The Sisters Three
Young limbs bent easily as they plowed through the increasingly thick timberland. Green leaves flapped in the air, wild as butterflies rooted to their place on each thin branch while, one by one, the group charged through, heavily laden with their bundles. Stopping, the leader turned, her deep raven coils springing wildly as she willed the others to move ever quicker with a worried stare. “Faster,” her voice hissed loudly, knowing full well they have been moving as quick as their legs allowed. “Oh, hurridly now,” she added in a breathless plea, pulling the large satchel tighter over the slight, strong shoulders. Filled with every necessity they could think to grab in no time, the leather bag, slightly less than a third her size, threw her off balance when standing still.
In ten heartbeats the second was there by her side, soundlessly sliding through the brush as if she were a woodland spirit. Together they stood, thick gloom muddying their vision while they looked back in their wake, shoulder to shoulder if their heights weren’t so different. The younger but taller sister breathed rapidly, wisps of long blonde tresses framing the reddened, sweat streaked face. Strands tickled her cheeks, but arms remained firmly curled around her midsection, fiercely protective.
Barely visible through the sky high greenery, billowing gray smoke continued it’s path of suffocation, consuming every bit of blue in view. “He’s getting closer,” Effie gasped, lowering her gaze back to the rude trail they had only just forged. Both pairs of violet eyes searched deep beyond the sea of darkening green, and her dark brows furrowed in will and concentration while her sister’s silken brows began to turn up in worry.
“Do you think she . . .,” Mozelle barely began to put words to thought before being cut off by the elder.
“No,” Effie stated with almost no doubt. “She’s coming.”
As if the words of the wiser were a summoning incantation, the heavy steps and crunching of undergrowth became louder. The visage of an unkempt woman with a nest of brown hair perched atop her head pushed through the curtain of shrubbery. Huffing, she wiped the brow of her homely face, yet the stocky frame remained sturdy under several sacks of additional supplies. Tromping through the foliage, not unlike the pack mule she resembled, Nedgie continued forward only barking a quick “Go!”. The command was immediately obeyed as Effie and Mozelle turned forward again, moving with purpose.
“Nedgie, you must keeps up,” Effie continued to pull her sister forward with words, throat becoming dry from the thick ashen air.
“Just keep yer own pacing and I’ll be up with ya,” the third called to the front of the line, never lifting eyes from the trail.
Hacking deep in her throat, Mozelle bounced, holding the middle position on light heels. “I can’t hardingly breath,” she gasped, the words raspy and strained. “Effie, we can’t keep this up.”
Stopping abruptly, a few boughs whipped back to sting Mozelle on the cheek. Immediately, a sharp pain bursted across the soft flesh, thin red marks left as a souvenir, but hands refused to release the bundled charge, even if it meant more switches to the face.
In three steps the charging Nedgie plowed into her sister’s backside, grunting a low complaint until her words were cut short by the innocent wail of a jostled baby. Bouncing quickly, bopping the underside of her parcel, Mozelle worked quickly to quiet the offended prince. Soft shhh sounds came from thin lips as she cooed the babe back into a rhythmic lull.
Staring forward, the smallest, determined sister could only see more thicket, the breeze quickly turning into a curl raising wind. “I’m sorry,” she spoke to the thousands of acres ahead. Turning to her waiting accomplices, she gave a defeated, apologetic frown. “We’re in over our heads,” her voice raised as the whirling around intensified. “He’s too powerfully. We cannot outrun him.”
Mozelle’s long arms tighten at the thought of Adjar swiping the tiny prince with his thick, solid talons. Her normally cheerful face hardened with resolve. “In the shape of a man or dragon, that wizard will never touch this child.”
“Stop the running,” Nedgie piped up matter-of-factly. “Let us use our abilitaries one last time.”
“We can’t,” Effie nearly shouted as her black hair flew in all directions. Even in the chaos, she held firm in her beliefs of rules and responsibilities.
