The Birth of a Madbloom
Take a mortal youth, no older than sixteen. Lead them into the Kingdom of Rainbows, by intent or happenstance. Should they follow their breadcrumbs safely back, let none be the wiser! Should their heart cry out for home, let mortality embrace their mossy bones. But should they be of that rare disposition─one that longs for magicks fell and fancies fae? Those are the pilgrims that wander evermore. To revels do they turn their mind, To dreams of wings and pixiekind. No food nor rest fain they to take, Forever after ne'er to wake.♪ Exhausted and enthralled, the dreamer dies. And beside their remains blooms a solitary flower. The dewy petals hold a wayward youth who purged their mortal grossness and seized the likeness of their desire. One who spurned their fate─a Madbloom!











