Touching Grass Isn't Enough We Should Be Staging Small Community Productions Of Shakespeare

Powerful Duo, Arthur lives and knows

Cover for Ray Bradbury's : 'The Autumn People' by Frank Frazetta, 1975.

Thanks @liviapeleia for tagging me, your wip excerpts made me very curious to know what's next :D!

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Tagging @breadkween, @achillesuwu and @futurepastme if you're interested! Your word should you choose to accept it is FISH!

Livia you gave me 'myth.'

M

“Merlin is a-” 

But he knew, he had known for a long time. 

Across from him his servant looked like a startled hare, wide-eyed, gaunt in the dim light. The thing they had not been saying had almost been said. Did Merlin think that just because it was said aloud that suddenly Arthur would change his mind, have him executed? 

Instead he made a show of sagging in relief and Merlin hesitated and then sagged with him. 

Y

“You’re lying. You have something you must do, something that might help me. Maybe it'll turn the tide of this battle.” 

“Arthur-”

“Whatever you're about to say, let it be the truth for once. I need to hear it, finally hear it. How many years has it been? We never spoke about your magic, not once, not really, not like we should have.” 

“My-?” 

“It’s said now, I don't care, not anymore. I can't go into this battle without you, not unless I know it’s for a good cause and not unless I know that you’ll be safe.” 

T

“The spitting, what's that then?”

“To ward off curses! Anyone can do it!”

“The asphodel?” 

“The dead need appeasing!” Merlin threw his hands in the air and then towards Arthur. “You’ve seen the ghost of your father, you've fought the undead!” 

Arthur was throwing his hands too now. “The cabbage leaves? Prophetic dreams have to be sorcerery?!” 

“Yes but not the kind you get from cabbage leaves!” 

H

He is the custodian of our stories, the golden age we brought about together and he’ll be the custodian of the stories after I’m gone, learn them from him, help him to hold them and share them, I think some days he might find them too heavy to carry.

He’s the most powerful and the most precious thing to ever walk this Earth, it would be a tragedy too immense to imagine or bear thinking about if he lost what made him human. But more than that, I ask you to do this, to pass on this message to those who come after you because I love him and I cannot do all of these things myself. 

“It is extraordinary that nobody nowadays under the stress of great troubles is turned into stone or a bird or a tree or some inanimate object; they used to undergo such metamorphoses in ancient times (or so they say), though whether that is myth or a true story I know not. Maybe it would be better to change one’s nature into something that lacks all feeling, rather than be so sensitive to evil. Had that been possible, these calamities would in all probability have turned me to stone.”

— The Alexiad, written by Anna Komnene, the daughter of the Byzantine Emperor Alexios I Komnenos, c. 1148.

I wish there were medieval fantasy written by people who actually found the medieval period interesting

Eugene gets me

periods are medieval honestly. like sorry I got suicidal last night turns out I had too much blood in me. yeah no some of it fell out and I'm fine now.

alas, poor knight

Winter (January, Cycle of the Months), c.1404-07 by Master Wenceslas 

Trento, Castello del Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquilla (The Eagle’s Tower)