Nedgie dropped her cargo, the noise of pots and trinkets lost in the whistle of confusion. “We mustly. If not . . . ,”
“Now!” Mozelle interrupted, solidifying the decision as the form of a dragon emerged from the suffocating cloud of it’s own smoke. Even from such a great distance, jagged scales and red eyes shone sinister in the pale light. Without another second of hesitation Nedgie lowered her hands to the earth. The fauna, whether furred or feathered, within a circular acre immediately heeded the warning given through an intense vibration pulsing from the palms. Every wing took flight, every hoof and claw scampered. Even the lowest of the low scattered on multiple minuscule legs leaving the surrounding area silent and still.
Only a second behind, Mozelle finally risked freeing her grip on the tiny body strapped to her chest, long, spindly arms working quickly. Waving hands in a controlled pattern, palms down, she cleared the same acreage of all shrubbery and flora. In the same moment, spindly shoots pushed through the earth all around the perimeter. Thousands of thin, young trees grew up from the ground, crammed together, making a thick, bristly wall impenetrable by body and sight. The tops of the enclosure rose far above their heads creating a magical barricade.
The actions of the the two sisters caused the evil beat in the air to hone in on their location, and he dove. Mozelle and Nedgie looked at their eldest sister in panic, and a little understanding as Effie stood torn between a vow. Keep the words or break them now?
“Now!” Mozelle yells uncharacteristically. “Effie! His life is worth it.”
Nedgie nods, her brown nest of hair swirling in the chaotic currents blowing all around. “We be in this together.” She spoke low, but the words carried.
With a nod of acceptance, Effie lifted her hands above her head. Adjar’s black wings were pulled back as he cut through the air like a searing steel blade. Mozelle kept turning her long neck back and forth, torn by fear of the dragon and resolve for their cause. Nedgie kept her dull purple eyes on the lead sister, encouragement and strength pulsing soundlessly.
With palms up, Effie worked quickly, yet slow enough to be thorough. Casting a protection spell to the southern tops of Mozelle’s barrier, Effie lifted an arm slowly over her head, pulling an opaque cloak across the sky. Mozelle waved her hands, attaching the cloak to the spindly tops, and Nedgie lowered her palms, bringing the magic to the ground, both working as Effie continued stretching the veil across the center of the clearing.
Smoke thickened with every breath, suffocating the three, swirling in the madness as the wind increased with rage. A sudden shriek from above rattled the women, their ears splitting with pain. Effie’s heart pounded with fear, knowing he was so close and she was so weak. Then a different shriek, softer and muted under Mozelle’s wrap, followed the terrible monster’s cry. That same royal complaint surged Effie with resolve. She shook her muddled head, raven ringlets already flying, pushed through the stinging in her lungs and pulled the cloak to the northern tops.
Within seconds, Adjar pulled from his dive before crashing into the protective dome, enormous wings flapping slow and purposefully. Though the clearing was very visible moments ago, from an ariel view it turned back into the thick mess of ancient tree tops it had been before. After a moment of suspension, the winged creature chanced the spell and dove into the center head first. Tactfully, the massive reptile leaned to one side in order to cut through the magic just as he collided with the cloak. Immediately, the left side of his face burned with a heat equal to the stars, forcing him to pull back in pain, anger seething through his nostrils.
Effie, Nedgie, and a gently bouncing Mozelle tied off all magical ends of the cloak quickly, sealing themselves into solitude. Frustration plagued the dark creature, greed muting the pain of the burns as he darted from side to side, prodding the air with the tip of his pointed tail. The three below watched through their one-sided clear lens as Adjar blindly sought a weakness, grateful for their father’s incessant lessons in thoroughness. They instinctively pulled together, huddled in the center, hidden in a bubble that only allowed one direction viewing.
Steam rolled down his crackling back, as though anger could manifest in a physical form, and the wizard let out a deafening roar. In a final attempt to break the barrier, the mighty creature puffed out his chest, filling the massive lungs with polluted air, and struck with a fury. Fire poured from the open mouth, the blaze making contact with the dome, fighting fire with fire. The intensity of orange, red, and yellow lit the dark face of the dragon as flames bounced back, malevolence highlighted in the intense, beady eyes.
