For a Fox Can Weep, by Carmen Redondo

Editor’s note: Oh the travails of a lonely fox! This unique fable really involves the emotions. We brought you this magical story on a Saturday, because we’ve got lots of great material these days. Enjoy!

Mackson was a fox who wanted nothing more than to share his life with a vixen he could call his wife. He had little friends, relying on the company of Veslorm, the wise owl.  

 

One evening Mackson went outside to sit by the river and observe the stars. His ears twitched to the side as he heard a tree branch rustle beside him. Mackson glanced up and saw that Veslorm had landed in a nearby tree.  

 

Veslorm ruffled his feathers. “The forest is too quiet tonight, and I am rather bored. To pass the time I came to see how you were.” 

 

Mackson responded with a grave voice. “Speaking honestly Veslorm, each day I find it very difficult to live without a wife I can love.”  

 

“My friend,” began the owl, “I have a possible solution for you. You may not like it though, for it involves the help of an herbalist.” 

Mackson turned to look at the owl. “Are you speaking of Lady Fazena, the only human who lives in the forest? Many believe she is a witch.”   

 

“Witch or not,” responded Veslorm, “She deals with salves and potions. Mackson, I believe she could help you. I do offer a warning. If you go, be cautious of her words. I must be leaving now, for I am very hungry.”  

 

The next day the fox walked at a fast pace, the fur on the back of his neck standing on end with anticipation. Mackson finally arrived at his destination. The herbalist’s house seemed to be made out of forest ivy.  

 

“Lady Fazena! If I may call upon you, I am Mackson, a forest fox.”  

 

The ivy parted and revealed an entrance. Mackson took a deep breath and went inside. What he saw was curious, a house filled with strange objects he had never seen before.  

 

Sitting near a warm fireplace was a slender woman. She had long auburn hair that fell around her in a waterfall of ringlets against her pale skin. Her dress was the same enchanting color of her hair. She turned around to look at the fox, stood, and smiled kindly, yet with an evasive touch. 

 

“Welcome, Mackson the fox. What may I do for you?” 

 

“I would like,” he began nervously, “To have a wife.” 

Fazena laughed, “But you are a handsome fox. I should think you do not need my assistance in finding a companion.”  

 

He continued explaining. “It is not so simple. There are no females that remain unwed.”  

 

“I see. If this is the case, I can help you, but I need something from you.” 

 

She suddenly cut a small patch of his fur and put the hairs in a pot that was boiling with a few twigs of rosemary and tarragon.  

 

“Now,” she sang, “This is for you.” 

 

Fazena clapped her hands as a golden locket with a matching chain appeared out of thin air. She placed it on the floor in front of the fox.  

 

“Excuse me madam, but what is this?”  

 

“A love locket. Your future bride will arrive tomorrow morning. Put this jewel around her neck as a sign of commitment. This will be proof that you care about her. If you require nothing else from me, leave, for I am busy.”  

 

He thanked her several times and took the necklace between his teeth. Once outside he ran to his home, not glancing behind him.  

 

As soon as the sun appeared the next day a beautiful vixen was standing by the log where he usually rested during the day. She said her name was Ofenta, and the next several days passed as if in a dream.

One evening they shared their first kiss, and he knew that his heart would always be hers. He ran to his home and returned with the locket.  

 

Speaking with joy he asked, “My dearest Ofenta, will you be my wife?”  

 

“Of course, Mackson. I would like nothing more.”  

 

He placed the locket around her neck, and she vanished, the necklace landing on the floor. Panicking, he ran in the direction of Lady Fazena’s house. 

 

Once there he yelled, “Lady Fazena, let me in!”   

 

The ivy parted as before. Pacing, he explained everything, feeling an unsteady dread. When he finished speaking the witch laughed. 

 

“Oh Mackson,” she mocked with a fierce smile, “Her disappearance was all part of the potion. She would have been by your side forever if you had not given her the locket. It was a way to test your self-confidence. Now farewell fox, you will not find me again.”  

 

She disappeared. Mackson stood breathing heavily with rage. He ran back to the locket, where it laid motionless on the grass. His anger was replaced by a deep melancholy. Mackson started crying endless tears. For a fox can weep, just as much as anyone else. The tears continued, creating a puddle on the grass. 

As this happened, his eyes lost their orange color and were replaced by a dark gray. Mackson collapsed as his heart stopped beating. For a fox can also die of a broken heart. Next to his lifeless body, the puddle glowed with the color his eyes once had, turning into amber. 

