Dawn light broke through the reaching, inky fingers of the trees.
Though summer was barely waning, the forest stood denuded of its leaves, as it always had. As it always would.
The villagers had long stopped questioning why their wood did not bud and bloom and turn with the seasons. They knew it still lived, suspended in its own eternal moment of magic.
On the hottest of summer days, stepping into the shade of those trees you would find yourself engulfed in the chill of winter’s breath. Nothing moved; nothing grew; no birds sang; and yet the beauty of those bare black limbs stretched across the land, a frosty rime clinging to them in diamond chains, was enough to stir the soul.
Here the Winter King ruled all the year, his magic great and terrible. The lore told that he never left the wood, until it was winter’s turn to walk the world, but this August dawn glinted on a betrayal of tradition: a trail of frost that escaped the forest and touched the nearest cottage.
Within, two sisters, who had lived and loved some thirty years in their home which hugged the Winter King’s realm, now held a new repose: one sat regal, crowned in snowflakes, the other lay lifeless, an icicle through her heart.
“You’re a storyteller. Dream up something wild and improbable,” she pleaded. “Something beautiful and full of monsters.”
Strange The Dreamer by Laini Taylor
Inspired by Erin Morgenstern’s Flax-Golden Tales, I have decided to embark on my own creative writing blog series, “Wild & Improbable Tales”, as a way to write more freely and more frequently. At least once a week, I will choose a card at random from The School Of Life‘s ‘Small Pleasures’ box and use the image and/or writing on the back to inspire a short piece of creative writing. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.