#stone king

Watch Art While Riding on a sunshine rainbow little white horse

騎著陽光彩虹小白馬觀看藝術品

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A very green mage.

It's a print of a mini from Stone King, who does great chibi-style minis.

The Stone King, in his human form; I draw a lot of mountains, so I thought this one should look a little different.

Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (chapter 2 - Sunday Paper 2/7 ) part 6. Stories of wizards

mild violance

Life is hard without magic. Mundane life that is. People are common, everything is drab, and reliant on money or technology. Everyday, many people want a more adventurous and whimsical life. Full of colour, passion and awe. The rest of the people don’t mind feeding goats, fixing the wi-fi, planting flowers, or answering the phone. Because everyone is different; and what may give one-person satisfaction in their life, is the worst possible outcome for another. The joy of living in a world with magic, is that happily ever afters are real; it’s simply a matter of figuring out what that is for you.

           Two years ago, in the mourning, Morgan biked to school, having only consumed toast. When he arrived, there was an announcement telling students to avoid the language wing, due to goblins in the wall by the girl’s washroom. Locker renovations had made a warm dark hole in the wall. A wizard would arrive in the afternoon, to clear these fey out of the school. Morgan, distracted by the intercom, was shoved into a locker by the regular bullies. Children his age could be mean. Morgan no longer remembers what about his appearance, or personality, they tormented him for. He just felt lucky he could use the bruises they gave him, to lie about the ones his father gave him. If it is not apparent, Morgan was one of those people who wanted a more whimsical life; it would be better then being alone.

           The class Morgan had before lunch, was gym; He feinted. Just like his father, Morgan was prone to swooning in sudden bouts of syncope. Anything from emotional distress to low blood sugar could make him wake up on the nurses caught. The nurse was normally not there. Today she was however, and forced Morgan to drink some processed orange juice, asked about the bruises, and the cuts on his wrists. Morgan shrugged and left, leaving her wondering if she should file something. Outside the office was a vending machine; Morgan put in some silver, and put in the code for all-dressed crisps. He watched as the corkscrew mechanism slowly wound, pushing the bag towards the dark pit of the vending shoot. He could relate.

           In third period, the math teacher gave everyone homework time. Half-way through, Morgan finished his assignments, and rose his hand for the teacher let him leave early to use the washroom. Morgan went to the language wing, and directly to the crevice with the lilac butterfly goblins. He opened the bag of crisps, and evenly distributed them to the stone children.

“You should leave. A wizard will be here in ten minutes, to remove you. Common folk kill fey they think or scary. Say hello to your father for me.” Morgan said in Elden Anglian, standing up. The goblins squeaked in agreeance, and left. The bell rang. Morgan walked to his next class as the halls filled. A different group of peers shoved him, face first, into a door; Laughing at him for feinting. The teacher sent him back to the nurse’s office, as he had a bloody nose. His bullies snickered in the back, causing the teacher to leer. Morgan had already left.

           The Nurse called Morgan’s mother, who wasn’t home for another hour. She was landscaping for a perfectionist client again. The nurse handed the phone to Morgan.

“Sweety, I know you don’t like to eat, but finish your lunch and bike home. I picked up flour and butter yesterday, so you can bake if your homework is done. See you soon!” Icthya said. She was possibly the sweetest lady in the land.

“Ok.” Morgan said in a sad and quiet voice. He handed the phone back to the nurse, gathered his things and went home. Once home, Morgan baked a batch of two dozen thumbprint cookies, and then lay in his bed. He wanted to paint, but looking at the ceiling was easier.

Morgan’s parent would be home in thirty minutes. He stopped breathing. If they found out about the goblins at school, and suspected he went near them, his mother would burst into tears at the thought of him being close to ‘potentially deadly’ magic. Then his father would beat him, in a desperate attempt to deter him for going near anything mystical. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last percussion maintenance. At the end of Morgan’s bed, was a card table with an open ancient ledger. The used book retailers in The Capitol, would give him the old books because no one wanted them. They were old, in ancient writing no one could read, and were taking up space. In reality the shop keepers loved how happy Morgan looked when he received a dishevelled book no one wanted. The books were journals of long dead mages. Morgan wanted a whimsical and adventurous life, like the ones he read in those books. These journals helped him escape once he audited Understanding Old Anglian, from the local university. Morgan wanted to be a librarian; the magic history kind. But settled to be the regular kind, to comfort his parents and avoid abuse. He couldn’t stand his mother crying. Morgan wondered what his grandpa was like; If he hadn’t died in a fey hording incident, would Morgan and grandpa bond in the fey garden in grandma’s backyard? Would Morgan be in a magic academy to become a seer.