 

For some say that amber comes from tree resin, but in truth it was born from the tears of a fox that could not live without his one true love.

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This story was brought to you by Lorraine Schein, one of our very generous patrons. Without donations like Lorraine’s, we can’t keep EC going as a place for many new tales and poems. Please become a patron. You can learn more here.

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Bio: Carmen Redondo loves fantasy and fairy tales, which are elements she often includes in her writing. She loves reading books and watching movies. You can follow Carmen on Twitter: @storieswriting. You can purchase a book that includes two of her short stories here: https://amzn.to/2TP0z0L

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Image from Pixabay.

FAIRY TALE FLASH - My Thoughts on the Breeze by Carmen Redondo

Tell us of how Mother
saved you on this very seashore...

”Often, I wonder what became of her. Every day I follow my duties as a prince, knowing that one day I will be king. My wife and I are very happy, raising our children and taking them for walks by the ocean. They often ask me to tell them the story of when I was shipwrecked and almost drowned.

“Tell us of how Mother saved you on this very seashore,” they beg.

I always laugh and oblige, despite the fact that they have heard the tale many times. I explain to them that I was found in the sea and brought to rest here. I faintly remembered the face of the maiden who rescued me, but I could not find her. Later, my parents found a princess I was to marry and when I saw her I knew she was the one who had restored me to life.

I love seeing our children’s happy faces when they hear how content I was to find her, their mother, but there is one thing they do not know. Every time I tell them this a part of me thinks back to the other maiden I met before my wife. She was charming, and she reminded me so much of my rescuer, but I could not make myself believe it was her. When I met the princess, who became my wife I realized that indeed I was correct about the other maiden, she had not been the one.

I had started giving up hope on finding my beautiful heroine, and I had even thought that I would marry the young girl who had become my friend and was always so kind to me. I wish I knew why she was unable to speak. I never heard her voice. The last time I saw the mysterious maiden was out at sea during my wedding. I was filled with joy to be married to my princess but every time I glanced back to look at my friend her face seemed so sad.

When the sun rose the following morning, my wife and I could not find her. She had vanished overnight. We looked out to the ocean, and the crew searched, but she was never seen again. Surely, she must have drowned for there was no other explanation of her disappearance.

Now I stand next to my wife, smiling at my children’s laughter as they play in the sand. Every single time I think about the long-lost maiden a gentle breeze passes through me, as if in comfort. Perhaps the wind carries her truth. Again, I wonder what became of her.   

Carmen Redondo loves fantasy and fairy tales, which are elements she often includes in her writing. She loves reading a good book, watching a new movie, enjoying warm weather, and eating pizza. She is currently writing her first full-length novel. You can purchase a book that includes two of her short stories here: https://amzn.to/2TP0z0L

You can follow Carmen on Twitter: @storieswriting

Cover: Amanda Bergloff @AmandaBergloff

SEAMSTRESS AND BREAD by Carmen Redondo

Twice through the loop,

out goes the thread,

once down the needle,

one piece of bread…

Twice through the loop, out goes the thread, once down the needle, one piece of bread.

I repeat this mantra over and over in my head, reminding myself what I must do. I need to finish the prince’s shirt, so I can receive my food, just one piece of bread. I was hungry, starving in my bones, which made me steal apples from the palace orchard. I was caught and thrown in the dungeon.

When the guards found out who I was they said to me, “Apricot, town seamstress, you will make a fine shirt for the prince. In return you shall have one piece of bread to settle your hunger. If the prince likes the shirt, he may be forgiving and let you go.”

That was two days ago, and since then I have been living on water. I glance at the shirt in my hands, praying to myself that the prince will like it. I feel weak with hunger, the urge to faint coming and going from starvation as I worry that my craftsmanship is poor.

Lately, poverty spread like wildfire, leaving me without work. No one needs new clothes. As money quickly disappears I ran out of food which made me think I could stupidly take the apples. The orchard is located outside of the prince’s castle, so he does not have the right to claim the fruit as his, but that is the way life is.

My eyelids feel heavy and my head starts leaning forward. It is very difficult to fight sleep when I have nothing fueling my body. As I start to fade into unconsciousness a piercing pain jolts me awake. I look at my left hand and see a tiny trail of blood on my thumb. The needle must have stabbed my finger when I was falling over with sleep.

I took a piece of cloth and wrapped it around the small wound. I could not risk blood dripping into the shirt and ruining what I had done. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing myself to continue.

