Category Archives: fairies
Critical Characters in My Fiction
Filed under artwork, characters, colored pencil, fairies, humor, illustrations, Paffooney, pen and ink, Uncategorized
The Education of Poppensparkle… Canto 1
Canto 1 – Poppy’s New Digs
It was hard to get her eyes open on that first morning. The White Stag had taken away all the memories of her abuse at the hands of the evil Necromancer, but that hadn’t kept her from having nightmares of nameless terrors stalking her in the darkness. And she wasn’t used to sleeping in a soft bed in the Palace of Cair Tellos, the Willowcastle and Capitol of all of Tellosia.
She rubbed at both of her eyes. She yawned extra large. She then used the reverse of the Wingaway Spell to restore her butterfly wings. She was still naked, and seriously planning to go out like that, looking forward to a nude sky-dance in the morning sunlight. But the enchanted clothing, top and bottom, were still there where Tod had placed them the night before. They were blue and lighter blue with yellow spots on them, a match for the colors of her butterfly wings. But never in her life before had she been forced to wear clothing. Not even the Necromancer was that cruel. Butterfly Children were Fairies made for flying unencumbered by clothing, armor, or any other bindings. They were magical beings meant for a life of joy and unbound freedom.
“So, you are awake,” Tod said, poking his head into the chamber where she had slept.
“Yes. But I’m not happy. Why do I have to be a wizard’s apprentice? And why do I have to wear clothing?”
Tod was a fairly ordinary-looking Sylph with brown hair and large, soulful brown eyes. And he never answered fast, always apparently thinking of all the possible answers before saying anything. That was nothing like the evil Necromancer. He started every answer with a yell, a threat, and an impossibly difficult order.
“When your sister and the White Stag rescued you, you were found to have considerable magical power in your little blond brain. That means you have value. And the White Stag decided to give you to Master Pippen in order to train you with those valuable skills.”
“So, is it like being a student, or more like a slave?”
“Well, I’m the Castle Steward, not an apprentice myself. But from what I can see, it is more like being a slave. But a valuable slave. You will be treated well if you continue to obey.”
“So, I’m to be constantly whipped and told how bad I am. I knew it! How about answering the question about the clothes?”
“I am well aware that Fairies prefer to be nude and natural. But Master Pippen believes that leaves you vulnerable. Everyone who lives in the upper reaches of the Willow Castle must wear magical clothing. One piece to protect you from mind-reading and mind-control. And another piece to protect you from possession, like the Necromancer did to you in the final battle.”
She wanted to beat him with her fists because it seemed so unfair. She had been a slave to the Necromancer, and now that she was free of him for the first time in her life, she would be a slave to Master Pippen. And beating Tod with fists was entirely unworkable as a plan. He was a full three inches tall and stood over her by more than half an inch. And he had training in both hand-to-hand combat and blade combat. She would never land a single light-fisted girly blow.
She picked up the clothing to look at it more closely. It was a two-piece suit, the top part, which would cover her smallish breasts bore the pentagram of wizard-armor. And the blue bottoms that would cover her sit-down parts were stitched with soul-sealing designs. The clothes were much like a Slow One’s swimsuit, the kind the gigantic Slow-One females called a “bikini.” She guessed she could wear something that small since it was made in a way that would not interfere with her butterfly wings.
“I’m going to look ugly in this thing.”
“Try it on. Let’s see.”
She put both parts on with some awkwardness, not being at all used to the idea of wearing clothes.
‘You are actually quite pretty to look at wearing that,” said Tod with a simple smile.
She still felt like smacking him, but the compliment was not unwelcome.
“This place is going to take some getting used to. It’s not like Mortimer’s Mudwallow in any way. I don’t know how to live in a castle or a royal court. Master Pippen will have my head chopped off before the week is out.”
“Poppy, his reputation isn’t really the way he is. He only executes Fairies if they break a minor law or make him really angry for some reason. And besides, I am told you are my responsibility for the time being. Only two of the five apprentices I have taken care of got beheaded. Oh, and one exploded during a magical experiment on the roof. But the odds are still… well, not entirely against you.”
