Once again, I did not get to share my piece during the last Drop In and Write session so I’m posting it here
This time, we had a special prompt from a company called Spokane Bottle Project. According to our Prompter, what they do is they collect old glass bottles and sell them to people that can make up a story about it.
And that’s basically what we did. We came up with a story about one of the bottles they gave us to choose from. We were even allowed to take them home with us!
Mine was a smaller clear glass bottle that kinda looked like an inkwell.
Again, this piece is supposed to be part of A Kitsune in Camelot. Some things will likely be changed in the final version.
The Piece:
The feather quill tapped the side of the little glass bottle as it was extracted, leaving small drops of black ink on the wooden surface of the desk.
The girl paused as she held the quill, pondering how she was going to transfer her thoughts to the parchment. She glanced at the bottle, noting how the sunlight reflected off its smooth, somewhat foggy surface.
It reminded her of the day she and her beloved Sigurd had found it, abandoned in the Court Magician’s study.
It had been much dustier then, likely sitting on that shelf for years before she found it. There had been stains all along the inside from the many potions and elixirs that had been kept inside it.
The Princess idly wondered whether there were still magical properties within the bottle now. There hadn’t been the last time she used her special inkwell, and the time before that. At least, that she knew of.
Sigurd must have really scrubbed it clean, as the magician had suggested.
It had apparently belonged to the Court Magician before him, and Copernicus just forgot it was there.
The Princess had forgotten what brought her to the magicians’ study in the first place that day. But she supposed it didn’t matter now.
Scratching sounds filled the silence of her room as she thought of something else to add to her letter.
At her father’s request, the Princess was writing letters to each of the five Champions that had won the recent tournament.
Of course, there had only been one actual winner, but the four runners-up were also allowed to become knights. The kingdom desperately needed as many soldiers as they could get, preferably pre-qualified for the job with little to no training required.
The thought made the Princess worry got her dear Sigurd all the more.
He’d gone missing soon after they’d returned from the Duchy of Wessex a month ago.
Last she knew, he’d fallen I’ll and then just… disappeared.
Reports from that night told that there had been a dragon spotted above the castle.
Logic suggested that the dragon must have taken him.
But that couldn’t be right.
Sigurd was one of the best fighters in all the realm. It was why he was made the Princess’ personal guard.
She suspected there was more to that story, but she knew she couldn’t investigate or retrace her steps herself.
So… she’d have one of the newly-appointed knights look into it for her.
The letter she was currently working on was addressed to the man who had actually won the Autumn Games.
He seemed trustworthy.
A few minutes later, she’d finished writing her message for help, tucked into the center of the letter, rolled up and held together with a green ribbon.
Each of the letters had color-coded ribbons to indicate which was to go to who.
The others had yellow, red, blue and white ribbons.
She placed the quill back in the inkwell, causing the thick, black liquid within to slosh around inside the bottle a little.
After a moment, she picked up the bottle, a ginger caressing it’s side as she sighed sadly.
Holding it to her chest, she looked out the window at the jousting arena.
At least a dozen knights were out there, practicing their swordplay and horsemanship, their archery and martial arts techniques.
The Princess would often see Sigurd out there with them. She recognized a few faces, belonging to the captains of the King and Queen’s Guards and fellow knights that Sigurd seemed to get along with.
She wondered why they weren’t doing anything to look for their fellow knight.
They must think he’s as good ad dead, if he was taken by a dragon.
She refused to believe that.
With purpose, she strode out of her room, meeting Sigurd’s replacement at the door.
He had been his squire, a waifish boy with copper red hair and freckles and blue eyes.
Sigurd had taught him well, but he was still nervous around his charge.
Evident from the way the boy tensed up as she faced him.
“Oh, calm down. I’m not going to have you executed or anything.”
“R-right.” He laughed nervously. “A-anything you need, your highness?”
“Yes. Make sure these are delivered to the Champions. They contain the date and time for their accolade ceremony.”
“Oh! Of course, your highness!” He said, some of the nervous stutter leaving his voice.
“It’ll be good to have some new recruits. Especially ones as strong as them!”
He bowed respectfully.
“I’ll get these to a courier right away!”
With that, he turned and jogged down the hall.
Once he was out of sight, the Princess returned to her room, glass inkwell still in hand.
She sighed.
“Sigurd, my love… I do hope you return to me soon…”
If that foreign magic caster didn’t deliver… then she might have to do something drastic.
