7 virtues: Temperance

“Bring the thief before me!”

The guards dragged the man before him.

“Mercy, High Judge!” the accused pleaded.

He knew that face. Before him was the boy who’d bullied him as a child. Who’d pushed his face into the mud, kicked him in the stomach and worse. How ironic that now he was at his mercy. As High Judge, he was the one who decided. The evidence spoke of innocence, but…

It would feel good to lop off his hand.

No, I would be no better than him.

“The evidence shows another committed the crime. Free him.”

Creatures of Verannia: Meet Cricri - and her tails

Her thoughts were interrupted by snoring; she had found who she sought. Puppy or Cricri as she preferred, was resting under a Healing Tree when Siri finally came. Cricri yawned and stretched her furry body before rising to her legs and padding over to the fellow hunter. Her appearance was canine except for the colouring: her underside was white as snow and her back blue as a lake, with darker stripes running over her ribs. She greeted Siri with a look only puppies and small girls mastered.

Cricri is a wurmtail hound – a canine creature with two snakes for tails, originally born out of a magical mishap. The legend goes that a young wizard wanted a unique pet and tried to dye his dog blue with a simple spell. Something went wrong and instead he found himself the proud owner of something even more unique: a snake-tailed talking blue dog. The first wurmtail hound was born.

Since then the hounds have bred stubbornly in the woods of Verannia, despite the obstacles. Reproduction has never been easy for wurmtail hounds, since each individual houses three personalities in one body. On top of that the personalities of the tails are often completely opposite: atheist-true believer, social butterfly-hermit, chaste-lecherous etc. Cricri’s tails Pink and Blue are a bimbo-scholar pair:

“I didn’t hear anything,” Siri searched her memories for something she might have heard, but found nothing worth notice.

“You're human,” Blue noted. “That's near deaf.”

“I thought snakes were near deaf,” Pink interrupted.

“Just because we don't have outer ears doesn't mean we can't hear, Pinkie.” Blue rolled her eyes, and gave Pink a sidelong glance of embarrassment.

“How could I know that!” She protested. “We're a woodland creature, not a biology student.”

“Well how then can I hear you ask about most obvious things, and question, and question and question my answers until I'm insane!” Blue hissed with fury.

Pink answered by sticking her pink, forked tongue at her.

---

“Technically, I've got three persons in one body,” Cricri said and glanced over her shoulder at Pink and Blue, “though it feels like I'm mothering two morons.”

“Oi!” Blue snapped.

“Huh?” Pink lifted her head from a patch of ice. “Sorry, but what did she say? I was busy admiring me eyelashes.”

“We don't have eyelashes.” Blue hung her head in chagrin, then added: “We don't even have eyelids.”

“Stop that!” Cricri bellowed, before giving chase to her tails.

So it is not very difficult to understand why wurmtail hounds usually prefer a solitary life. Every spring they gather to the annual Wurmtail Hound Courtship Gathering, an event the Elder Hounds have created to ensure the survival of the species. After two weeks of pairing up, the hounds sigh in relief and return to their solitary lives.

Wurmtail hounds never consent to become pets, even though they may sometimes outsource hunting to a Foodmaster in return for their services. Cricri’s Foodmaster Siri provides her with leftovers and in return the hound protects Siri from possible threats and warns if either of her uncles is searching for her. Though Cricri is no one’s pet, she has become attached to her young Foodmaster.

She was distracted by a cold, wet touch on her shoulder, followed by a warm body curling against her back.

“Stop eavesdropping and go to sleep,” Cricri muttered. “You know you can’t look tired if you’ve been sleeping.”

7 virtues: Chastity

She walked past the sneering brutes, holding her head high though her spirits were low. They had besieged her village for days now. Hopefully their offer was a sensible one.

Wishful thinking.

“Spend the night in my bed.” The leader lifted his eyes long enough to see the scorn on her face.

“Never.”

Upon returning to the village her friend asked:

”You turned down his offer. Why?”

“Witches lose their power if they bed.” She rose to the wall, power dancing at her fingertips. “He might keep his word, but the village would be left defenseless against others.”

Why I write fantasy

Morning was leaving and the world began to wake from its grogginess. Birds crisscrossed the sky, their chirruping interrupted by a passing dragon. The sun’s rays danced upon its black skin, reflecting in a rainbow of colours.

Above is an excerpt from the story I am currently focusing on. Like most of the stories I’m writing, this one contains magical beings; dragons, shapeshifters, monsters and some of my own creations. The presence of creatures and magic is what sets fantasy apart from other genres. That is one reason why I chose fantasy.

When I was little I listened to my mother read stories with talking foxes and rabbits with clothes, who lead very human lives. I loved animals, in the stories and in the real world; henceforth I wanted to write stories with human-like animals and creatures. There are few genres which allow me non-human characters: horror, children’s stories and fantasy. I haven’t entirely forsaken the other two, but the themes of my stories often require the character to go through hardships and emotional turmoil that has no place in a small child’s story. As for horror, I’m too squeamish.

The other aspect of fantasy that drew me in is magic, the power to shape reality. Magic allows dragons to breathe fire, shapeshifters to alter their appearance and some humans to wield the elements to a degree. It also allows for magical mishaps such as pink, polka dot shrew with butterfly antennas. It also raises the obstacles the protagonist must face; demons, evil gods, monsters and other dark things that exist only in the depths of our nightmares. As a writer I long to wield these elements into something awe inspiring, opening the reader a door into a new world.

Which brings me to the third reason, the worlds. I have much more freedom in creating the stage of my story. With the aid of magic the inhabitants can build huge castles and other constructions that defy the laws of nature. There can be places where to reach to the sprits with a word, and old dark halls guarded by creatures whose stare or bite will turn the unwary traveller to stone. The imagination is the only limit.

As well as writing, I draw. I love drawing strange and exotic places such as ice causeways, fiery pits and dark tunnels infested with demons. I also love describing those places, never mind a picture says more than a thousand words, I can instil the feel of the place in the readers mind, describe the deep, raspy breaths of a monster lurking in the shadow and how the cold seeps beneath the skin. Or the sun’s rays, warmly caressing the face of the character standing in the picture, his elation at the prospect of returning home.

I feel like home when I enter a bookstore or library, surrounded by friends. When I pick up a book I sometimes hold my breath as I read the back of the book to learn some of its secrets and decide whether to carry it home with me. When I read, I travel to another realm of reality and learn of human nature.

Emilia Quill