Twice through the loop, out goes the thread, once down the needle, one piece of bread.

That night I finish the shirt and a few moments later the weakness swallows me up as I faint, collapsing on the floor in a heap of despair.

After several hours, I awake to find that water has been thrown on my face. One of the palace guards is standing outside of the dungeon gate.

“Wake up seamstress, you shall be taken to see the prince now.”

I slowly sit up as my head throbs with pain from hunger. My mouth feels dry and I wonder how I will force myself to walk to the throne room to greet the prince. Before I have time to think anything else the guard opens the gate with a key, storms into the cell, grabs my arm forcefully, and pulls me up.

“Did you hear what I said, you filthy peasant? The prince will see you now. Start walking before I am forced to whip you for lack of cooperation.”

I nod, not daring to look at the guard. Picking up the shirt I limp out of the cell, stumbling slightly. The guard marches behind me, pushing me every few steps. I realize that in order to leave the dungeon I have to go up a long staircase. Swallowing down a lump in my throat I start walking up the stairs and once again lose my step. The guard holds his hands out to catch me before I fall.

“Peasant, I will not help you again! If I see you are about to fall, I will let you. Go up the staircase, you dirty thief.”

I continue, tears burning in my eyes. I hate being called a thief. I had never stolen anything in my life and I curse myself for having taken the apples, which I never even had time to eat before I was caught. Every single one was returned.

The endless staircase finally comes to a stop and then the guard takes hold of my left arm.

“I shall take you to the prince now. I cannot have you walking slowly. Either keep up or I am dragging you by this skinny arm.”

Off we go as I struggle to keep up with his pace. My arm hurts from his strong grip while my right hand is clutching the shirt. I am terrified that I will drop it. I look down at myself, filthy from the dungeon. I have not bathed in days and surely smell awful. This is no way to meet the prince and I fear this will make him reject the shirt, sending me back to the dungeon without food or freedom. I start shivering because my hair is cold and wet from the water that was splashed on my face.

The guard shoves my arm, “Quit shaking thief, the prince does not like weakness!”

After an eternity we reach our destination. I see a young man sitting on the throne, the prince, and my heart starts beating with an agonizing fear. When we are close the guard stops and I do too. He finally lets go of my arm, which I feel will develop a bruise from his grip of steel. I look at the floor, not daring to make eye contact with the prince. I curtsy out of respect, almost falling from the effort. Everything seems to spin, and I tell myself to stay awake. I cannot faint in front of him.

Twice through the loop, out goes the thread, once down the needle, one piece of bread.

“Seamstress?”

A deep masculine voice belonging to the prince fills the room.

“Seamstress? I am speaking to you.”

I take a deep breath, “Yes, your majesty?”

My voice comes out as a whisper, resulting very difficult to talk with the dryness in my mouth.

“Seamstress standing before me, look at me this instant.”

I slowly look up to see the prince. He is dressed in the finest clothes, with a dazzling crown on his head. His figure is tall and strong, with a very handsome face… an unforgiving face.

He nods slowly and points a finger at the shirt.

“Bring me the shirt.”

I walk over and hand it to him quickly, standing back and taking my place.

He extends the shirt, looking over it carefully. I hold my breath and hope he accepts it.

The prince looks at me, “Seamstress Apricot, I accept this shirt.”

I gasp, “Oh, thank you sir.”

He snaps his fingers, “Servants, fetch a piece of bread for Apricot.”

I look down and force myself to speak what I know I must say.

“Thank you, your highness. May I have my freedom as well?”

I slowly glance up and wait for his response.

“Apricot, I hope you will never leave.”

My eyes widen, “Your majesty?”

“Apricot, your beauty is famous throughout the land. I could not believe my good fortune when I was informed that you were in the dungeon. I am in love with you, body and soul. Will you marry me?”

It takes me a moment to process his ridiculous words. A sudden courage fills my body and I am able to speak despite the hunger that is eating me away.

“Your highness, I will not marry you. I do not believe that you love me. If you did, you would not have left me starving in the dungeon. You would not have had me slaving away making your shirt. You would also have told your guard not to treat me in such a harsh manner. I apologize for trying to take the apples and that is all. I want my freedom.”

He frowned, “How do you even know I will let you leave?”

“You said you loved me. You should not want to keep me as a prisoner.”

“I thought I loved you. Now I am not so sure. Fine, have your freedom. I shall let you live free with the knowledge that you could have been my princess. You will learn to regret your decision and that shall be your eternal punishment. If you steal any apples again you will be thrown in the dungeon and you will stay there forever.”