The Journal by Morgan’s feet, opened to a table of fours diagram, that made a temporary gate to the shadow veil if written with chalk, and bee’s wax candles were lit at each of the ten runes of the beast kingdoms. Morgan went into the front closet, grabbed the sidewalk chalk, and then the bee tea lights. His mother Ichtya liked bees. Morgan checked his watch; He had twenty-two minutes before his parents came home. He didn’t expect the spell to actually work.

Morgan found himself in a grayscale mountain side. At his feet, was a candle lamp, that flickered pale blue; to go back home. This must be the Shadow Veil, Morgan thought. No one was around, and it was perfectly quiet. He didn’t feel heat from the sun, nor the cold of wind. Morgan took a deep breath. Morgan noticed he still had a half bag of crisps in his trench pocket. He searched himself. Morgan was uncomfortable; He wasn’t used to being perfectly calm. It felt good. Addictively so. Morgan began to walk along the ridge, to the east. He noticed colours; stone fey. Quartz trolls, neon goblins, blue dwarves, and a glimmering silver bow and arrow set with amethysts. He recognized them from one of his journals; The unbreakable sword and bow, gifted to the royal house of Cynedom. His house. Morgan contemplated the fact he was the last in line to the house that once ruled the Grand West, when it was called Anglia. Along with his father, who still worked the heirloom ranch, which was now a tourist spot. Then Morgan asked a dwarf where he was. It shrugged and said: Home.

Morgan was now smiling, as he skipped along the rocky terrain that gave way to a forest edge. There was a flat stone platform to his right, engraved with the gate diagram but missing the stone kingdom rune. If it was open to a magic forest back in the Day Veil, it would be glowing; according to what Morgan had read. To his left, Morgan saw a stone chess table, with an unfinished game of chess on it. He examined the game, and moved the white knight. The ground began to rumbled and shake, causing Morgan to crouch and peer over the chess table. The pieces remained in their place. Then, a man of stone in traditional Grand East clothing, walked forward from the slope, and moved the black bishop to take the knight. He had a soft smile on his smooth marble face.

“My wife didn’t want to finish the game. Io can be a quitter when she is tiered. Want to play?” He said. Morgan smiled, and made a move. After two terns, he gave the living statue the rest of the bag of crisps. He ate them with enthusiasm.

“I had some children come home from Anglia today, telling me a mage boy named Morgan gave them these. They are wonderful! This is why I send my children to the Day Veil; Humans are so creative, and make things as wondrous as me and my siblings.” He chimed. Morgan moved his pawn into checkmate. It dawned on him that he might have won a game of chess against the literal Stone King, who was one of the ten sources of all magic in the world.

“Oh look! You won! Good job! You wouldn’t be that nice Morgan Cynedom boy by any chance?” the Stone King asked. “Can’t think of any reason why a human would visit my kingdom.” He explained further. Morgan nodded. He was stunned; He couldn’t remember the last time someone said ‘good job.’

“It was nice to play with someone; I don’t have friends. I’m glad your children are ok; My school almost sent a wizard to take care of them…” Morgan said.

“You’re not scared of me? And you enjoyed playing a game, and giving me and my children potatoes? Why I haven’t seen a mage in my kingdom for centuries; And the one that shows up, is sweeter then roasted parsnips.” The Stone King smiled. Morgan smiled back. He was having fun.

“Here, take this.” The Stone King said, handing Morgan a palm sized smooth stone, with the rune for stan on it.

“Oh, thanks.” Morgan giggled. He had no idea why the Stone King had just given him a rock, but it made him happy to get a gift. “I have to come back and see you again!” Morgan smiled.

