Beary Tales Read online

  BEARY TALES

  Written by

  Jennifer Malone Wright

  Willow Cross

  &

  KB Miller

  Cover by Mae I Design and Photography

  Edited by Brittany Carrigan

  Copyright © 2015 Willow Cross and Jennifer Malone Wright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

  CONTENTS

  Appendix

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Excerpt from Oceans of Red by Willow Cross

  Excerpt from Keeper vs Reaper by Jennifer Malone Wright

  Excerpt from Haunted Moon by KB Miller

  Appendix

  Concerning Fairies

  Fae: All magical creatures created by Mother Earth.

  Albeito: Magic term for transform

  Fairy Godmother: Title placed on a female fairy who is charged with protecting another creature. (Generally of the human species.)

  Fairy Godfather: Title placed on a male fairy who is charged with protecting another creature. (Generally of the human species.)

  Fairy Goduncle: Title is fictitious.

  Fairy: Magical creature created by Mother Nature to protect and guide those who have important destinies.

  Sprite: Magical creature created by Mother Nature to protect various plants and trees.

  Nymphs: Magical creature created by Mother Nature to protect living things pertaining to water.

  Brownies: Magical creature created by Mother Nature to protect things pertaining to soil and earth. (Particularly fond of stealing shiny objects humans leave lying around.)

  Faerie: The realm in which all things Fae reside.

  Fairy Historian: Position of great authority. The F.H. knows and documents every event which has occurred in the Fae or human realm.

  Secret Keeper: Title sometimes held in conjunction with Fairy Historian. The Secret Keeper is the Queens most trusted confidant.

  Hall of Secrets: Great hall located at the top of Crann Na Beatha where the Fairy Historian keeps records.

  Crann Na Beatha: Home of the Queen and most fairies in the fairy kingdom. Literally means tree of life. Also called Crann or The Crann.

  Mother Nature: Believed to be the oldest one. First born. Creator of all magical life.

  Concerning Witches:

  White Magic: Also called light magic. A natural form of magic which comes from the earth. Used mostly for healing and the betterment of others.

  Dark Magic: Also called black magic. Dark Magic is performed by using ‘bad’ energy from the witch herself. Used in conjunction with spell casting, Dark Magic is dangerous and sometimes deadly. Most users of Dark Magic go completely mad after prolonged usage. Evil.

  Spells: A combination of words and sometimes potions used to create a magical occurrence.

  Potions: Dry or liquid concoctions used to facilitate magic in spells.

  Cast: To create a spell.

  Summon: To call upon energy or elements.

  Babba Yagga: Slavic Witch who lives in a secluded hut in the big forest. One of three sisters who inherited magic, but turned to dark magic for enlightenment. The curse of Babba Yaga is passed down through generations in the same bloodline.

  Concerning Other Magical Creatures:

  Shifters: Human beings who can transform at will into an animal.

  Werewolves: Part Human, part wolf. Weres are believed to be mostly created through bites and transference of bodily fluids. A Were’s abilities can be inherited through the bloodline, but there is no guarantee a child born of a Were will become one.

  Hybrid: The offspring of two different species of magical creatures.

  Concerning Humans:

  Chica: girl

  Los Tres Cerditos: The Little Pigs

  Maître-de: waiter

  Farking: poorly formed swearword for f***ing

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time, something wicked was woven. A magic formed by darkness and pain, a magic that only the victim of a broken heart could have created.

  This story—like any other—has a beginning, a place where the heart now broken once held love. It begins with Goldalynn.

  Goldalynn was a true beauty, born in the south along the banks of the bayou. Her mother brought her into the world in the midst of a hurricane, screaming to those assisting her that she could feel the magic of her child within her, and she would live to be more powerful than the winds which destroyed the world around them.

  The dark haired child was named after her grandmother who had flowing locks of golden hair before she became old and frail with age. The grandmother may not have passed on her golden hair, but what she did pass on could not be seen from the outside…only those born of Goldalynn’s bloodline knew of their special gift.

  The women of their family were powerful; they carried a magic within them that the family had promised to nurture. They swore by the blood to keep their magic safe…and secret.

  “Goldalynn, harm none. This is the one rule you must remember when you use your power,” her mother told her one day when she was just a young girl. She sat at the large cutting board island in the center of the sunroom where they grew their own herbs. She watched her mother select ingredients from the shelves of colorful plants and add them to the large bowl she held in one hand.

  “I didn’t mean to do it.” Goldalynn frowned as she thought of the poor heron out in the swamp. “I just wanted to touch it,” she tried to explain further. When she had tried to approach the heron, it spread its wings wide in attempt to escape her, a human. But, she had wanted to feel its feathers beneath her fingers so desperately. The next thing she knew, the heron was screeching in pain as it’s blue and gray feathers pulled from its body.

  Before the feathers reached her waiting hands, fear wrapped around her like a blanket of darkness and she turned, running back home as fast as her small feet would take her.

