Username:
Password:
Activate Account Forgot Password?
Advanced Search
Active Players on Sylestia
Category Total Yesterday
Players 4,462 686
Sylestia Pet Data
Category Total Yesterday
Pets 6,346,079 2,579
Generated 471,468 191
Captured 969,397 952
Bred 4,905,214 1,436
Statistics updated daily at midnight
Forum Index > Other Fiction > Short Stories
Page 1  
Author Thread Post
Fififace
Level 64
Scout
Joined: 11/10/2017
Threads: 7
Posts: 250
Posted: 11/15/2020 at 2:36 AM Post #1



Hi there! I'm Fauna, a nymph that lives in the deep woods of Sylestia! I'm a story-teller for my tribe of people, but I've come across a problem! I can't think of any more stories to tell the children! Will you help me out by writing your own so that I can show the kids new and exciting adventures from outside of our forest? I'd appreciate it! Here are the rules.

Fauna pulls out a dusty old scroll, and, coughing, she unrolls it and reads it out loud.

Stories must be reasonably short; 3-10 paragraphs in one post.
If you like someone's post, feel free to continue it, but the rule above still applies.
There must be no inappropriate language, stories, etc.
No mean or hateful comments.
You may write multiple stories or comments.
Be as creative or weird as you like.
You can write scary stories, but not too scary for some of our more sensitive readers.
Feel free to generate a picture of a character in your story and add it to your post.


Fauna grins and takes a deep breath.

Let the story-telling begin!
Edited By Fififace on 4/27/2021 at 12:24 PM.
Fififace
Level 64
Scout
Joined: 11/10/2017
Threads: 7
Posts: 250
Posted: 11/15/2020 at 2:57 AM Post #2
Liz yawned and got out of bed, stretching her legs and yawning again. It was a snowy afternoon- her mother would let her stay home today. But she knew that she would have to clean and prepare for her grandparents that were arriving in the evening. In fact, she could already hear her older brother in the next room over tidying up his room and throwing dirty laundry into a pile, which he would later collect and wash.
Liz was thirteen in a week, and she had a twin that slept in the bunk above hers. Her brother was seventeen, but he was kind and generous to his little sisters. Liz's twin, somehow knowing her sister was awake, jumped off her bed and walked to her closet to find some dress to wear. Unlike Liz, Rosa was very picky about her clothing when in public, but in her own home was rather messy.
"No school today," Liz informed her sister, who nodded and pulled on some yoga pants and a tank-top. "I can't believe our grandparents are coming today!" Rosa squealed, doing a quick dance around the room. She was in ballet, and was in top of her class. Their mother often polished her trophies lovingly, making Liz glower and stalk away. But Liz was a young star too- she was famous in her state for gymnastics. Liz sometimes did cartwheels down the banister (this was very dangerous, and more than once she had fallen off) or back-hand-springs on the trampoline.
Liz pulled out matching clothes to Rosa's, and the two grinned and spun around each other. Since they had the exact same haircut (though Rosa had thicker hair) they looked almost identical. Since their grandparents hadn't seen them in a year, the two would most definitely be called each other's names. This didn't bother the young pranksters- in fact, they hoped that this happened.
"Girls!" their mom called up the stairs, and the two raced to the door and then looked down the stairs. "I made breakfast!" The twins exchanged a grin and gracefully sat down on the banister, before sliding down and landing on opposite sides of their mom. Their mom smiled and shook her head, leading them to the kitchen table where a stack of steaming pancakes awaited them. "Mmmm... Thanks, mom!" Rosa and Liz said in unison, grabbing two each and pouring syrup on.
After breakfast, all the members of the house went to work. They dusted, swept, mopped, scrubbed, polished, and washed everything they could get their hands on. Liz was just finishing vacuuming the living room when the doorbell rang. Rosa, who was setting the table, put the last fork and napkin down and rushed up the stairs with Liz.
The twins put on their best clothes, identical dresses that were a dark purple. They pulled on boots that reached to their knees, and braided each other's hair. They looked like princesses in just five minutes. Wiping off a smudge on Liz's cheek, Rosa grinned and spun around, making her dress fly up, revealing black leggings. The leggings were just the perfect touch, because the twin's hair was black.
They heard laughter downstairs and the clink of glasses, so they rushed downstairs. When they arrived at the doorway to the kitchen, they saw their brother, mother and father, grandma and grandpa drinking a purple liquid. There was sparkling champagne right next to another bottle, that looked the same as wine but was just soda in a fancy bottle.