“Can’t wait!” The Stone King said. Behind him, a woman of crystal looked at them with curiosity. Morgan waved good bye at both of them. He intended to go home, but instead, his feet carried him further east. This place was far better then home; He felt safe.

NEXT--->

I had this dream last night that really inspired me, so here’s a little something I spent entirely too long making.

Seiph Blugimm, in fairy robes; The mage of the Stone Gate forest is not as famous as his twin brother, but is relevant enough to illustrate

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 8.1 - At The Time 8/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

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           Sinonia Doesn’t have cities; it has a constant, and evenly dispersed, rural landscape; And heavy traffic trade routs. The roads are wide, muddy, sided by lush ferns and bamboo, or tree groves. If your lucky, one can pass a farm, with fields strategically placed upon the strata of hills. There are many hills, of many heights in Sinonia; with many bridges. Like soft old mountains that never ended. The good thing about these features, is that it’s hard to get lost. There is always one person within distance, to gesticulate for directions; And they are used to it. The bad thing is that it feels like a perpetual hike, with no change in scenery. Meriam and her men had been away from home for weeks, and had only just accepted the fact they had traveled across the world, and their only hope was a magic forest, where they might find Sirulius’s identical twin brother. Of whom was the court mage, from what they gathered. Having searched the mountains for days, they stopped at what seemed to be an elaborate building, painted red and adorned with beads, and canvas sliding doors depicting nature. The ground around it was surrounded by perfectly circular cobbled of stone, and coloured glass. Tiered and hungry, Meriam decided such a gratuitous establishment might have a good host. The door slid open without her needing to ring the brass bells, with the provided mallet.

           The odd house was crowded with gold and red charms for luck. There was depictions of fey and livestock on everything; from statues, basins, table wear, and tapestries; to the canvas walls. The owner was a short very old lady, dressed in embroidered vibrant satins. She was the only one in the house, and given the number of luxurious objects in and around the property, possibly rich. From what Meriam could tell, the entire place was completely normal; not a drop of enchantment. Though it had a certain ambiance to it, that would make some people suspicious. Like it was too comfortable, and thus hiding something. The old lady instinctively brought powdered green tea, and said they could stay the night because her eight cats liked them. Meriam was allergic to cats, but her men seemed to like them. Meriam and her party were given congii, and warm water to bathe; they had never known such gratitude in theirs lives.

“Thank you graciously for your hospitality; Are you sure you do not want compensation? I am a mage and can easily alchemize you anything you wish, enchant your house with protections-” Meriam said

“No thank you.” The old lady smiled, filling her bowl. “I’ve had enough of mages and magic, Anglian girl. That’s why I live here in Sinonia. There aren’t many fey outside the gate. And the fey that are here, are mischievous or obvious. Best to leave them alone; guard your livers while you sleep, there be foxes in these woods. And stay away from the water, there be dragons behind the falls. Sleep every night like it is your last, and be weary of things that seem too good.”

“That sounds incredible! The fey I mean, not the fact you’re not fond of magic.” Meriam said.

“Yes dear. I prefer cats.”

“I can see that... That said, we are looking for a magic gate, so we may get home. I was told, by a mage at the coast, his brother guards the Stone Gate; you wouldn’t happen to know how to get there from here?”

“Oh, our witch Seiph Blugimm! He’s a good boy. Keeps the fey away, and brings me these adorable strays. Has two children who live down river, with his wife. She grows and makes the best tea, and visits often with Seiph’s artwork for my walls.” The old lady said frailly. “You can find him ten minutes down road, if you veer off the path to your right, when you see a goblin made of moonstone. Can’t miss it.” She smiled. Everyone gave thanks, and had a good sleep on soft floor mats, surrounded by purring fur. They had a good mourning meal, and the lady sent them off with a smile. She was genuinely happy to have had visitors.

“By the way dear; Your men may go dark in the shadow veil on your way home. Magic forest,s and gates to the kingdoms of fey, aren’t the place for common men.” She warned Meriam. Meriam was so eager to go home, she had forgotten that non-mages get scared by the colourless, windless, warmthless, quiet shadow veil.