“You should ask my sister, Derfentwinkle, about how that will probably go. I was always annoying or arguing with the Necromancer. And he was a scary and cruel master. Just not as into executions as Master Pippen obviously is.”
“You don’t need to worry overmuch. Both Glittershine and I will be nearby to help you.”
“Who is Glittershine? Have I met him or her yet?”
“You have not… or you would remember. She’s a Butterfly Child like you, but one experienced with Fairy magic and potions.”
“When do I meet her?”
“Now, since you’re awake and dressed. Master Pippen is expecting all of us in the sunroom.”
Poppensparkle was not wild about this new life that had been thrust upon her. But it was better than the painful abuse the stinky old Necromancer had heaped upon her… At least, she dearly hoped that it would be .
Sudden Inspiration
I have been searching for a way to continue my Tuesday novel-writing posts with a novel different from my main work in progress. It sort-of solved the problem with a sudden realization that since fairies bewitched my novel-writing process in the making of The Necromancer’s Apprentice, I might as well pick up a thread from that novel.
PoppenSparkle is the character rescued from the dungeon in the previous book. She had absolutely no chance to shine in that book. Released from captivity by evil fairies, she is the sister of Derfentwinkle, a butterfly child, and gifted with wizard ability.
Every student wizard has to be assigned to a master wizard to learn the truth about magic. And Poppy was assigned to a real sour potato of a master.
It will be a story about a teacher and a student, and how they work out a way to get everything that each one needs from the other. It will give me a chance to do more world-building on the Fairy Kingdom of Tellosia. And more chances to create some teacher-comedy in a setting where I can create a lot of crazy stuff and draw more cartoons.
I may not get started for another couple of weeks yet, but the idea is growing by the hour.
Filed under announcement, fairies, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney
Hidden Kingdom… (Chapter 2 through page 19)
If you would like to see the complete Chapter One, you can find it at this link; https://catchafallingstarbook.net/2018/11/24/hidden-kingdom-chapter-1-complete/
Filed under comic strips, fairies, Hidden Kingdom, humor, Paffooney
365
Today’s post marks 365 daily posts in a row, an entire year’s worth of daily posts. I have now achieved this posting streak milestone three times. The other two were both January 1st to December 31st, both intentional achievements. This time came about from the end of last year’s Big Freeze disruption to the present day in February that respresents me getting back to daily blogging a year ago.
This new year of 2022 also marks the publication of my 21st book. I am offering a free copy of the e-book from now until Tuesday, February 22nd on Amazon. It is a fairy tale occurring in a fairy castle disguised as a willow tree. It is the reason I have fairies as the illustrations in this post. The book has an illustration for every chapter.
Filed under announcement, fairies
The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 16
Wayward Butterfly Children
Anneliese’s favorite Gingerbread Boy, Johan of Dusseldorf, found us as we were passing Tornhilda’s Towering Townhouse in the lower part of the castle.
“The Butterfly Child you had me watching is up near the wasp nest asking questions about the Wasprider Cavalry and Captain Bobkin.”
Anneliese frowned at that news.
“Why would she be doing that?” Bob asked me.
I shrugged. “Was she asking about where to find us?”
“Not unless she was intending to look into the iron spikes that the cavalry uses to make the wasp stingers more deadly to the Unseely Court in order to find you.” Johan’s peppermint candy eyes were expressionless, so I couldn’t tell if he was joking or being suspicious. I know I didn’t like the sound of that, and Dolly was my friend.
“Lead us to where you left her,” Anneliese ordered Johan. Over time, the Gingerbread Boy had developed a more Sylph-like shape to make him faster and more agile than the standard waddling cookie-shaped boy.
We found ourselves quickly climbing upward on the castle’s winding central staircase. We passed many Pixies with various animal and bug-like shapes. There were large numbers of Sylphs and Elves and Brownies and Butterfly Children also. I wondered if anybody had ever counted how many lived in this tree-castle. Bob had told me that it had an extensive underground city in the roots of the willow tree too. Could Dolly have been counting them for some reason?