Finally, defeat crept over the flying beast, shrouding him ever so slowly like the dusk of a sweltering day. Soaring low, to the edge of the thick wall of spindly trunks, he lowered his massive frame until claws smothered the green, lush ground underfoot. The gigantic, jagged shape melted inward as the form of a man smoothed from the scales. Black leather vest opened to a broad, bare chest, leather pants and boots covering from hips down. Wounded, Adjar squinted in a moment of pain, face seared on the left, half of the immaculately trimmed and shaped beard gone, replaced by angry red skin. Hair, black as obsidian, remained obediently pulled behind his head, gathered into one thong over the other as the tips reached down his back. With the flick of a thick wrist the torrential winds found calm and the dragon’s smoke drifted off, the powerful wizard cutting the self-made chaos in order to concentrate.
Stepping forward, he stretched a hand towards the solid, branchy barricade, but retracted quickly at the sudden burning of flesh. Fists balled in frustration, muscles bulging with the strain, and he let out another shriek to the sky, this time the low, dull call of a man escaped his lips. Though not quite the high pitched shriek of a dragon, the sisters heard him all the same and looked to each other with terror and a hint of smugness.
With a nod and a pat, Effie stepped from her comfort, raised a small chin toward the man behind their barrier, and summoned fortitude. “Leave, Adjar,” she shouted, hoping the waver in her voice would be masked by volume.
“You stole what is mine. Give it back and I’ll leave you three mostly unharmed.”
The words sent a wave of shivers down her back, but Effie stood firm. “This babe never belonged to you.”
“We have stolen nones of your pocessionaries,” Mozelle squeaked before taking a step back.
Adjar scoffed, “You ignorant wenches! I care nothing for the child. You stole my revenge!” Anger raised his voice as he paced back and forth, seething. “You will return that child to his fate or face the dragon’s revenge tenfold!”
“We be not afraidly of no dragon,” Nedgie croaked, her voice raspy but firm. “Take yer threats somewheres else.”
Not accustomed to being bested, especially by such insignificant nothings, the great wizard felt the heat of outrage rising to an uncontrollable point. Fuming with hatred, he spat with disdain. “I shall leave now, but your victory will be short lived. That child must grow, and when the time comes your simple tricks will be worthless.” The man stepped back, darkly pliant. “Enjoy your sanctuary, or is it your prison?” With a sinister smirk, the man expanded into the form of the dragon again. Immediately he pushed off the ground, made one final lap around the cloak’s perimeter, then shot back through the sky, the echoing of a shriek left behind.
Standing together, the sisters watched as the malevolent beast disappeared from view, then slowly each lowered their gaze as realization dawned. “Well, that be the pits. We wins and all, but we paid dearily.” Nedgie gazed at the bare acre seeing little to smile about.
“I’m so verily sorry,” Effie spoke pitifully, staring at the blue sky so distant and clear. “All we loves is lost. Our world has been shattered into finite speckly pieces. A hefty price . . . ,”
“That we would gladingly pay again,” Mozelle interrupts gently. Violet eyes pointed down at the tiny head peeking from her wrap, a surprising amount of dark hair shooting upwards from his crown.
The heaviness of the moment washed from Effie’s shoulder’s and Nedgie gave a huff of consent as the three stood together. “I’m glad to see our sweetly Rett is wells enough.” The eldest reached up to brush aside the thick wool, exposing an impossibly tiny fist. “A noble, worthwhile chargery if I’d ever laid eyes on one.”
“Noble indeed,” Nedgie added, hoisting her sacks back over shoulders. “Time te plots a homestead. I’m thinking we needs a place grandly understated.”
“Don’t start designing without me,” Effie turned, releasing the miniature hand and swooping to her sister’s side. “We needs a sky light in my drawings room.”
Nedgie waved off the comment, focused on other areas. “The kitchen is where we starts. Where shall we plot the gardenry?”
Effie replied with equal offhandedness as they walked towards the far side leaving Mozelle with her thoughts.
