The Court of Blossoming Spring

    Here's another piece I wrote for a creative writing class in 2023. If you want to read my written works more frequently, check out my Patreon. You can also buy my poetry book.

The last bite of winter whimpers off in the night as the Horn of Spring announces the succeeding fairy court, the Court of Blossoming Spring, into session. The frost of the Court of Gentle Snow melts as the Elfin King Ambrose takes his place on the throne. An ancient tree was transformed through magic to become the seat of the four seasonal fairy Kings and Queens. And with winter’s end and spring’s beginning, the icicles that once covered the throne melt into the water that sprouts the virgin greenery of spring. With the vibrancy of a new court awakening to greet their King, Ambrose’s rich voice calls their attention.

           “It is good to see you all have risen from your hibernation. And while we will be getting to the festivities soon, I have an important announcement.” Ambrose looks around his court until he spots someone, “I’ll be taking an official Consort this spring season.”

           The Court of Blossoming erupts in a frenzy of complicated emotions. Despite being the King of their court for four short human generations, Ambrose never seems smitten with anyone. At least not to the point of marriage. Although those who pay attention think of a nymph, Ambrose has known since he was a prince. Typically, a ruler of a fairy court is already married or engaged. As it is through a union that allows for better allyship among a ruler’s seasonal court. But that wasn’t on Ambrose’s mind. All his violet eyes can do is stare into a distant pair of amber eyes. However, the owner of the amber eyes refuses to let Ambrose see within the soul behind them. He relents in his undivided attention to the familiar gaze and continues with his announcement.

           “On the third day of spring, the Horn of Oshun will be blown by me. And all available court members will participate for the chance to become Consort. The participants will be challenged to go through the Sweet Nightshade Labyrinth,” says Ambrose.

           Again the court bustles but quickly quiets down as Ambrose says, “Whoever completes the labyrinth first will be wedded to me upon completion. Now, with that said, the court may move on to festivities.”

           With the seriousness of the evening over, the fairy folk is a buzz with gossip and liquor. But the sweet-tasting question spilling from everyone’s red wine lips is, who is Elfin King Ambrose hoping to be Consort. It is the celestial nymph Aphrodite, clear-eyed and determined to seek answers from King Ambrose. Aphrodite rushes through the formal pleasantries and confronts Ambrose.

           “Will the race through the Sweet Nightshade Labyrinth be fair?” says Aphrodite.

           Ambrose’s lip quirks, “No more than three participants should die.”

           Aphrodite’s amber eyes narrow, “That wasn’t a direct answer, elf.”

           Ambrose smirks, “Everyone who survives their run through the labyrinth will find it fair. Those who die only have themselves to blame.”

           Lifting his large hand, he gently moves the large box braids from the side of Aphrodite’s face. His dark olive hand then caresses Aphrodite’s round dark brown cheek lovingly. Aphrodite’s cold amber eyes warm under Ambrose’s attention; however, the moment between them lasts like a flash of lightning. The fairy folk around them is starting to pay attention to what they’re talking about. Ambrose slowly removes his hand from her cheek, not wanting to be accused of bias. And Aphrodite misses the warmth of his familiar hand. In a low voice, he wishes Aphrodite luck, and she resists having his wish grace her lips. Aphrodite thanks him and turns away to rejoin the other celestial nymphs. A hobgoblin sniffs out the last of winter’s mulled wine and passes around goblets so everyone can taste the warmed liquor. The celebration of spring’s rule is filled with jokes about King Ambrose’s final days as a bachelor. Stolen kisses and hidden enclaves for more intimate caresses are fueled by spice wine courage. Any foolishness Aphrodite could get up to is forgotten as she chooses to return to the night sky after her third cup of wine.

           The following morning is filled with hangover cures as many fairy folks overindulged in alcohol. And those who hadn’t arisen from slumber yesterday were caught up with the recent events. With only a day left until the competition for Consort, the court is overwhelmed with chatter. Nothing was able to get done, and King Ambrose didn’t even try to get his court to focus. Finally, the last gasp of ice and snow melts into fresh water, and winter is but a memory. As promised, Elfin King Ambrose blows the Horn of Oshun. The goddess Oshun had a dwarf craft it, and she enchanted the horn as a gift to a lonely giant King so he may find love. Everyone not partnered this spring season feels compelled to meet the one who’s blown the legendary horn.