            Being refreshed by the first good sleep they had in weeks, did not prepare Meriam or her men from the incredibly creepy goblin statue. It was larger than a normal goblin, and had a crinkled face and was showing its tusk like teeth, holding a shard of crystal. It was one of the most terrifying bad omens Meriam had ever seen.

“You don’t think it’s a warning, do you, your highness? From this Seiph mage, my queen?”

“No. It is the rough work from dwarves, by the look of it.” Meriam said, inspecting the statue. Then she headed off the path, and deeper into the forest. There was an unsettling identical statue, every ten meters, leading to a flattened mountain face that was painted red, and covered in non-human hand prints. Infront of it was a different statue: it was tall beautiful man made of smooth grey rock. Behind the statue, was a perfectly carved tunnel into the mountain. It was big enough to accommodate a single file line of people. Above it, freshly painted, was the title Forest of Lost Children in Anglian runes. Meriam shrugged, and entered, then summoned luck fire to lead the way.

           As they advanced though the tunnel, it widened; until they reached a waterfall that filled the passage. Yet, there was no cracks in the ceiling, nor the floor; that water was coming from, and going, nowhere. Meriam stared at it for a few minutes, and then reached into the center, and pulled it aside like a curtain, gesturing for her men to pass. The further in the cave they went, the more eerie and dark it became. Until they noticed glowing mushrooms, and giant flowers, which radiated neon colours. They began to hear roars, caws, groans and howls coming from the thick forest they entered. It was night, even though it was dawn. Meriam stopped at a fork in the round cobbled trail, that was now underfoot. There was a waist high flat rock, with brail like dots on it. Down one path, there was glowing water, flowing from the mountain, with a dwarf carved bridge. The other way lead into the woods up and the mountain. The third path lead into a thick thorn laden part of the forest.

“I don’t know where to go, and I fear letting Nihten look ahead. I fear charming, or talking to these fey. The trees are gossiping ill wills.” Meriam said, looking around cautiously. This began to unsettle her party. Suddenly, small lights began to glow; leading them down the inner forest path. Meriam grabbed the knight who was about to follow them.

“I don’t think those fairies are the kind that are fond of humans.” She warned.

“Lies.” A small boy’s voice came from the bridge. Everyone looked down the water path, to see a small boy in a cone hat, and mucking gear on a small raft. He was using a pole to go through the water. He appeared to be a swamp wildling. Faries that resemble boys, but hate coddling and wield elemental powers to match their habitat. Meriam and her knights had seen ice ones in Grand Snow, and Storm Wildlings in Isfisceard. They usually hung in clubs causing mischief, but this one was alone. And it knew how to speak to humans; Which meant it must have met one.

“Hello!” Meriam said, dashing toward the bridge. Her men, now spooked, quickly ran after Meriam, fearing she was the only thing between them and death.

“My name is Meriam Craweleoth, I am a mage of Anglia, and me and my friends are looking for Seiph and the Stone Gate. Can you help us?” Meriam chimed.

“Play with me. The river is made by a dragon who breaths liquid fire to light the forest. The mermaids are at the bottom, and they might eat your friends. You can follow me though! You can call me Boomer. I don’t remember my fame name. been too long.” Boomer said enthusiastically.

           Boomer played tag with them, leading the party of six to a stone platform that came out of the glowing swamp. There was also no fey in the swamp, so Meriam guessed Boomer had made it as a moat around the buildings, and he only let friends pass. Meriam and her knights climbed the large stairs out of the water, and up to the top. It looked like a royal palace, made entirely of stone smaller houses, around a town square. In the center of the square, was a well that resembled an inviting fire pit. The place looked abandoned, yet lived in. There was a stable full of odd horses, goats and pigs, and a man in slate and peins grey silk fairy robes, smoking on a porch. He looked like Sirulius, down to his blue eyes, but his hair remained black, and he wore formal Sinonian makeup in a duo chrome teal. He looked surprised to see them.

“Look Seiph! New friends! And one is a mage!” Boomer exclaimed, running over to hug his knee. Seiph put out his pipe, and got up from his kneeling desk to greet his guests. He summoned short pillowed stools around the fire pit, and bowed.