I heard Dolly giggling in that girlish way she did as we reached the topmost landing of the central stair. She was hanging over the shoulder of an older Sylph grown fat and round with age. He wore a captain’s uniform that was tight on him because of his generous belly. He was laughing too, apparently at whatever the two of them had been talking about.
“Ah! Derfie! I’ve found you at last! Have you met Captain Bobkin? He’s in charge of the military defenses of Cair Tellos.” Dolly was smiling at me, but I’m not sure I was very quick to smile back.
“Well, well, I know Anneliese and young Bob quite well. I am even acquainted with Johan the Gingerbread Boy. But who is this charming Sylph who is the friend of the lovely Dollinglammer?”
“This is Derfentwinkle. She’s potentially going to be Master Eli Tragedy’s third apprentice,” said Bob, pulling me forward by the hand and placing my hand om the fat fairy captain’s gloved hand.
“Well, aren’t you sweet.” He kissed me on the cheek. His handlebar moustache was apparently waxed and felt slightly sticky on my cheek.
“We have all been looking for you, Miss Dollinglammer, since the Wizard Pippen arrested and nearly executed Miss Derfentwinkle, and Bob the Apprentice,” said Anneliese with what I took to be a guarded smile.
“Oh, my! Are you both okay? I thought surely the crows would rescue you both!” she said, seemingly surprised.
I wasn’t sure if Dolly was being straight with me, or just pretending. As far as I knew, she had never lied to me before. But Kronomarke can make a girl do horrible things whether she wanted to or not… Though I wondered what memories of evil the Magic Hat had removed from my head that made me think that in spite of not remembering.
And when Dolly mentioned Homer and Bert, I finally realized that I could no longer hear their continued presence in my mind or see what they were seeing through my eyes when I attempted to see through theirs.
I whispered in Bob’s ear, “I can’t feel my crow familiars in my mind anymore.”
Bob whispered back, “That was a special instruction that Master Eli gave to Bibby Joon. No mind can touch yours when you are wearing that cape.”
“Oh.”
I honestly didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Did they not trust me yet? Of course, I didn’t trust me either, not knowing how the necromancer had screwed up my mind before I got the cape.
“Well, Dollinglammer, now that we have found you, we need to get you back to Master Eli’s tower where you will be safe.”
“Oh, yeah… okay.” Dolly turned to go into the stairwell leading into Captain Bobkin’s command center. “It’s the other way, Miss,” said Johan politely. And so we headed down the stair taking us back to the castle.
Filed under fairies, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney
The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 15
The Bat-winged Cape
As we walked out of Master Tragedy’s Sorcerer’s tower toward the crafting district of Cair Tellos, I was carrying the huge jar of midnight shadows that Master Eli had given us to have a cape made from for Derfentwinkle. She was carrying the bottle imp, Kackenfurchtbar, in case I needed to test the truthfulness of what Derfie was telling us. But once on the stair to the Stitch-Witches’ Fabric and Sewing Shoppe, I turned to Derfie and set the jar down on a wooden step for a moment.
“Um, ah… Derfentwinkle?”
“Yes, Bob?”
“Can I… um… give you… ahem… I mean… would it be okay if I… gave you a…” I opened my arms before I said the actual words’
“A hug, Bob?”
I nodded silently, and she grabbed me with both arms and pressed my face against her bare bosom. I felt awkward, but I didn’t pull back. I put both of my arms around her and squeezed her just as hard.
“Because the Erlking’s Wizard nearly cut our heads off before we ever got a chance to…”
“Hug each other like this?” she finished my sentence. She used her empty hand to stroke the back of my head.
“Yeah…”
We held each other tightly for a few long minutes. Then, suddenly, Anneliese was there.
“Ah, Derfentwinkle, I see you’ve discovered how huggable the nicest Sylvan boy in all of Cair Tellos really is.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Of the hug, maybe. But I can surely share my best boy.”