           Aphrodite, feeling the pull of the Horn of Oshun, falls from the sky like a shooting star and lands among the other participants. With all the competitors before him, Elfin King Ambrose gracefully leads the way to the entrance of the Sweet Nightshade Labyrinth. The dark berried aroma curls around the nose of the crowd. The labyrinth’s seductive fragrance calls.

           Ambrose’s voice breaks through, “The dangers that lay within the labyrinth are a part of its natural charm. But be warned that your obstacles will threaten your life if you are not careful. Whisperers will always inform me where you are inside the maze and ensure you’re not cheating. A seeker will be dispatched to punish you if you’re found cheating. The chance to become Consort of one of the seasonal rulers is sacred. Dare not sully our tradition because of your shortcomings.”

           Taking the Horn of Oshun to his lips again, King Ambrose blows into it, signally the beginning of the race. All the participants rush through the entrance. The dark berry perfume of the labyrinth embraces the competitors into its serpentine depths. When Aphrodite crosses the starting line, she finds herself alone. The labyrinth likely separated all the contestants so they could figure their way out alone. Straying away from the walls crawling with nightshade, Aphrodite makes her way forward until she reaches a fork in the maze. Seeing this as an opportunity to test the labyrinth’s wall, Aphrodite leaps into the air. A rush of wind sprites twirls around her. As she rises, the walls scramble higher than her to block her view. Ensuring that no one can peer ahead and solve the maze. Aphrodite smiles and descends to the ground. On her way down, Aphrodite reaches out and grabs hold of a wind sprite. With her feet touching the ground again, the labyrinth walls return to their standard height. Aphrodite uses nightly shadows to create a spacious birdcage around the wind sprite.

           “Why, hello there, little friend,” Aphrodite makes sure she has the wind sprite’s full attention, “I would like for you to lead me through the labyrinth. You’re much better at following the earthly winds than I am. If you do so, I will feed you fresh honey and ripe apple slices after I release you.”

           The wind sprite grins and shows off its needle-like teeth, “And what would happen if I lead you to your death, nymph?”

           Aphrodite smiles sickeningly sweet as she pinches the wind sprite’s fragile insect wings between her thumb and pointer finger. Then, she tugs its wings softly and says, “A wind sprite doesn’t live long if stuck on the ground.”

           The sprite gets comfortable in its cage and tells Aphrodite to take the left path. Aphrodite releases the sprite’s wings and cradles the birdcage to her bosom as she goes left. As the duo makes quick progress through the maze, Aphrodite comes upon her first challenge, a riddle in front of a hedge blocking her path. The violet flowers of nightshade form King Ambrose’s sigil.

           Aphrodite reads the riddle aloud, “What runs but never walks. Murmurs but never talks. Has a bed but never sleeps. And has a mouth but never eats?”

           Before she can puzzle over the riddle, a tiny voice catches her elfish ears. Turning her face towards the voice, she spots within a nightshade flower, a flower pixie. It must be the Whisperer, for the pixie hides inside the violet bud as soon as she catches its eye. Since the Whisperer is docile, Aphrodite focuses on the riddle. She repeats different parts of it, hoping for an epiphany. With no epiphany coming to her, Aphrodite tries to solve the riddle another way. Looking for a clue, she gazes around her surroundings when her ears pick up another sound. It’s the sound of running water coming from the irrigation system. Surveying the water closer, Aphrodite realizes it looks like a little river.

           “The river runs, it murmurs, has a bed, and a mouth!” Aphrodite says.

           The hedge accepts her answer, and the sigil glows to create an archway for Aphrodite. However, the barrier becomes an unmoving obstacle once she passes through it. With the first and easiest trial over, the wind sprite points out the next direction. So Aphrodite and the wind sprite continue down the new pathway. However, it is only a short time before the sprite grows bored of pointing Aphrodite in the right direction.

           Seeing that it’ll be some time before the next challenge, the wind sprite digs for information, “So, Aphrodite, do you want to marry Elfin King Ambrose?”

           Aphrodite rolls her eyes, “Even the Horn of Oshun could not compel me to join this race if I didn’t want to.”

           Unsatisfied, the wind sprite probes more, “If you want to be here, then you have some sort of relationship with King Ambrose?”

