There Was Little Enough Inspiration to be Had in the Garden

This is my response to a prompt I came up with for Writer Zen Garden, or one of four responses. I ended up writing four entirely different responses for four different characters, each of them in the same garden. One for Mel/yssa Ashelocke I posted at the Writer Zen Garden. One for Dayell is at my Facebook Author Page. One is for Leiwell at the Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration at blogger. This one is for Danyell.

Each of these characters are in ‘A Godling for Your Thoughts?’, my NaNoWriMo project in November. ‘A Godling for Your Thoughts?’ is the sequel to ‘The Hand and the Eye of the Tower’ and ‘Stealing Myself From Shadows’.

“There was little enough inspiration to be had in the garden. At least, that was what Damian always thought,” Christopher said, with a slight shrug. “He thought all the magic in his art came from me, or himself.” His smile turned a little wistful, when he gazed at the golden flowers, radiant with reflected sunlight.

Danyell wished Christopher would give into his urge, which made his nose and fingers quiver. To take a step closer to the flower bed and breathe in their fragrance. Such an action would probably kill the poor plants. The darkness inside Christopher would wither them in an instant. Danyell hoped he’d transformed the darkness within his former friend/enemy into something less malign, but Christopher wasn’t going to take any chances. Not when his breath could kill something small and fragile.

“Some of the magic came from you, too!” Danyell said, shaking his head. His curls whipped around, hitting his cheeks, almost stinging his eyes. “Damian wasn’t completely wrong!”
“Damian was wrong about many things, though,” Christopher said, with a sigh. He gestured towards the garden. “He was very like your brothers in that. Both of your brothers.”

He nodded towards an empty space, where the flowers bowed sleepily to someone unseen.

Where were his brothers? Surely, they should be in the garden with him. Most of Omphalos was here from his family to the new residents, picking vegetables. Where was everybody?

“Dayell?” he asked, only to have his vision of the garden, Christopher, and his own loneliness disappear. Dayell was standing right next to him. Rubbing his dirty hands. Scowling with a face that was exactly like Danyell’s, only there were bright flecks of silver in violet blue irises. “Are you all right?”

“As right as an empty green field, before the angry earth cracks it in two,” Dayell muttered. When his twin was uneasy and mistrustful of the company, he talked in riddles. Fortunately, Danyell had gotten pretty good at figuring out what he was talking about. “These strangers brought the anger with them.”

“Meaning something bad is going to happen to Omphalos,” Danyell murmured. It wasn’t too surprising. Leiwell had kept this little corner of the world protected through shadow magic. Such actions always had a price in stories. Danyell doubted reality would be that different.


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