A servant suddenly arrived with a piece of bread that was handed to me. Ignoring that I was still in front of the prince, I devour it instantly. Immediately I feel better but I am still very hungry.  

The prince motioned to a guard, “Escort this peasant out of my palace.”

Once again, I was taken by the arm until we reached the castle gates where I was shoved towards the exit. Outside, I breathe freely, feeling happy that I am liberated. I start walking home, aching to bathe and feel clean. My stomach feels empty as I worry because no food and very little money will be waiting for me. I at least feel content with one thing. I refused the prince because I realized he was not kind. No one will ever be able to take that away from me.

Twice through the loop, out goes the thread, once down the needle, one piece of bread.

Carmen Redondo loves fantasy and fairy tales, which are elements she often includes in her writing. She loves reading a good book, watching a new movie, enjoying warm weather, and eating pizza. She is currently writing her first full-length novel. You can purchase a book that includes two of her short stories here: https://amzn.to/2TP0z0L

You can follow Carmen on Twitter @storieswriting  

Cover: Amanda Bergloff @AmandaBergloff

DOUBLE FAIRY TALE FLASH - Dark Bat, Bright Bat AND When Indigo Left the Rainbow

Summer and rainbows go together...
This week, Enchanted Conversation presents two tales that feature the beauty of rainbows.

Dark Bat, Bright Bat retold by C.L. Clickard

and 

When Indigo Left the Rainbow by Carmen Redondo

We hope you enjoy them and share your thoughts

with the authors of these tales in the comments section below.

In the time when animals spoke and we remembered to listen,
there was no animal uglier than Bat.

Coconut palms cradled chattering higuaca birds.
Waterfalls welcomed the heron’s dance.
Tiny humming guani fluttered in the golden vines.
But Bat huddled alone in the shadows
loved by no one.

On a morning, shimmering green and hot,
Bat swooped to the hut of Yaya
the great creator.

“See, how my wings are bent with cold
and my back is slick from rain?
I want a fine warm coat of feathers!”

Yaya had no feathers left in his basket.
“I will borrow one feather from each of your brothers.”
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet

Ruffling his new coat,
Bat swooped over the forest.
“No one can call me ugly now!”

Each day,
after the sun soaked up the afternoon rain,
Bat soared and swirled through the clouds.
And the sky echoed his colors

All the forest stopped to admire Bat’s new skin.
He peered down at his brothers’ gaping bills and beaks.
“Look at the holes in your coats!” Bat smirked.
“None of you is as beautiful as I am now!”

Click. Clack. Bills and beaks snapped shut.
“We did not give our feathers
so that he could brag!”

With a squawk and a snort
the birds flew to Yaya’s hut
“Bat makes fun of us,” they complained.
“And we miss our feathers!”

Yaya stirred his cook pot.
“I hear you little brothers.”

The next day Bat swooped across the sky.
He swelled his chest
shook his wings
and PLOOF!
A rain of feathers fell on the forest.

“Noooooooooo!”

All that day, while the sun
smiled down on the forest
Bat huddled in his cave,
covering his nakedness with shadow.

When the sun fell asleep that night
Bat darted over the treetops
searching for his lost feathers.

He’s looking for them still.

But the only one who remembers
Bat’s beautiful feathered coat
is the sky after a midday rain.

Carrie L. Clickard is an internationally published author and poet.  Her books include MAGIC FOR SALE (Holiday House, 2017), DUMPLING DREAMS (Simon and Schuster 2017), VICTRICIA MALICIA (Flashlight Press) and the forthcoming THOMAS JEFFERSON & THE MAMMOTH HUNT (Simon and Schuster, 2019). Her poetry and short stories have appeared in numerous anthologies and periodicals including Andromeda Spaceways, Havok, Myriad Lands, Spellbound, Penumbra, Muse, Haiku of the Dead and Underneath the Juniper Tree.

You can learn more about Carrie & her work at www.clclickard.com.

Cover: Amanda Bergloff

The seven spirits came together as always to create a rainbow. When Mother Sky told them that a rainbow was in order for Earth, they listened and glided along the clouds. Red led the way followed by Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet. Far below, humans glanced up to the heavens, admiring the glorious rainbow.

As they flew in place, holding their position next to Mother Sky’s guidance, Indigo looked down at the Earth. He often wondered what it would be like to live among the humans. Suddenly, mother told them their task was finished for now, and the siblings dispersed, ending the rainbow.

