This Tales of the Navel: The Shadow Forest story was the result. It's about Danyel and Tayel, encountering cider, which they have a harder time drinking than someone else might.
Once again, I ended up with a huge story. I decided to split it in two. Here's the first part...
The contents bubbled with the pot with an angry energy, warning Danyel to keep his distance from the fire. At the same time, the alluring aroma of cinnamon, cloves, and apples drew him closer.
The golden liquid simmered, demanding attention, ready to spill over. Danyel seized Map’s hook hanging on the wall and lifted from the pot from the flames, trying not to tremble, to spill it over.
The fire crackled, deprived of its object.
“Angry tongues may scorch and destroy, yet it may calm if you don’t feed the flames.” Tayel glanced up from the rug he lay upon, right in the middle of a scaled dragon and a rampant unicorn within the pattern, covering the sinister woman with snake-like auburn tresses.
It was a relief not to see her hungry, knowing smile, yet it was disturbing seeing his twin resting upon her. At any moment, she might reach out of the weave and drag Tayel into the depths of the cloth.
Don’t be fanciful. The memory of Map’s repeated admonition rang through his head. You’ll create monsters out of nothing if you do.
“What burns warms, offering protection from the cold whiteness of the day waiting outside.” Tayel glanced in the direction of the round window. Unlike Danyel, he suffered no doubts about being fanciful. Reality and fancy were one and the same for Tayel, judging from the way he spoke.
Perhaps he had a point. Danyel glanced in the direction of the garden, concealed by white mist. Only the tower was visible through the haze, its weathered stone peeking out of the pale curtain. Waiting.
“Yes.” Tayel reacted to Danyel’s thoughts as if his twin spoken out loud. “Mist creeps unseen, delighting in this icy day as much as it does the night.”
“Perhaps the cider will take some of the chill away.” Danyel crept towards the hearth, breathing in the spicy warm scent.
Tayel rose to his feet, stepping on the head of a smirking woman, ah, there she was, hiding in the rug.
The twins both approached the pot with trepidation. Neither Danyel nor Tayel ever ate or drank very much. Only a tiny amount was necessary to satisfy them. Smells, though, they often lived on smells.
Such as this one.
Each boy stopped within reach of the bubbling cider. For a moment, the two of them just stood. Danyel inhaled at the exact same moment Tayel did.
The scent of apples, cinnamon, and close, comforting warmth of the hearth stroked their skin, tickled their nostrils, crept down their throats, and filled their bellies.
Was there any need to drink any of this concoction?
“Don’t just stand there.” Map waddled into the kitchen, offering the solid comfort of her presence to the homey scents. “Get yourself a cup. Cider was meant to be drunk.”
Feeling shy and a little embarassed, Danyel turned toward the cupboard and its chipped, earthenware mugs.
One of them had a slight golden gleam to its sides. Danyel brushed his fingers against the side. Laughter ran in his head, clear and bell-like, thumping against his temples with insistent cheer.
“Was this Ashleigh’s?” Danyel peeked out from beneath his eyelashes, not daring to look directly at Map.
Ashleigh could be a touchy subject for Map. She’d been a missing part of their lives for so long that he and Tayel took her absence for granted. For Ashleigh had departed long before Leiwell showed up. As for the twins, they’d never met her. She simply a household legend, one which continued to haunt Map.
“Call her Mother. Not Ashleigh.” Map’s voice was gruff, yet gentle in its rebuke. “You boys are very like her with your fair hair and your violet blue eyes.”
“May I use Mother’s cup…Mother?” Danyel kept his head bowed, his own manner soft and unchallenging.
“Don’t go giving me titles I haven’t earned. Aye, I’ve tried to be your mother. I doubt I’d measure up to a real one.” Map heaved a sigh, which made her heavy torso quiver. She moved closer to the pot in a swish of skirts and thighs, accompanied by the heavy plot of her feet. Everything about Map was solid, compact. As if she’d squeezed herself into a squat, dense shape rather let herself tower over everyone.
And Map could tower if she chose. She’d coiled her being up, trying to become as thick and efficient as she could, a rock solid woman no one could dislodge.
“Go ahead and drink from her cup.” Map studied the cup in Danyel’s hand, lifting her own callused palm to the level of her eyes. “It’s not like she’s using it. Not right now.”
“Yes, she is.” Danyel put as much conviction into his voice as he could. “We’re part of Ashleigh, Tayel and I. Or we used to be.” It was a small comfort to offer, but the words tasted true on his tongue. “If I use this mug, it’s like a fragment of Ashleigh is.”
Map dropped her eyes to the floor. A tremour ran through her frame.
“Idiot.” Tayel’s thought slapped the inside of his head in reproval. *It’s not the same thing. Not to Map.*
Maybe not. The lines on their mother face’s eased. She allowed a smile to ease the wrinkles around her mouth into something less mournful.
“Aye, there’s some truth to that.” Map nodded and waved in the direction of the pot. “Drink for her as well as yourself.”
A difficult request to grant. Danyel was seldom able to drink very much. How could finish Ashleigh’s portion as well as his own?
He’d just have to. Wouldn’t he?
Resolute, Danyel advanced on the pot, mug in hand.
Tayel fixed bright eyes upon, watching his every move. Expecting him to fail. Expecting him to be delicate to drink that much liquid.
Danyel would show him. He lifted the ladle, pouring some of the golden liquid into Ashleigh’s vessel. Steam rose up to his nostrils, delivering the scent of apple, cloves, and cinnamon.
He didn’t need to drink anything. This was enough.
No. He was doing this in Ashleigh’s place, not just for himself.
He took a tiny sip. His tongue burned with the taste.
“Go on.” Raw hope glistened in Map’s eyes, roughening her voice. “Drink some more.” Her hands trembled. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” He’d had a sip. He didn’t want any more.
Map, however, wanted him to drink more. Badly.
Danyel swallowed a much larger amount. This time it scorched his throat, even as the sweetness overpowered his mouth.
He started coughing, trying to hold the mug steady in his hand.
Ooh, interesting concept. Wish I could subsist on aromas! Be well and Happy Writing!
ReplyDeleteThank you! It came to me as a way a character that could be very different from me (I'm obsessed with food and have been overweight for much of my life :)), transforming into a quality which distinguished the shadows and halflings (half human beings) from regular humans in that they feed on intangible things rather than solid food. Thanks for stopping by! Happy Writing to you as well!
ReplyDelete