The family proceeded to have a magnificent Christmas dinner, and afterwards they opened presents. As Liz lay in bed that night, she rubbed her full tummy with satisfaction and drifted off to sleep, having pleasant dreams about flying reindeer and talking snowmen.
Edited By Fififace on 11/15/2020 at 2:58 AM.
Fififace
Level 64
Scout
Joined: 11/10/2017
Threads: 7
Posts: 250
Posted: 4/27/2021 at 12:23 PM Post #3

Oh come on, guys! We need to get some stories for the wee ones! They're going mad with boredom! We're going to have a riot on our hands before long.
Mystiria827
Level 69
The Perfectionist
Joined: 12/21/2019
Threads: 40
Posts: 5,897
Posted: 5/1/2021 at 10:11 PM Post #4
Myst takes a deep breath, mustering up what few stories she has left in her (albeit rather twisted) brain.

"Ah... Fauna, was it? I don't know how good of a storyteller I am, or how many I have left to tell, but I'll certainly try my hardest to keep the young ones entertained."
She sits down, drumming her fingers nervously before finally settling on a tale.
---
You don't know me, and I don't know you. Or maybe you do. I don't know that either. Really, life is but a tangled web of things we know or don't know.
One thing I do know, though, is that I've heard and seen a lot of stories in my time. Some I've picked up, some I made myself, some a combination of both. Some I made with others, some in solitude in the dead of the night, some through the connection of strange magical technology from another world.... I'm good at that sort of thing, heh.
So I'll tell you a story about dreams. A funny thing they are, tales our mind weaves when we're not around to lock it in a cage and tell it to be civil. But yet dreams inspire us, they drive us, my own life has changed in countless ways because of dreams. What are your dreams, and will you let them guide you?
---
Long ago, there was a young prince... mind you, this was so long ago that his name has since been lost to time. At the time, I worked as a minstrel and entertainer in the royal court- hey! I'm older than I look!
*muttering* I swear, kids these days....
Anyways. The prince was not happy with his life in the court, and the bard- that's me- could tell. The way his eyes wandered at every given opportunity, the restless way in which he stood... he looked like a trapped bird ready to take flight. His parents, the King and Queen, tried everything to steer him back onto the path of royalty. Persuasive words, tutoring, distractions, even punishment. But nothing worked- if anything, the tactics they used only stirred resentment within the prince.
The King and Queen came to the bard one day, for they knew she had wisdom in many areas and much experience in the workings of children.
*pointedly glares at the disobedient audience* so you had best watch out.
"Lady Mystiria," The Queen asked me. (I told her to call me Myst, but of course she didn't listen.) "We've tried everything, but our son refuses to cooperate with the traditions of royalty. What in the world is wrong with him, and how can we solve it?"
Of course, I knew what was 'wrong' with the prince immediately- it wasn't a problem so much as a gift, and I hesitated to tell the monarchs for fear they'd try to squelch it out of him. But of course, I also feared for my own head, so I didn't dare withhold it from them.
"Your Majesty," I told the Queen, "There's nothing wrong with your child at all. In fact, I think him rather special. Can't you see it? He's a dreamer, and because of this he's destined for greatness."
I don't think the Queen liked that. Or the King. But I've never been one to pander to someone's tender little feelings.
But even for someone as.... fine, as arrogant as me, I admit I spoke before I thought. The King and Queen placed even more restrictions and strict rules upon the prince, and I could see he was beginning to strain and break. His eyes, although still bright and fierce, had lost some of their luster, showed the fragile state of his mind. I couldn't do anything for him in my current position but pray he was strong enough to make it through, but such a feat seemed unlikely.
So, being the schemer I was- and AM, for that matter- I came up with a plan.
I pleaded the King and Queen to allow me to tutor the prince in music, an extremely difficult and risky endeavor, but by whatever twist of good fortune they allowed it. 'Thank goodness,' I thought. 'Maybe, just maybe, the kid's got half a chance now.'
I was allowed to visit the prince in his chamber once a week, to school him in the matters of all things musical alongside my extensive knowledge of history. When I first saw him, my heart sank. He was listless, dull, barely there. His soul had retreated to the furthest corners of his mind in a feeble attempt to keep itself from being extinguished entirely. But I was not too late, it was still there, and I had confidence in that I would be able to coax it out.
"Lady Mystiria, is it?"
"Call me Myst."
---
It was months before I got him back to the state he was before.
We started with the lute and the dulcimer- I told stories of the old days and taught him how to play. Then came the pipes and the flute, the horn and the lyre, the zither and voice. He had a remarkable voice, the voice of an angel, really. Yes, yes, I do know how to play far too many instruments for my own good, although I'm rusty on most.
And to my great surprise, when the prince was about 10 or 11 years old.... he told me his plot to escape.
"Myst?"
"Yes, milord?"
"You do that to annoy me at this point...."
"Perhaps."
"I'm getting out of here."
"...pardon?"
"I'm running away. I'm not happy here. There's too many rules, too many things to do."
"I'll help you."
"...huh? I thought you'd be mad...."
"Well, firstly, if you thought I'd be mad it was exceptionally stupid to say that in the first place. But secondly, yes, I'll do everything I can to get you out of this blasted court."
---
He escaped.
It involved hitting his father across the face with a dinner platter.
It was incredibly satisfying. I still remember the booooong it made....
With the help of some well-placed incantations the court definitely didn't know I could do, both bard and prince fled to the edge of the kingdom to the wild forest.
"So." I said. "We're here. You'd better be sure about this."
"I am," He replied. "More than sure."
"That's the spirit. I'll visit for a couple more weeks.... to make sure you can forage and hunt for food, build or find shelter... the like. Also, I'll place some spells around here and there so the rest won't find you.
"Myst?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you doing all this for me? Risking your job, even your life?"
"I'm thousands of years old, and a mage. I go through jobs like most people do underwear. But if you really wanted to know...." I smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking, with him, out towards the forest. "It's because you're a dreamer. You'll do great things kid, I just know it. But first, you've got to break free of everything that's tying you down."
I noticed, with a start, that his eyes were bright blue, like the sky on a cloudless day. I hadn't noticed his eye color before, but it certainly wasn't that. Magic, I thought, but not mine, his own. I was right.... this kid has some serious potential. I wonder where he'll be come ten years from now.
And there we parted ways. Just like I promised, I visited a couple times afterwards to teach him how to survive in the woods, which he did excellently. His eyes turned an even more electric blue with the time that passed, and his hair grew out long and pale silvery-blonde. He, just like me, was not human anymore, changed by magic.
Last I saw him, it was a little more that three hundred years ago. I don't think he saw me, but I know it was him by the song he was playing high in a treetop. One of my own teachings, combined with something he had written himself. He went by the name Lore, and I think he still goes by that to this day. The Boy of the Woods is what they call him some places, Ghost Child others, the Forest Guardian still others. But to me, he'll always be the prince who could dream.
And this is my lesson for you, small monkey-gremlins that mankind passes off as 'children': never stop dreaming, never give in, and never let anything hold you back. If you believe in yourself, even if you don't 'know' everything, incredible things can happen.
Yamii
Level 62
Trickster
Joined: 10/14/2019
Threads: 142
Posts: 4,764
Posted: 5/2/2021 at 12:44 PM Post #5
This story is from the perspective of an OC of mine called Fehe. Enjoy : )

