Prompt: “They said Spring died, but I found her blossoms hidden deep within these snow-drenched pines and conifers.” Created by Lydia Jane.
They said Spring died, but I found her blossoms hidden deep within these snow-drenched pines and conifers.
She lay on the ground, eyes closed, chest rising subtly as she breathed. Fragrant wind buffeted ice-kissed sprigs of lavender that caressed her face. Tears pooled in my eyes.
Home. She was home.
“Persephone,” I whispered. “Love.” With trembling hands, I reached for her cheek, pale from so many months in the underworld, bruised from her husband’s cruel hands.
Persephone’s eyes opened as she gasped. She jerked upward, and our foreheads nearly collided. Her violet eyes settled on me, growing wet with realization. “Mama?”
We fell into a desperate embrace, while our tears spilled like waterfalls onto the snowy grass. As the crystalline drops hit the ground, more flowers began to spark and grow.
“I—I was so scared,” Persephone sobbed. “I thought he’d kill me if it meant he could keep me. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Nothing could keep me from you, dear heart,” I murmured, stroking her dark hair. “Not even Hades’ obsession.”
“He’ll come,” she said. “He said he’d never let me go—”
“And he’ll never catch me unaware again,” I said. “If he ever lays another finger on you, your sisters and I will send him packing back to the Underworld as a resident, not king.”
Persephone sagged against me, as if months of anxiety were slowly draining away. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, dear heart.”
As I kissed her forehead, the birds started to sing for the first time since Persephone’s abduction, and my daughter gave a shaky laugh—a beautiful, perfect sound.
Prompt: “Tucked snugly in a ring of toadstools lay the most delicate flower crown.” Created by Lydia Jane.
A most delicate flower crown sat upon the fair head of a young princess of the fae. She hid, tucked snugly in a ring of toadstools, from humans and stared off into the distance, dreaming about what honorable deed she would complete to earn her wings when a terrible screech broke through the morning quiet.
She raced from the safety of the toadstools in the direction of the screech, ready to swing her sword against a mighty foe, but alas, the owner of the screech was a chicken.
The princess skidded to a halt. Blood dripped from the end of a chicken’s toe caught in a trap.
She chewed her lip, unsure if being in the open to free the chicken was a worthy risk, then crossed to it. She found a sturdy stick and forced the jagged-mouthed-trap open. The freed chicken squawked, and the princess tended to its injured toe.
A moment later, her back tingled and she reached, ready to alleviate a developing itch, only for her fingers to collide with a silken substance. She glanced over her shoulder to discover the most beautiful pair of wings adorning her back.
