[Feb 7] [Path of the Just] What makes a legend?

[amethystlight.livejournal.com]

Title: What makes a legend?
Day/Theme: Feb 7 / The white lady
Series: Path of the Just by S. Daniel McPhail
Characters: A bunch of OCs
Rating: G



"An archer."

"An archer?"

"A beautiful archer."

"Oh, of course." Javier twitched his nose, long whiskers swishing. "When is it not?"

Balthasar, the linx Emejre telling the story, waved his right arm with a flourish. He was dressed in an outfit that wouldn't be out of place in a reenactment of Paul Revere's ride. It was one of many costumes they had found in the house's attic. Javier was dressed as a Minuteman, a tri-corner hat perched precariously between his large rounded ears. The field mouse sat on a large steamer trunk. Balthasar stood upon another.

"The forest was hazy but the terrified villains knew what they saw. An angelic white fox with wings of silver and a bow, also of silver, aiming arrows of ice at their hearts. There was no doubt she could fell all of them within a beat of those hearts."

"Wait, wait...wings now? And silver, to boot? Next you'll say she was as powerful as El Matador!"

Balthasar leveled a solemn gaze on him. "She is even more powerful."

Javier slapped his knee. "Baloney! No one would believe that."

Balthasar slouched then hopped off the trunk, plunking down on top of it and setting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. "What do you suggest, then?"

"No wings. That's ridiculous."

"But probable."

"But not in this case."

Balthasar went quiet, then said in a sulky voice, "I like the wings."

"Do you want my input or not?"

"Obviously I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

"Yeah, no wings."

"You just don't like flyers, do you?"

Javier twitched his nose again. "Stay on topic. You want to create your own legend, you need to be able to adjust it. You well know how things get adapted over time, anyway."

"Fine." Balthasar glanced around then got up, walking over to a clothing rack with dozens of evening gowns on it. He drew one out, hangar and all. "She wore a blue gown, belted at the waist and slit along one leg. A golden girdle was on the leg showing through. She walked with the grace of moonlight and drifted like the arctic snow she had been born from."

"Unless there were fifty mile per hour winds -- then the snow doesn't drift so gracefully." Javier chortled. "Yet, seeing frozen water become flesh and blood would be rather interesting."

Balthasar lowered the gown. "Are you going to nitpick every word of this?"

"Depends on how I feel. Oh, and that is so not your color."

The linx made an annoyed face at him as he put the dress back. "Anyway, a living being made from other elements in nature is all part of legends. Haven't you read up on the Greek gods?"

"Not recently. Did you take that book back?"

"It was on the shelf last I saw it."

They both looked over at the rickety bookcase by the stairs leading down to the attic door. The book in question was sitting on top of it. At that moment a knock came, then the door opened and a puma Emejre came up the stairs. She was dressed in normal jeans and a green sweatshirt. "Dinner's almost ready, guys." She looked them over. "Spaghetti. You might want to change."

"Thanks, Melyssa." Balthasar began to remove his vest.

Javier put his hat on the coat rack sporting numerous other headwear. "Discussion to be continued after dinner. Mister Wrunker probably doesn't want to hear about you fantasizing about winged foxes."

"I'm not fantasizing! I'm creating something for a good cause!"

They finished changing back to their regular clothes, also provided by the elderly human who allowed them to visit and use his collection of stage props and costumes, as long as they kept things clean and put everything back where they found it which they were more than happy to do. Imaginative though they were, the two young Emejre understood the concept of respecting someone else's property.

They came into the kitchen as Melyssa was setting out the plates of spaghetti. A gravy boat of tomato sauce sat on the table alongside a tub of butter so everyone could choose their preferred topping. Javier helped her since it was his turn, while Balthasar scooted into his chair to the right of Mister Wrunker. The human was perusing the late edition newspaper. He lowered it as Melyssa sat down then folded it neatly and placed it on the hutch beside the table. "So, boys, who was on the stage today?" He looked from Balthasar to Javier, smiling knowingly. While they couldn't really be classified as boys in terms of age, Mister Wrunker considered anyone under thirty to be a 'boy' or 'girl'.

"Revolutionary soldiers and angels, sir," Javier replied immediately. Balthasar shot him a look, but the other blithely ignored him.

"Ah. Would have made for an interesting troop against the British. Any inspiration this time around?"

"Greek mythology," Balthasar said before Javier could comment. "It's more divine warriors than angels."

The elderly man nodded and buttered a piece of bread before starting on his dinner. Much to Balthasar's relief everyone decided to eat in silence. When they were done, the two males cleared the table and made washing the dishes a team effort. Melyssa wandered off into the small living room with a book in hand, tawny tail curling slightly. Javier finished putting away the dishes then turned to Mister Wrunker and sketched a bow. "Thank you for dinner, good monsieur." Balthasar mimicked him a moment later.

"You're welcome. See you boys tomorrow." Mister Wrunker smiled. The two headed out the front door. He closed it behind them then took his newspaper into the living room, making his way to the armchair across from the TV. Melyssa was bundled in a blanket on the adjacent couch, knees drawn up. She looked up from her book as he sat down.

"May I invite a friend over tomorrow?"

"As long as they mind their manners."

Melyssa smiled. "She will."

~*~

"And so the warrior maiden slew the last of the evil enslavers, ending their reign and freeing the people!"

Javier and Melyssa clapped as Balthasar finished his tale with a bow, both arms extended out to the sides. Today he wore a plain sweater with slacks to look professional.

Suddenly the attic's north-facing window rattled. The seated two leapt to their feet while Balthasar jumped half a yard to the left. The window rattled again then came open, the thin curtains billowing inward as chill wind pulled at them. Balthasar backed toward Javier as someone stepped in from outside. A blue gown topped by a hooded silver cape accentuated a svelte female form as sandled feet touched down onto the wooden floorboards. A quiver was visible over one shoulder and she held a dark wooden bow in one hand. She pulled the hood back from her face, the large, rounded-tip ears of an arctic fox showing to be the bumps on either side of the hood. She leveled a nocked arrow at Balthasar. "You left out a part."

The two males didn't even stop to stare, instead tearing off down the stairs. They hit the door, unable to get it open fast enough -- then they went careening down the next flight of stairs.

Melyssa managed to wait for a moment then burst out laughing. "Chanah, that was perfect." She went over to help her friend out of the borrowed costume pieces.

The white-furred Emejre grinned. "How long before they realize they left you at the mercy of the 'Ghost Maiden'?"

"Long enough. They only pretend to be the heroes. They're still just 'the guys', you know?"

"Yeah." Chanah now smirked. "But no harm in that."