The long limbed sister gazed over their new homestead, eyeing the cleared land and thicket barrier. Over the spindly tops thick oaks, elms, and other varieties of ancient trees stood tall and proud as part of the deep forest. Slowly, a smile infused with acceptance and possibilities grew on her face. Yes, this would do nicely to raise a king.
In ten heartbeats the second was there by her side, soundlessly sliding through the brush as if she were a woodland spirit. Together they stood, thick gloom muddying their vision while they looked back in their wake, shoulder to shoulder if their heights weren’t so different. The younger but taller sister breathed rapidly, wisps of long blonde tresses framing the reddened, sweat streaked face. Strands tickled her cheeks, but arms remained firmly curled around her midsection, fiercely protective.
Barely visible through the sky high greenery, billowing gray smoke continued it’s path of suffocation, consuming every bit of blue in view. “He’s getting closer,” Effie gasped, lowering her gaze back to the rude trail they had only just forged. Both pairs of violet eyes searched deep beyond the sea of darkening green, and her dark brows furrowed in will and concentration while her sister’s silken brows began to turn up in worry.
“Do you think she . . .,” Mozelle barely began to put words to thought before being cut off by the elder.
“No,” Effie stated with almost no doubt. “She’s coming.”
As if the words of the wiser were a summoning incantation, the heavy steps and crunching of undergrowth became louder. The visage of an unkempt woman with a nest of brown hair perched atop her head pushed through the curtain of shrubbery. Huffing, she wiped the brow of her homely face, yet the stocky frame remained sturdy under several sacks of additional supplies. Tromping through the foliage, not unlike the pack mule she resembled, Nedgie continued forward only barking a quick “Go!”. The command was immediately obeyed as Effie and Mozelle turned forward again, moving with purpose.
“Nedgie, you must keeps up,” Effie continued to pull her sister forward with words, throat becoming dry from the thick ashen air.
“Just keep yer own pacing and I’ll be up with ya,” the third called to the front of the line, never lifting eyes from the trail.
Hacking deep in her throat, Mozelle bounced, holding the middle position on light heels. “I can’t hardingly breath,” she gasped, the words raspy and strained. “Effie, we can’t keep this up.”
Stopping abruptly, a few boughs whipped back to sting Mozelle on the cheek. Immediately, a sharp pain bursted across the soft flesh, thin red marks left as a souvenir, but hands refused to release the bundled charge, even if it meant more switches to the face.
In three steps the charging Nedgie plowed into her sister’s backside, grunting a low complaint until her words were cut short by the innocent wail of a jostled baby. Bouncing quickly, bopping the underside of her parcel, Mozelle worked quickly to quiet the offended prince. Soft shhh sounds came from thin lips as she cooed the babe back into a rhythmic lull.
Staring forward, the smallest, determined sister could only see more thicket, the breeze quickly turning into a curl raising wind. “I’m sorry,” she spoke to the thousands of acres ahead. Turning to her waiting accomplices, she gave a defeated, apologetic frown. “We’re in over our heads,” her voice raised as the whirling around intensified. “He’s too powerfully. We cannot outrun him.”
Mozelle’s long arms tighten at the thought of Adjar swiping the tiny prince with his thick, solid talons. Her normally cheerful face hardened with resolve. “In the shape of a man or dragon, that wizard will never touch this child.”
“Stop the running,” Nedgie piped up matter-of-factly. “Let us use our abilitaries one last time.”
“We can’t,” Effie nearly shouted as her black hair flew in all directions. Even in the chaos, she held firm in her beliefs of rules and responsibilities.
Nedgie dropped her cargo, the noise of pots and trinkets lost in the whistle of confusion. “We mustly. If not . . . ,”
“Now!” Mozelle interrupted, solidifying the decision as the form of a dragon emerged from the suffocating cloud of it’s own smoke. Even from such a great distance, jagged scales and red eyes shone sinister in the pale light. Without another second of hesitation Nedgie lowered her hands to the earth. The fauna, whether furred or feathered, within a circular acre immediately heeded the warning given through an intense vibration pulsing from the palms. Every wing took flight, every hoof and claw scampered. Even the lowest of the low scattered on multiple minuscule legs leaving the surrounding area silent and still.