“Best boy? Not, boyfriend?” Derfie asked.
“Anne is a Storybook and much older than me,” I said, reluctantly releasing my hold on the necromancer’s apprentice.
“Oh, right. Old enough to be your mother, I suppose?”
“Or his grandmother,” said Anneliese with a wrinkling of her nose above a puckish grin. “If you like my almost grandson, then that pleases me.””
“Did you come seeking us?” I asked her.
“Yes, I did. Master Eli told me where to find you two. A pretty little Butterfly Child named Dollinglammer has been asking about you in the residential towers. She seems intent on finding you. Especially you, Bob,”
“We have to go to the stitch-witches to get a cape made for Derfie. But if you come with us, you can take us to her afterwards,” I suggested.
“That would be lovely,” Anne said. “I have been interested to get to know this new Sylph friend of yours, Bob.”
Anneliese, nude as always, was absolutely beautiful. She had longish blond hair which curled wildly, and she never combed it. She was shaped like the fourteen-year-old human girl she was when the Nazis put her to death at Auschwitz. She was now an immortal Storybook thanks to a story her mother told about her, so her beauty would never fade or change.
She put an arm around my neck as I picked up the jar of shadows, and she put her other arm around Derfie, drawing us both close to her.
“Derfentwinkle, my powers as a Storybook are openness and honesty. If you ever need to talk to about the shadows that are inside of you, I’m your friend. I will talk about it with you as honestly as anyone can. And I say this as a guarantee, I can help you.”
Derfie looked down at the ground as we continued into the shop of the stitch-witches.
Bibby-Joon, the elder stitch-witch met us there. She was a Pixie with the upper torso of a youthful woman and the abdomen and spider legs of a large spider.
“We will have the cape done for you in a matter of minutes,” Bibby said. “It will be a very special Batwing Cape just as Master Eli ordered. It will not only protect you from mind control and influence spells, but it will turn into bat wings on command so you can fly. And if you wrap it all the way around you while standing in shadow, you will disappear and remain invisible as long as you do not move.”
We came out of the shop with Derfentwinkle wearing her new protective magic cape.
“It looks very becoming on you,” Anneliese told her.
“Kack? Is the necromancer’s mind control working on Derfie in any way?” I asked the bottle imp just as Master Eli had instructed me.
“No, Bob. Any evil she does now will be entirely her own doing.”
I think that answer made me frown or something. Anneliese put a comforting hand on the back of my neck and said, “Don’t worry, Bob. Everything is as it should be.” Derfie was smiling at the ground. And I couldn’t help feeling how beautiful she was… to me, at least. And worrying about how much control that gave her over me.
Filed under fairies, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney
The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 14
When You Wish Upon a Broom
I woke up to find myself in the red-velvet interior of one of Master Eli’s coat pockets. I was obviously considerably smaller than my normal two and a half inches of height.
“I’m sorry, Master. I know I am not supposed to misuse the Magic Hat. But I couldn’t help it. It was there. And I wanted a girlfriend so badly…”
“Mickey, I don’t even have to punish you. You’ve already gotten the consequences you deserve. You can’t have sex with one…”
“Master? How do I stop these aggressive brooms?” the quiet boy said sounding on the edge of desperation.
“…let alone TWO brooms! You should have used the animate object spell on one of those limestone statues Dizzyglitter is always carving. At least they are supposed to look like Sylphs. What are the brooms’ names, Mickey?”
“Merrydew and Cannabis,” Mickey squeaked.
“Give them new orders by name, Bob.” The Master’s voice seemed to be suppressing a slight chuckle.
I climbed up to the edge of the pocket and looked out.
“Merrydew, sweep the floors. Cannabis, alphabetize the potion bottles.”
I saw the two brooms stop chasing Bob and take up their new tasks. Mickey was laid up on the exam table, his body naked except for fur and a huge bandage on his personal love parts. I was pretty sure that was the consequences the Master spoke of, but I didn’t want to think about how it came to be.
