LJIdol S11 - Week 24 - Intersection Again - "If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn"
My cohort for this week was rayaso, whose entry can be found here. We decided on a common starting element and then went off in our own directions with no further communication.
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Legend tells of a mystical stone that can be found in the enchanted forest, which has the power to change one's fate. Legend says that it has turned paupers into monarchs, mediocre monarchs into much more successful monarchs, and reluctant monarchs into people who aren't monarchs anymore but certainly aren't paupers, because who the heck wants to be a pauper?
For those who wish to neither increment nor decrement the number of crowns that they wear, Legend says that the stone can alter fate on a somewhat less dramatic scale just as easily. Regardless of the magnitude of one's troubles, however, the process for gaining the favor of the stone is the same - all one need do is write their problems or fears onto a piece of paper and leave it beneath the stone.
What Legend doesn't say, however, is exactly what the stone looks like or precisely where in the forest in can be found, which is probably why the countryside isn't crawling with a profusion of monarchs and there are still quite a lot of paupers. It also explains why just about every stone in the enchanted forest has several pieces of paper pinned under it.
The forest is not pleased about this. The notes disrupt the ecosystems of various insects that take refuge under rocks during the day. The foot traffic of the people leaving the notes damages all sorts of undergrowth. The prevalence of tiny pieces of paper means that several squirrels and owls and foxes have taken up writing poetry, scrawling the words on the blank reverse sides of the notes. Since there is so much collective sorrow permeating the forest from people trying to correct their misfortunes, much of this poetry is overwrought and depressing, yet also lacks authenticity because it's all based on someone else's suffering. Those owls, squirrels, and foxes are all posers.
Worst of all, this focus on the rocks means that people visiting the enchanted forest are paying more attention to the rocks than to the trees. Enchanted trees can be very self-centered.
In an attempt to dissuade these vile interlopers from disturbing the forest's bugs, trampling its ferns, and inspiring its birds and animals to write terrible, inauthentic poetry, the forest has taken to transforming intruding humans into elk, or shoving them into ravines, or even just dropping heavy branches on them. Alas, all these measures accomplish is to reinforce the supernatural reputation of the enchanted forest, which only serves to make people believe in and desire the use of the forest's fate-altering stone all the more. For the desperate it is worth the risk, and for the lazy it is still less work than trying to solve their own problems.
The awful tragedy of the situation is made worse by the fact that the stone is no longer in the enchanted forest at all. It was stolen several weeks ago by a traveler who didn't recognize its significance, but just thought that it would make a nice paperweight. His life has been plagued by misery and confusion ever since. An absent-minded fellow, he is forever writing himself little notes to remind him of things he needs to do or appointments he needs to keep, and whenever he happens to anchor one these notes to his desk with the stone, bizarre and upsetting things happen.
The stone is also frustrated. It has been trying to solve the problems of this same man for weeks now, and he never seems to be satisfied with the changes the stone has wrought. This shouldn't be surprising, since most of the time the stone has trouble trying to figure out exactly what the man wants it to do. The stone had no trouble with messages like "I do not wish to marry Gavin," or "We cannot afford to pay our landlord," but is utterly flummoxed by "bread, radishes, cheese" and "lunch with Oletta noon."
The stone had caused the bakery to burn down, spoiled a cartful of radishes, and, borrowing a page from its old friends in the enchanted forest, turned the cheese-monger into an elk, but none of this seemed to make the man happy. The stone had inspired Oletta to leave town and never return, and that had only made the man even more upset.
Oh, well. On the bright side, at least the stone doesn't have to listen to any more of that dreadful poetry.
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Legend tells of a mystical stone that can be found in the enchanted forest, which has the power to change one's fate. Legend says that it has turned paupers into monarchs, mediocre monarchs into much more successful monarchs, and reluctant monarchs into people who aren't monarchs anymore but certainly aren't paupers, because who the heck wants to be a pauper?
For those who wish to neither increment nor decrement the number of crowns that they wear, Legend says that the stone can alter fate on a somewhat less dramatic scale just as easily. Regardless of the magnitude of one's troubles, however, the process for gaining the favor of the stone is the same - all one need do is write their problems or fears onto a piece of paper and leave it beneath the stone.
What Legend doesn't say, however, is exactly what the stone looks like or precisely where in the forest in can be found, which is probably why the countryside isn't crawling with a profusion of monarchs and there are still quite a lot of paupers. It also explains why just about every stone in the enchanted forest has several pieces of paper pinned under it.
The forest is not pleased about this. The notes disrupt the ecosystems of various insects that take refuge under rocks during the day. The foot traffic of the people leaving the notes damages all sorts of undergrowth. The prevalence of tiny pieces of paper means that several squirrels and owls and foxes have taken up writing poetry, scrawling the words on the blank reverse sides of the notes. Since there is so much collective sorrow permeating the forest from people trying to correct their misfortunes, much of this poetry is overwrought and depressing, yet also lacks authenticity because it's all based on someone else's suffering. Those owls, squirrels, and foxes are all posers.
Worst of all, this focus on the rocks means that people visiting the enchanted forest are paying more attention to the rocks than to the trees. Enchanted trees can be very self-centered.
In an attempt to dissuade these vile interlopers from disturbing the forest's bugs, trampling its ferns, and inspiring its birds and animals to write terrible, inauthentic poetry, the forest has taken to transforming intruding humans into elk, or shoving them into ravines, or even just dropping heavy branches on them. Alas, all these measures accomplish is to reinforce the supernatural reputation of the enchanted forest, which only serves to make people believe in and desire the use of the forest's fate-altering stone all the more. For the desperate it is worth the risk, and for the lazy it is still less work than trying to solve their own problems.
The awful tragedy of the situation is made worse by the fact that the stone is no longer in the enchanted forest at all. It was stolen several weeks ago by a traveler who didn't recognize its significance, but just thought that it would make a nice paperweight. His life has been plagued by misery and confusion ever since. An absent-minded fellow, he is forever writing himself little notes to remind him of things he needs to do or appointments he needs to keep, and whenever he happens to anchor one these notes to his desk with the stone, bizarre and upsetting things happen.
The stone is also frustrated. It has been trying to solve the problems of this same man for weeks now, and he never seems to be satisfied with the changes the stone has wrought. This shouldn't be surprising, since most of the time the stone has trouble trying to figure out exactly what the man wants it to do. The stone had no trouble with messages like "I do not wish to marry Gavin," or "We cannot afford to pay our landlord," but is utterly flummoxed by "bread, radishes, cheese" and "lunch with Oletta noon."
The stone had caused the bakery to burn down, spoiled a cartful of radishes, and, borrowing a page from its old friends in the enchanted forest, turned the cheese-monger into an elk, but none of this seemed to make the man happy. The stone had inspired Oletta to leave town and never return, and that had only made the man even more upset.
Oh, well. On the bright side, at least the stone doesn't have to listen to any more of that dreadful poetry.