           Aphrodite’s eyes age with a distant fire, “During the Requiem of the Seasonal Princes, I was beside Prince Ambrose. His hair was shorter then, less easy for his brother to grab.”

            The wind sprite’s eyes widen in shock. The Requiem of the Seasonal Princes was a bloody war. Any fairy knight that survived possesses a devastating amount of magical power. And for Aphrodite to be on King Ambrose’s side during the warfare, she isn’t someone an opponent fights recklessly. The sprite’s captor is far more fascinating than they initially thought. And if she was intimate with King Ambrose before he wore the crown, their union would withstand even the deadliest of iron swords.

            As for Aphrodite, the memory of that time sings an old song of death. The stench of burning snow and decaying flower petals mix inside Aphrodite’s nose and cause her to stall her progress. Her thick box braids curtain her face as her amber eyes ignite with an old fire of that time. Her fingers twitch, wishing for her sword. It has been nearly a hundred years since her blade last kissed flesh. That was the last time she and Ambrose danced together across the battlefield at that time. They were an inseparable force of crimson-drench lovers, and the six other princes were reduced to shadows and plant fertilizer. But the weight of the war caused Ambrose and Aphrodite to temporarily separate. And, of course, her heart began to yearn as the burning snow melted to water, nurturing hardy roots of love. A love that blooms passionate red petals.

            The rustling of the leaves is what snaps Aphrodite out of her memories. Breathing out a long sigh, Aphrodite instructs the wind sprite to lead them toward the exit. As they go forth on their journey, screams and hisses from the other participants echo through the pathways. Whether the other contestants are at their subsequent trial or have been captured by a Seeker, their wails never cease. Aphrodite and the wind sprite ignore them as there’s nothing they can do to interfere. After making it past another bend in the maze, Aphrodite catches a musky cologne in her nose.

            From behind, a Whisperer says, “The second challenge has begun.”

            Following the alluring fragrance, a teasing masculine voice calls out, “I’ve been waiting for you, my star. Any longer, and I would have had to find you myself.”

            Her feet guide her towards the voice owner, but Aphrodite barely resists his call to stand before him. His voice hooks into the top layer of skin and tries to reel her in closer. Her body flushes with desire, and her resistance loosens despite digging her toes into the maze’s floor. But only the threat of imminent harm can stop her from failing before she can even start the following challenge. Thinking quickly, Aphrodite decides that only the threat of deadly nightshade can keep her from falling into the trap. Then, getting dangerously close to the labyrinth’s walls, Aphrodite sneaks around the hedge, separating her from the one serenading to her heart. Shyly peering around the flowery wall, Aphrodite spots an incubus relaxing inside a delicately carved green marble garden pavilion.

            With a handsome smile, the incubus calls out, “My star, all you need to do to beat this challenge is be seen by me. Come on now; I can feel my foot falling asleep.”

            “If that’s all, we should trust the incubus and move on,” says the wind sprite.

            Aphrodite scoffs, “The incubus is lying.”

            “How do you know?”

            “If the easiest challenge was the riddle, why would the following challenge be just as easy, like being seen by an incubus. That can’t be the correct answer. Unless I’m supposed to be seduced by him? And in a competition to become the Elfin King’s Consort, that wouldn’t make sense.”

            “But…but how is he lying?”

            Aphrodite wrinkles her nose, “He must have stolen a human tongue so he can tell lies.”

            The wind sprite squeaks in surprise. Tongue stealing is one of the few ways nonhumans can do more than deceive. But, unfortunately, it’s nasty business, and humans aren’t particularly willing to depart from the spongey muscle.

            “Then what are you going to do, nymph?”

            Observing the incubus, she notices that he hasn’t moved around much, “I think I’ll have to get him out of the pavilion.”

            “That should be easy for you; after all, you’re a fairy knight.”

            Her eyebrow quirks up. She didn’t think the wind sprite would figure out her role during the Requimum of the Seasonal Princes. Wind sprites tend to be a bunch of snippy airheads. She guesses this one has more sense.

            “I’m afraid I can’t attack the incubus.”

            “Why not?”

            “My internal rules forbid me from dismembering nonaggressive fairies. And, since the incubus isn’t hostile, I can’t cause him harm.”

            “So, what are you going to do?”