Only a second behind, Mozelle finally risked freeing her grip on the tiny body strapped to her chest, long, spindly arms working quickly. Waving hands in a controlled pattern, palms down, she cleared the same acreage of all shrubbery and flora. In the same moment, spindly shoots pushed through the earth all around the perimeter. Thousands of thin, young trees grew up from the ground, crammed together, making a thick, bristly wall impenetrable by body and sight. The tops of the enclosure rose far above their heads creating a magical barricade.
The actions of the the two sisters caused the evil beat in the air to hone in on their location, and he dove. Mozelle and Nedgie looked at their eldest sister in panic, and a little understanding as Effie stood torn between a vow. Keep the words or break them now?
“Now!” Mozelle yells uncharacteristically. “Effie! His life is worth it.”
Nedgie nods, her brown nest of hair swirling in the chaotic currents blowing all around. “We be in this together.” She spoke low, but the words carried.
With a nod of acceptance, Effie lifted her hands above her head. Adjar’s black wings were pulled back as he cut through the air like a searing steel blade. Mozelle kept turning her long neck back and forth, torn by fear of the dragon and resolve for their cause. Nedgie kept her dull purple eyes on the lead sister, encouragement and strength pulsing soundlessly.
With palms up, Effie worked quickly, yet slow enough to be thorough. Casting a protection spell to the southern tops of Mozelle’s barrier, Effie lifted an arm slowly over her head, pulling an opaque cloak across the sky. Mozelle waved her hands, attaching the cloak to the spindly tops, and Nedgie lowered her palms, bringing the magic to the ground, both working as Effie continued stretching the veil across the center of the clearing.
Smoke thickened with every breath, suffocating the three, swirling in the madness as the wind increased with rage. A sudden shriek from above rattled the women, their ears splitting with pain. Effie’s heart pounded with fear, knowing he was so close and she was so weak. Then a different shriek, softer and muted under Mozelle’s wrap, followed the terrible monster’s cry. That same royal complaint surged Effie with resolve. She shook her muddled head, raven ringlets already flying, pushed through the stinging in her lungs and pulled the cloak to the northern tops.
Within seconds, Adjar pulled from his dive before crashing into the protective dome, enormous wings flapping slow and purposefully. Though the clearing was very visible moments ago, from an ariel view it turned back into the thick mess of ancient tree tops it had been before. After a moment of suspension, the winged creature chanced the spell and dove into the center head first. Tactfully, the massive reptile leaned to one side in order to cut through the magic just as he collided with the cloak. Immediately, the left side of his face burned with a heat equal to the stars, forcing him to pull back in pain, anger seething through his nostrils.
Effie, Nedgie, and a gently bouncing Mozelle tied off all magical ends of the cloak quickly, sealing themselves into solitude. Frustration plagued the dark creature, greed muting the pain of the burns as he darted from side to side, prodding the air with the tip of his pointed tail. The three below watched through their one-sided clear lens as Adjar blindly sought a weakness, grateful for their father’s incessant lessons in thoroughness. They instinctively pulled together, huddled in the center, hidden in a bubble that only allowed one direction viewing.
Steam rolled down his crackling back, as though anger could manifest in a physical form, and the wizard let out a deafening roar. In a final attempt to break the barrier, the mighty creature puffed out his chest, filling the massive lungs with polluted air, and struck with a fury. Fire poured from the open mouth, the blaze making contact with the dome, fighting fire with fire. The intensity of orange, red, and yellow lit the dark face of the dragon as flames bounced back, malevolence highlighted in the intense, beady eyes.