“Io’s enchantments, and children, keep most folk far from here. I made this village with the stone children, for my family; all of which trust and love magic. Yet, they dare not enter the Forest of Lost Children. What makes you so brave you bare it?”

“We need to pass into the shadow veil, with the Stone Gate. We live in the capital of Anglia, on the other side of the Raven Gate. We have traveled across the world, and are desperate to go home to our own families.” Meriam pleaded.

“Your guards wear fine clothes; they are paid well. I can only assume you are The Mage Queen. Are your men aware they would have to pass the terror of the shadow veil, to get home? As if this cursed daycare isn’t terrorizing enough?” Seiph said sternly.

“My Queen, you did not say the shadow veil would hurt us…” one of the knights said.

“It won’t. It will just be unsettling to the point of causing you to go dark from sensory confussion. I know how to treat your fever and bleeding, from the magic flow that results from your …discomfort as common folk. I can quickly prepare a potion of Rosa Sanguine, when we immerge. Though, if you’re lucky, your eyes and hair may be a more radiant hue.” Meriam said. “Do you not trust me? I would not put in danger, or make you do anything I didn’t think you could do.” She finished. Her guards were so tiered, and wanted to go home so badly, but now they were torn by terror. Seiph transmuted a pot, and made them some tea. It was the same good matcha their previous host said was from his wife. They all took a seat. The glow of the fire and tree children, was like lanterns in the dark of the forest; which echoed the whispers, and calls of fey.

“Let us share some tales and tea, while your common folk decide thier fates. Do you trust your queen and the power of the love for your families, and in your hearts? Or will you sacrum to fear of the ‘darker’ side of magic. Even if you choose to battle your greatest emotions, in the ether of all enchantment, I must add it is difficult to get to Stone Queen’s Gate.” Seiph said. They took their cups of tea in silence, and Seiph gave Boomer some warm milk and a lap to sleep on. Boomer was the only wilding in this forest, and he was also one of the few fey who were kind here. If it isn’t a stone child, Seiph warned, it is not worth trusting in the magic forest of the Stone Gate. This is the magic forest the beast king’s send the fey children that don’t play nice with the kingdoms of men.

           Meriam started by informing Seiph that his brother Sirlius, had fallen in love with Asada of the Monkey Gate; to fulfill her destiny and dreams. It proved Seiph was capable of smiling. Then the knights went on about the Emperor denying their request for peace, after saving the town from Sirulius’s storm; which they needed to appease the Sultan of Indonia. All of these things where done in order to gain safe global passage, and encircle Francia into surrender, or alliance. Just saying it, reminded them of the wars going on at boarders around the world. Battles that claimed their brothers, uncles and fathers, and of which they were lucky enough to never attend.

“I can put in a good word about an alliance. Though neutrality is the best result; Sinonia is aligned with Francia and Indonia, and is attempting to take the Eastlands of Vieticia. A quarter our land is desert, another quarter is alpine. We need lush landa as much as our allies. Not to mention, our Emperor is a greedy evil bastard; Our ore alone could buy Sinonia anything it wishes from merchants; Yet he hoards it. You should see the imperial palace. But still, the emperor may align with you if I want it. You see, He wants a court mage so bad, but dare not fetch me from this forest, or threaten my family. He fears me, yet desires me. He tries to butters me, while eating from my spoon. I could care less for his cause, but his favor amuses me. I don’t want more soldiers dying for a pointless battle; It’s frankly stupid. On behalf of Sinonia, I accept the peace of the West and North kingdoms. If traveling across the plains of fire, and into this forest, then through the shadow veil, does not convince this kingdom of your value, I do not know what will.” Seiph explained. The crackling warmth fire that burned before them, was a deep unnatural orange, that comforted deep into the bones. Meriam thought she should have warned Seiph, Sirulius, and Asada, of wizards; but realized they were untouchable due to their curses. No matter the comfort of the magic flames, she felt sad. She felt guilt for not warning her guards and friends of danger, in order to preserve their ignorant bliss. Being a Seer of magic, had taught her the value of not knowing. As her heart sank, Meriam heard all five of her beloved knights agree to her terms. They, as common folk, trusted that magic would not hurt them; and they would endure the shadow veil to hug the ones they loved.

NEXT--->

CRK