            Seeing that the shadows grow longer as the sun descends, an idea comes to mind, “I’m a celestial nymph. The effects of the heavens on the earth are within my domain of power. And I am quite skilled at influencing shadows.”

            Manipulating the sunset shadows, Aphrodite creates a shadow double. She puppets the shadow doppelganger to catch the attention of the incubus by rustling the nightshade leaves. The shadow dances around the corner of the incubus’ eye enough times that he finally vacates the pavilion. The teasing giggles draw the incubus farther away and out of sight. Then, taking the small window of opportunity, Aphrodite and the wind sprite enter the pavilion themselves.

            In a tiny voice, the wind sprite asks, “So, what are we looking for?”

            “Remember the flower sigil upon the labyrinth’s wall during the first challenge?”

            “I do.”

            “That’s what we’re looking for now,” Aphrodite carefully lifts a decorative vase.

            “Check the seating; the sigil could be there!”

            “Are you even looking?”

            “No, you just asked me to point you in the right direction. Not to help you solve your problem, blooded nymph.”

            A cruel smile graces Aphrodite’s lips, “Praise Oshun, for I still have use for a wind sprite that flies.”

            As she looks around the pavilion, Aphrodite’s gaze sweeps across the marble floor, carved into is the Elfin King Ambrose’s sigil. With a tiny sound of triumph, she stands atop the sigil. The transportation magic circle activates and softly glows as it readies to teleport Aphrodite and the wind sprite to the next section of the labyrinth.

            A cry of frustration reverberates through the maze pathways as the incubus realizes he’s been tricked. Aphrodite’s shadow doppelganger must have dispersed into nothingness when the incubus caught it. Or the light of the teleportation circle signaled to him. The air shivers as the incubus’ wings slice through the air as he flies back to the pavilion. He was closer than she thought.

            The incubus’ seductive voice kisses up Aphrodite’s neck to her ear, “You’ve been a very naughty star; I’ll have to teach you better through a fun little game.”

            “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!” says the wind sprite.

            Aphrodite only holds the wind sprite’s cage closer as the magic circle barely erects a barrier wall to keep the incubus from interfering with those within it. Finally, the incubus appears before them in a passionate fury and steps into the pavilion. The glow of the magic circle intensifies as it readies to take Aphrodite and the wind sprite to the next section of the labyrinth.

            The incubus scoffs, “Congratulations, my star, for completing the second challenge. I’d say I had fun, but you didn’t even give me a taste.”

            “I would say you were a challenge, but I didn’t get a taste,” and with that, Aphrodite and the wind sprite transport to the final challenge area.

            At the end of the Sweet Nightshade Labyrinth, Aphrodite and the wind sprite find the area eerily quiet after the moans of anguish from the previous section. Sensing that it should also remain silent, the wind sprite only points in the direction Aphrodite should go. Thus the duo noiselessly make their way to the end of the labyrinth. The tension causes the air to thin as both dread what could be wandering through the maze with them. The wind sprite’s wings twitch with nervous energy, and Aphrodite’s eyes never halt in their surveillance of the area.

            Out of nowhere, the atmosphere turns soggy with the briny taste of the deep sea. Then a drowned neigh resonates through the maze’s pathways. The nightshade flowers shiver and gray. The air stills in fright. The water running through the irrigation system halts its flow. And the wind sprite whimpers as Aphrodite freezes from her forward momentum. A haunting soak trot grows closer, and Aphrodite dives into a shadowy corner. Fearing that they wouldn’t be hidden enough, she wraps herself and the wind sprite in a cacoon of darkness to ensure whatever is patrolling the paths won’t see them.

            Aphrodite barely feels hidden when she and the wind sprite watch the nuckelavee pass by them. The skinless abomination is on the hunt for participants to capture and likely drown in the cold sea. Catching the stench of raw burnt flesh, she identifies Ambrose’s sigil branded onto the nuckelvee’s chest. King Ambrose wanted to ensure no one passed the last challenge or survived before her. She is one of the few fairies to ever battle a nuckelavee and live. Blessedly, the sea isn’t close. So there’s no chance for the nuckelavee to retreat and collect its strength once injured. Since a nuckelavee is from the briny depths of the sea, she will need fresh water to halt its movements. Staying within the shadows, Aphrodite slowly gathers fresh water from the irrigation system into a jug crafted from the darkness. The process is slow and soundless, as she only stays in one section of the maze for a short time as the nuckelavee is always searching. Finally, after three passes around the limited area, Aphrodite feels secure that she’s gathered enough water. Not sensing the nuckelavee near her, she springs her plan into action.

