A Tale of the Navel/The Shadow Forest: Stupid Customs

On March 28, 2018, P.T. Wyant posted for her Wednesday Words prompt a brightly colored egg, a new hat, and a parade.

This Tale of the Navel/The Shadow Forest happened, or rather a Tale of Omphalos. It's another story that could easily have happened during my third novel (currently under revision) in the series, A Godling for Your Thoughts?

“Ooo, look at that feather!” Danyel stood on his tip toes, straining to see the cap with the feather, jauntily making its way through the crowds of villagers. 

Tayel blinked at the sight of its wearer. 

“Meggie,” he mumured, staring in shock at the familar, round flushed face, surrounded by russet curls. Nothing else was recognizable about her. 

Gone was her dumpy awkwardness, hidden behind skirts and heavy tunics. She’d traded them in for a brown trousers and a bright blue vest, a striking contrast to Maggie’s brown and green. 

 The sisters balled their hands on their lips, grinning with roguish confidence at everyone in sight. Arm and arm, they danced their way through the parade, sometimes stopping to circle each other in an impromptu dance. 

Everyone made way, whistling, clapping and cheering for Maggie and Meggie, who’d take off their cap and wave them, only to collect a coin or two from passers by. 

Ashleigh, the twins’s mother, followed them behind, whooping. Gone was her own cap sporting a feather. Instead, she wore a broad brimmed hat covered with feather and beads which appeared to be new. 

“Ridiculous.” The scornful word sliced through the cheerful, festive mood of the crowd, reducing everything to absurdity. 

Danyel flinched before he could stop himself. 

Tayel glowered out of the corner of his eye at Thomas, not bothering to waste a direct glance upon him. “No one asked you.”

Thomas fidged with a brightly painted egg he carried in his hand. “This whole festival is stupid. Why are we bothering carrying on the traditions of the outside world? We’re no longer part of it.”

“What’s that?” Danyel’s curiousity got the better of his desire to ignore Thomas. The egg had varying shades of pink ringed around it. Tiny silver and golden sequins were attached to its shell. 

“Another ridiculous custom associated with this ridiculous holiday.” Thomas scowled at the object he carried. “Decorating eggs, hiding them, and having other people try to find them.” 

Without warning, he hurled the egg at Danyel’s face. 

Danyel tried to catch it, but the speed and violence of Thomas’s throw did its damage. The egg hit Danyel’s hand, its shell cracking. It bounced off Danyel’s palm like a rubbery ball to fall to his feet. 

Thomas let out a snort of laughter. “I suppose that was a little bit fun.”

Danyel stared at the egg, which lay in yellow chunks amidst bits of silver and golden. He was grabbed by an unsuspecting merrymaker, whom whirled him around, crushing the egg under his booted feet. 

Danyel was dropped and abandoned in the middle of the crowd. He stared at his twin with wide, glistening eyes, glancing at the yellow mush left in the wake of the stomper. His lower lip trembled.

“How exactly was that fun?” He whirled to confront Thomas, hands balled into fists. “Don’t you enjoy anything other than hurting or destorying things?”

“Aww, are you feeling sorry for a hardboiled egg, Danyel?” Thomas sneered. “You’re such a girl!”

“And you’re a brute and a fool,” Tayel put as much measured venom as he could in his words, drawing Thomas’s attention away from his twin. “Throw as many rocks or eggs as you like. It won’t make you anything more than that.” 

Thomas’s lower lip trembled. He raised a meaty fist, pulled it back. 

Tayel willed the unearthy light, coursing within him, to stare through his eyes at this pitiful creature. Go ahead and hit me. Anything you hurl at me will strike you back, leaving me unharmed. 

“Come on, Tayel.” His twin took his arm, leading Tayel away into the crowd, leaving Thomas to his temper and smashed egg.