Finally, defeat crept over the flying beast, shrouding him ever so slowly like the dusk of a sweltering day. Soaring low, to the edge of the thick wall of spindly trunks, he lowered his massive frame until claws smothered the green, lush ground underfoot. The gigantic, jagged shape melted inward as the form of a man smoothed from the scales. Black leather vest opened to a broad, bare chest, leather pants and boots covering from hips down. Wounded, Adjar squinted in a moment of pain, face seared on the left, half of the immaculately trimmed and shaped beard gone, replaced by angry red skin. Hair, black as obsidian, remained obediently pulled behind his head, gathered into one thong over the other as the tips reached down his back. With the flick of a thick wrist the torrential winds found calm and the dragon’s smoke drifted off, the powerful wizard cutting the self-made chaos in order to concentrate.
Stepping forward, he stretched a hand towards the solid, branchy barricade, but retracted quickly at the sudden burning of flesh. Fists balled in frustration, muscles bulging with the strain, and he let out another shriek to the sky, this time the low, dull call of a man escaped his lips. Though not quite the high pitched shriek of a dragon, the sisters heard him all the same and looked to each other with terror and a hint of smugness.
With a nod and a pat, Effie stepped from her comfort, raised a small chin toward the man behind their barrier, and summoned fortitude. “Leave, Adjar,” she shouted, hoping the waver in her voice would be masked by volume.
“You stole what is mine. Give it back and I’ll leave you three mostly unharmed.”
The words sent a wave of shivers down her back, but Effie stood firm. “This babe never belonged to you.”
“We have stolen nones of your pocessionaries,” Mozelle squeaked before taking a step back.
Adjar scoffed, “You ignorant wenches! I care nothing for the child. You stole my revenge!” Anger raised his voice as he paced back and forth, seething. “You will return that child to his fate or face the dragon’s revenge tenfold!”
“We be not afraidly of no dragon,” Nedgie croaked, her voice raspy but firm. “Take yer threats somewheres else.”
Not accustomed to being bested, especially by such insignificant nothings, the great wizard felt the heat of outrage rising to an uncontrollable point. Fuming with hatred, he spat with disdain. “I shall leave now, but your victory will be short lived. That child must grow, and when the time comes your simple tricks will be worthless.” The man stepped back, darkly pliant. “Enjoy your sanctuary, or is it your prison?” With a sinister smirk, the man expanded into the form of the dragon again. Immediately he pushed off the ground, made one final lap around the cloak’s perimeter, then shot back through the sky, the echoing of a shriek left behind.
Standing together, the sisters watched as the malevolent beast disappeared from view, then slowly each lowered their gaze as realization dawned. “Well, that be the pits. We wins and all, but we paid dearily.” Nedgie gazed at the bare acre seeing little to smile about.
“I’m so verily sorry,” Effie spoke pitifully, staring at the blue sky so distant and clear. “All we loves is lost. Our world has been shattered into finite speckly pieces. A hefty price . . . ,”
“That we would gladingly pay again,” Mozelle interrupts gently. Violet eyes pointed down at the tiny head peeking from her wrap, a surprising amount of dark hair shooting upwards from his crown.
The heaviness of the moment washed from Effie’s shoulder’s and Nedgie gave a huff of consent as the three stood together. “I’m glad to see our sweetly Rett is wells enough.” The eldest reached up to brush aside the thick wool, exposing an impossibly tiny fist. “A noble, worthwhile chargery if I’d ever laid eyes on one.”
“Noble indeed,” Nedgie added, hoisting her sacks back over shoulders. “Time te plots a homestead. I’m thinking we needs a place grandly understated.”
“Don’t start designing without me,” Effie turned, releasing the miniature hand and swooping to her sister’s side. “We needs a sky light in my drawings room.”
Nedgie waved off the comment, focused on other areas. “The kitchen is where we starts. Where shall we plot the gardenry?”
Effie replied with equal offhandedness as they walked towards the far side leaving Mozelle with her thoughts.
The long limbed sister gazed over their new homestead, eyeing the cleared land and thicket barrier. Over the spindly tops thick oaks, elms, and other varieties of ancient trees stood tall and proud as part of the deep forest. Slowly, a smile infused with acceptance and possibilities grew on her face. Yes, this would do nicely to raise a king.