"Eh, Fauna? Need a story for kids? Well, I do have one those kiddos might like..." Fehe said, putting down her drink, cracking her knuckles.

I had just escaped the lab where the strange people had changed me, both my body and my mind. I scrabbled further into the woodlands, jumping at every sound. I trusted nobody, not since I let my trust down and let this happen.
I looked at the sky and the looming darkness of a cloud crept by. A storm was coming. Before I could be soaked with water, I ran into the nearest crevice I could find. The place was dark and damp, but better then the pouring rain.
I wandered deeper into the crevice. As I explored, it was more like a massive cave as crystals on the cave walls illuminated the place. My senses were at a peak, sniffing wildly, picking up scents, both familiar and unfamiliar. As the crystals lit up the cave even more, I saw a massive opening with a waterfall in the center. Seeing the fresh, running water, I realized how thirsty I was. I began slurping up the water, feeling the coolness down my throat.
Right at that moment, I felt breathing behind me. My pupils shrank and my fur stood on end. I jumped and unsheathed my claws. The creature behind me was a beautiful, sleek horse-like creature. It stared into my wide, terrified eyes. It looked for a moment, before nudging me to follow. I reluctantly followed, tired and confused.
The creature lead me to a cove of hundred of hiding creatures, all different shapes and sizes. I knew what they were hiding from. The war. The ones that changed me. I looked back to the creature.
"Home." It croaked. It clearly didnt know how to talk very well.
I realized what it meant. This place was hidden, safe, and peaceful and kept the war at bay, at least for a little time. I was relieved to see a place I could leave behind the war and start new. But then, I remembered. My human family, my friends, and the thousands dying.
"What about the others?" I asked the creature.
"Gone." It replied, looking sadly at its hooves.
"But, they're still alive."
"No. Gone." It croaked.
I sat down, thinking. I could stay and start fresh, but I couldn't leave everyone I knew to die
"No. This isnt home. People need me, and I cant rot down here tormented by that forever. Im sorry..." I said, walking away, climbing out into the woods.
While seeing that beauty gave me hope, I couldnt forget everyone here. I guess I'll have to fight. And this was the beginning of my fresh start...
Edited By Yamii on 5/2/2021 at 12:50 PM.
Yamii
Level 62
Trickster
Joined: 10/14/2019
Threads: 142
Posts: 4,764
Posted: 5/2/2021 at 12:46 PM Post #6
ping
 
This Page loaded in 0.017 seconds.
Terms of Service | Privacy Policy | Contact Us | Credits | Job Opportunities
© Copyright 2011-2021 Sylestia Games LLC.
All names and logos associated with Sylestia are Trademarks of Sylestia Games LLC.
All other trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
For questions, comments, or concerns please email at Support@Sylestia.com.