            Dividing her bounty in half, Aphrodite morphs one part of the darkness into storm clouds. She then has the false clouds rumble across the sky and rain upon the labyrinth. A furious scream bounces off the maze walls. Following where the shriek came from, Aphrodite runs to the heart of it.

            The wind sprite shouts over the wails, “Why are we going toward the nuckelavee!”

            Aphrodite says nothing as a wicked smile conquers her lips. She glides to a halt before reaching the nuckelavee and sees it paralyzed by the rain. Steam rises from its burning flesh as raindrops hail onto the skinless creature. Wasting no time, she uses the second half of the gathered water to create a circling river around the nuckelavee trapping it. Without any way to escape from her trap, Aphrodite’s shoulders relax, but the wind sprite squirms. She then reveals herself to the nuckelavee, much to the wind sprite’s anguish. Gazing upon its captor, the nuckelavee bellows out a screech of anger as the false rain stops. The wind sprite trembles and tries to hide inside its cage. Aphrodite only smirks, knowing there is nothing the nuckelavee can do. Raising her hand to the sky, she summons her sword. Grasping at the sunset, her hand holds onto a handle, and as she draws it towards her body, a blade the color of the evening sky forms. It has been thirty years since the elfin Sword of Evening was summoned by its mistress. The sword blushes in delight to sing the song of death again. The wind sprite gasps in awe as the nuckelavee trembles in terror. Nothing survives a killing blow from one of the ten elfin Swords of Night and Day.

            The nuckelavee desperately tries to find a break within the magically made river. But Aphrodite ensured the circle had no gaps, so it couldn’t escape her blade. So when the nuckelavee finally accepts its fate, she raises the Sword of Evening above her head and slashes it downward. A crimson crescent of dying daylight cuts the nuckelavee open from the sternum of its human head through the top of its horse head. Any blood the nuckelavee could have bled colligates from the heat of the attack. The nuckelavee’s horse legs buck under its dead weight and collapse onto the labyrinth floor. Piercing the sky with the tip of the Sword of Evening, Aphrodite resheaths it. She then puppets the nuckelavee’s shadow to control its corpse. Guiding the nuckelavee’s long arms, Aphrodite has the nuckelavee’s hands grasp the fractured edges of its busted open rib cage. Carefully, the hands open the nuckelavee’s chest as a pair of double doors. Bones moan out in distress as the hands break the nuckelavee’s torso open wider until a walkable gateway is created. With its torso unable to widen anymore, she drops her control over the nuckelavee’s shadow. Gazing through the nuckelavee’s chest, Aphrodite sees members of the Court of Blossoming Spring waiting on the other side. With the gate out of the Sweet Nightshade Labyrinth ready, Aphrodite, with the wind sprite in hand, walks through the nuckelavee’s torso. The watching Whishperers chatter among themselves as they relay Aphrodite’s feat throughout the maze. A mystical wind races through the labyrinth and rejects all the competitors trapped inside.

           Once on the other side, Aphrodite releases the wind sprite from its shady birdcage. The wind sprite gives her a large smile, displaying its needle-like teeth.

           “It was fun, nymph, but I’ll receive my honey and apple slices later,” the sprite then zips off to reunite with the other wind sprites.

           Aphrodite gives her former companion a small wave of goodbye. She then takes a brief walk to where she hears the rest of the Court of Blossoming Spring. It’s a selkie that spots her first and shouts congratulations at Aphrodite. After that first cheer, the entire court erupts in cheers celebrating the new Consort of King Ambrose. Fresh flowers and melodies of triumph swell and bubble up to the heavens. Aphrodite floats through the crowd until she reaches the center of the mass of fairies. But a hush settles upon the court as Elfin King Ambrose approaches her with the Consort Flower Crown. The crown is made of forever blossoms, purple roses, lunar pearls, and gold. Weaved together into a circlet crown. All the fairies kneel as King Ambrose places the crown atop Aphrodite’s head. He then leans close to his new spouse and whispers his congratulation. And Aphrodite takes a kiss from her husband’s lips. END.