Then I looked up and saw Master Eli looking down at me and picking me up in his gloved left hand. He lifted me up in front of his scowling face.
“You, I believe have been a very naughty girl, Derfentwinkle. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I am very sorry, Master Eli. I was always planning to return to your service. But the crows contacted me by telepathy and told me where to find my friend Dollinglammer. And she had news of my poor sister.”
“You left with some of the magic given you by the Magic Hat, but none of the training you were supposed to get from me.”
“Are you going to punish me?”
“Well, of course not. What did a student ever learn from being punished beyond how much they should hate their teacher? You saw the White Stag inside the hat. That means you were chosen and must stay with me until your quest is completed.”
“My quest? Is it to free the village of Mortimer’s
Mudwallow?”
“No, of course not. I mean, the Stag doesn’t tell me much about the future. Just that you have a quest and we are tasked with helping you.”
He put me gently down on the cold stone floor, took a vial of purple liquid from one of his other pockets, and sprinkled some on my head. With dizzying suddenness, I was normal-sized again.
“We need to dress you in an apprentice’s robe like Mickey is supposed to be wearing if the sex-crazed brooms hadn’t torn it off him.”
“No. I don’t wear clothes. None of my family ever has.”
“It’s not an option. You need to wear a protective enchantment, both from Bluebottom’s mind control and Master Pippen’s influence spells.”
“Does it have to be a robe? Bob doesn’t wear a robe.”
“Do you want an enchanted leather jerkin like Bob wears? Complete with magical advertising signs for our Sorcery business?”
“No, ah… can it be a necklace, or a hat?”
“Not to hold the spell powers I will make it with.”
“You can wear your apprentice robe open in the front like I do. I like to show off my manly abs,” said Mickey.
“I can probably make a cloak or a cape,” Master Eli suggested.
“Why do so many Sylphs prefer to be nude?” quiet Bob asked Master Eli.
“Sylphs are naturally immune to heat and cold, so they don’t need clothing to protect them from those things. And they like the freedom of movement they have with nothing binding to wear. They don’t need clothes the way Elves and Slow Ones and Brownies do. There are even Elves that make magical necklaces, collars, and rings to keep them warm or cool so they can be nude also.”
“But some of us just like to be naked all the time,” I said, not really understanding why Bob didn’t know that already.
Bob was looking at me as I stood there naked in front of him. He had a shy smile on his cute face. It gave me an unexpected thrill to realize it.
The Necromancer’s Apprentice… Canto 13
Angry Wizards Aren’t Good for Your Health
On the way back to the willow castle Bert and Homer were reciting some kind of comedy routine they had seen on some Slow One’s tele-bish-yawn set at what they called the Nurse-Sing Home. It was something done by two Slow Ones named Cabbit and Klaustello. It was talking about a bees-ball team. And the dumb guy, Klaustello wanted to know the name of the guy on first base. But the other guy didn’t understand the question because the team had stupid names. And then they both got really mixed up, but the dumb guy got boiling mad about Who’s on First? It really wasn’t all that funny.
“Why does Klaustello care if the first guy’s name is Who?” Derfentwinkle asked.
“What kind of game is bees-ball anyway?” I asked.
“It is the All-Mermerrican Sport,” said Homer.
“I think they take a bunch of angry bees and make them into a ball to throw at the players of the other team,” said Bert
“And the other team takes their bees-ball bat and try to defend themselves from the stings by swatting the angry ball of bees,” said Homer.
I began to think it was funny when I pictured in my head the expression on the face of the bat when the stupid Slow One grabbed it by the feet and swung it at a ball of bees.
But most of the time, only the two crows thought it was funny.
And then we all landed safely on the roof of Cair Tellos’s main keep.
“Arrest them all immediately!” shouted the Wizard Pippen. The pentagram on his chest-plate was glowing with bright blue protection magic.
“Not Bob the apprentice. He’s Master Tragedy’s loyal student,” argued Prinz Flute, the faun-child who was Pippen’s only son.
