more old sweaty men who will force children into you, no more sitting on silk pillows until you die, don't you want that?”
The girl, tears welling in her eyes, nods slowly.
“Come dance with me milady, these halls are yours.” The woman takes her hands and spins her around the room like a leaf in the wind. Behind them, the rain turns black and furious, churning the lake into an ocean and hammering the dark walls of the castle. As the storm descends, the girl is spun to the edge of the room, to the gaping hole. She flings out her arms to stop herself falling from the tower.
“What are you doing?” her voice sharp and high through the growing thunder.
“Join us, there’s nothing left for you, you cannot even rule your own body, your own life, here you are queen!” the deep voice shouts from behind her. The girl takes a breath, imagining the life that awaits her back home and edges closer, hands slipping on the walls and hair flying wildly around her like the rain darkened branches of a willow.  Below, the black water crashes and churns and calls to her. Icy hands are on her back, ready to push, but they never have to, the girl has made her choice, the first choice she’s ever made for herself.
Shards of glittering blackness explode from the water as it swallows her. It ripples for a while before gathering itself and smoothing out into a seamless sheet of obsidian once again. The rumbling sky above follows the lake below and fades to a sheet of dark silver.
The world suddenly returns to its stillness, pattered by gentle rain.

Many years later, travellers lost from the forest road would come across a stone castle in a lake. A haunting song would carry on the wings of the wind. They would push through the reeds and look through fallen walls to see a glimmer of pale light, almost in the shape of a girl, dancing through the forgotten halls. Legs still aching, they would turn and leave, but the song would stay in their heads. Those long beautiful notes joined by the never ending whisper of rain and dragonfly hum.



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  • June 12, 2019 - 11:52pm (Now Viewing)

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