Indigo flew to his mother and spoke of his wish to join the humans. He asked for a way to live below on Earth. She pondered the matter with Father Sun and together decided to allow their son’s request. Indigo was to take the form of a young man and live among the humans for one year.

Before he left she said to him, “Indigo, you will learn the significance of why you create rainbows with your brothers and sisters. When you return, you will have gained wisdom.”

With this spoken, he became human. Indigo found a home with an elderly couple and worked all day among their field, as payment for a room and food. He learned what physical labor meant, often chopping wood under the warmth of Father Sun up above.

One evening after the rain, he saw a rainbow. The kind man he lived with squinted up, his many wrinkles forming creases that signified days of happiness and sorrow. His wife was also looking up to the sky, which made Indigo curious to find out what they were thinking.

“Excuse me,” Indigo asked, “Do you like the rainbow?”

The wise woman smiled and said, “Well, it is something remarkable. My husband and I like to think of it as a reminder that life is very precious. It also makes you forget about your troubles, if you have any. I will say though, it seems as if a color is missing lately, but my eyes are not what they used to be after all.”

Indigo nodded in silence. He had never thought of his job in that way. He always thought that rainbows were merely created to look beautiful, and nothing else.

From then on, he kept gaining knowledge as his mother said he would. He enjoyed every second of his time on Earth, until the year was over and he returned to his home. United with his family, he discovered a respect for the immortal requirement of creating rainbows. Each time he flew next to his siblings, he hoped humans below were glancing up and feeling an ease to their burdens, if only for a moment.

Carmen Redondo loves fantasy and fairy tales, which are elements she often includes in her writing. She loves reading a good book, watching a new movie, warm weather, and eating pizza.

You can follow her on Twitter: @storieswriting  

Cover: Amanda Bergloff

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Fairy Tale Flash Monday - The Princess Who Wanted Nothing and Everything

What is the gift 
of nothing and everything?

There was once a beautiful princess named Epiphany who lived with her parents, the king and queen of the kingdom. The king had decided it was time for her to be married and announced that the princes of all the lands come forth to see who was worthy of his daughter’s hand. The princess did not want to marry just any prince. Epiphany wanted to marry someone who was kind. She told her father that she would only marry a young man who came offering a special present for her.

When the king asked her what she would ask from them she responded, “I want nothing and everything.”

The king was flustered but decided to go along with his daughter’s wishes. He announced alongside the queen that all possible suitors must bring a present containing nothing and everything.

Soon afterwards princes began to arrive. The first ten all brought approximately the same thing. Trunks filled with jewelry, silk dresses, gold coins, spices, and perfume were presented to Epiphany.

Upon observing their offerings she responded, “You have brought everything, but you did not bring nothing. Therefore, I cannot marry you.”

The next ten hopeful princes brought nothing. One by one they greeted the king, queen, and the Princess Epiphany with empty hands.

She said to them, “You brought nothing, but you did not bring everything. Therefore, I cannot marry you.”

Many more princes came but they all received rejections. The king and queen began to feel nervous as they worried that no prince would be the correct one.

As everyone despaired, one morning changed everything. A handsome prince named Seldry was presented. He was humble and seemed trustworthy.

“Princess Epiphany, it is an honor to meet you,” he began. “I bring you a present that I hope you will enjoy.”

He opened his hand to show the gift. The princess and her parents leaned forward in their seats and squinted but could not see anything.

“I knew it,” sighed the king. “This one is no different than the others. He has brought nothing!”

Epiphany was not so sure. She felt he was different than the other princes.

Seldry spoke again, “Forgive me, but I did bring a gift. What I have in my hand is very small.” He walked closer so they could see.

He continued, “This is a seed for a tree that will bring delicious fruit when it is grown. From the fruit, more seeds will come which can be used to plant more trees. As the years pass, the gardens of this kingdom will have a grand orchard. By then this present would have turned into everything, such as food or shade, and even more. So you see, I brought nothing, accompanied with a promise for everything.”

Epiphany smiled with joy, “Prince Seldry, you have brought nothing and everything. Therefore, I can marry you.”

The king and queen rejoiced, and soon, the young couple was wed with a promise to care for their orchard together.

Carmen Redondo took several writing courses during her college career where she enjoyed learning about different styles of writing. She has always loved reading fairy tales, incorporating elements of fantasy and magic in her writing. She has a soft spot for fairy tales that are sweet love stories.

Story Graphics: Amanda Bergloff