“If he was supposed to be guarding the prisoner and let her escape, then he deserves the punishment too. Set up the chopping block right here, right now.”
The crows took off almost instantly. Dollinglammer used her butterfly wings to follow them before the Sylphs with the halberds could grab her. But Derfentwinkle and I were both caught.
The Executioner of Cair Tellos in his jet-black hood and black-banded armor set up the wooden chopping block right in front of us. A guard pushed me down to it so that my neck was against the place on the chopping block carved to fit it. I was about to really lose my head, and I was not happy about it.
“Father, please, they were returning to the castle. How do you know that Bob didn’t recapture her, and was bringing her back to us?”
“You are right, son. We shouldn’t cut his head off first.”
The Sylphs with the halberds picked me up again and forced Derfie down to take my place.
“Here, now! Those children belong to me. You overstep your authority in doing this!” shouted Master Eli as he showed up, red-faced and huffing with the effort of his climb up to where we were captured.
“If you punish them yourself, we’ll just end up with more pigeons around here. What’s the lesson learned from that? More fat pigeons?”
“A better lesson learned by far than if you cut off their heads. Students learn nothing without their heads attached. At least when they have their heads still on there’s a chance of beating sense into them. Or do you have a head-reattaching spell I don’t know about?”
“Okay, but I won’t have young Sylphs who are supposed to be prisoners flying out of here to go tell my secrets to the evil elves in the swamp. Or that Bluebottom friend of yours.”
“Oh, believe me. They will tell me more secrets of his than they will ever tell him about you.”
Then Master Eli tilted a vial of potion over Derfentwinkle’s head, instantly shrinking her down almost to nothing before picking her up and putting her away in a side-pocket of his red overcoat.
“Be warned, Sorcerer. You are not above suspicion yourself.” Growled the Wizard Pippen.
“Come with me, Bob. We have lots of work ahead of us.” Master Eli stormed away from the fuming wizard and I scurried after him with one hand on my recently-threatened neck.
Catch a Falling Star 
On the Problem of Always Being Wrong
I was a middle-school teacher for thirty-one years. That, of course, basically means I have to be wrong about everything. Principals have told me so. Parents have told me so. And students who have heard them say so take it completely to heart because, well… Who has the most authority to declare someone else completely wrong?
Yes, I have it on good authority… I am wrong about everything, always.
.
But it is very useful to realize that I am in good company. Galileo was wrong about the sun not going around the Earth. The College of Cardinals said it was so, and the Inquisition forced him to confess he was wrong. Giordano Bruno was so wrong about Copernicus being right that the Inquisition had to burn him at the stake. One would almost think that it is a bad thing to be wrong.
But it’s not.
Science, in fact requires its greatest practitioners to find out all the ways that they are wrong. How else do you create a theory of what is probably right?
It is fundamental to the scientific method to be as right as it is possible to prove. Of course, every scientific theory yields up a lot of anomalies that somehow defy the rules of the currently understood correct theory.
Isaac Newton got thumped on the brain-top by an apple and realized that the same thing that made the apple fall to Earth was making the Moon fall to the Earth, although the Moon is falling at the same rate as it is going around the Earth, so it never finishes the falling.
Later, Albert Einstein would realize that Newton’s gravity would even bend the light of distant stars around the edges of the Sun. And so, he found where Newton, genius that he was, was wrong. And so, the Theory of Relativity was born.
Guess what. Einstein was wrong too.
So, ultimately, it is okay for me to be wrong about things. It is necessary to be wrong before you can find out what is right. So, when I say something stupid like the following…
Comedy is good for you.
You should be naked more.
Fairies are only real if you believe in them.
You must take a leap of faith and live in the world like a Navajo, in tune with the natural world and comfortable with other people living in your world too. Moment by moment in the present moment.
…and eventually, I may stumble upon what is right and true. Or get burned at the stake like Bruno. That happens too.
2 Comments
Filed under artwork, commentary, fairies, humor, Paffooney, philosophy