  Her mother turned to face her. “Which is precisely the reason that we shall work harder for you to control what is within you. Accidents happen, but with time these mishaps will be but a memory.”

  After the heron, Goldalynn practiced magic, but only within her home and in order to control it. She longed to be normal, to be without magic that could hurt and kill.

  “Do you like being a witch?” she’d asked her aunt one muggy summer day.

  Her aunt had paused in her knitting and raised an eyebrow at her niece’s question. “I don’t like the word witch, it insinuates something evil.”

  “Well, what are we then?”

  “We are people, Goldalynn, just like anyone else.” With that, her aunt let the topic fade and went back to her knitting.

  Now, every story has many elements and Goldalynn is merely a portion of what brings this story full circle. She lived on the banks of the bayou on a plantation with a house the size of a castle, which had been in their family since Louisiana first settled around two hundred years ago. The southern mansi
on—complete with balconies and wraparound porch—always housed the women of their family, as it was rare for any man to survive long enough with a woman from Goldalynn’s bloodline. No one has ever figured out why the men who loved them always ended up dead.

  However, these women had beauty which the opposite sex were undeniably drawn to and they always ended up falling in love, only to have their men meet an unfortunate demise.

  Goldalynn was no exception.

  As a child she would run the grounds of the plantation, crossing the small forest of cypress and oak trees, trying to get a peek at the large white house which happened to be their closest neighbors. She would watch the workmen outside tending to the animals and building fences or small buildings. Something drew her to the big, beautiful house next door, and it wasn’t long before she found out what that special thing was.

  The small forest of trees provided shade, but did not protect her against the sweltering heat. Goldalynn had brought her little wicker basket filled with snacks and two of her dolls into the trees with her. She fully intended on having a picnic party with her inanimate friends, since she didn’t have any real ones. But, something interfered that day that would change her life forever.

  “Would you like more tea?” She offered her little teapot to the doll who sat propped up with a little plastic tea cup on its lap. “No?” She set the toy pot down onto the blanket beside her basket. “I suppose you’re right, the sandwiches were quite filling.”

  Suddenly, a slight snapping sound echoed through the trees. Goldalynn hopped to her feet, tumbling her teacup and sandwich to the ground. Thinking it was perhaps a gator or some other swamp creature her mother had warned her about, she silently began to back away from her picnic blanket with the intention of running home as quickly as possible.

  Another snap echoed through the silence of the trees, and then a footstep. She knew it was a footstep because the leaves made the same crunching sound as they did beneath her shoes as she walked. She may have been only ten years old, but she knew without a doubt it was a person who made that noise “Who’s there?” she called out.

  No one answered. It was silent again except for the light breeze that rustled the branches of the tree tops. “I know someone is there?” When she still did not receive an answer, she bent down and picked up a large stick that had fallen from one of the trees. Her body shook with fear and beads of sweat slid down her face, but she gripped the stick with both hands and charged forward.

  “Arrrggghhh!” she screamed with all her might, pummeling forward over the fallen sticks and branches of the forest floor with the stick held out in front of her, ready to strike.

  Movement streaked across her vision then veered back, coming straight toward her. She swung the stick with all her might, and it connected. A loud grunt and a very shocked, “Owww!”erupted from her victim. Still clutching the stick, Goldalynn staggered backward.

  Gathering her balance, she glanced down at the stick in her hand and saw that what had once been a bare, brittle piece of wood, was now a thriving branch, complete with lush green leaves that had sprouted from the broken nubs.

  Forcing back a screech and the urge to throw the magic sodden branch to the ground, she held onto it so she could move forward and get a better look at what she had hit.

  Her victim was a golden haired boy, whose face now had blood splattered across his cheeks, mingling with the freckles that graced his pale skin.

  She dropped the branch and her hands went to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Cautiously, she stepped forward. “What are you doing out here?”

  His hands covered his mouth and nose so he couldn’t answer her, but his blue eyes followed her every move.

  “Who are you?” Goldalynn demanded.

  With his hands still covering his mouth and nose, his response was muffled. “My name is William. I just moved in with my aunt and uncle.” He pointed in the direction of the big white house.

  Goldalynn pulled a white linen handkerchief from her picnic basket and offered it to him. Keeping his eyes on her, he accepted the handkerchief and held it to his nose.

  “I’m sorry about your nose.” She extended her hand. “I’m Goldalynn.”

  He tilted his head and considered her words for a moment, then reached out and took her hand in his. “Well, I’d better get back home for lunch.” He started backing away from her. “And, thanks for the handkerchief, Goldie.”

  That was the first moment that changed her life forever.

  For many years, Goldalynn and William were best friends. The two children were inseparable and spent every single moment they could with each other. As time passed their bodies began to change and so did their emotions.

  Goldalynn grew into a beautiful young woman who preferred the library over cheerleading. She attended the high school in their small town, only because she had pleaded with her mother to let her go so that she could be around William. Through history, the children in their family were homeschooled in order for them to learn the magical aspects of life as well as the curriculum they would learn in public school.

  William was a young man who was desired by most of the teenage girls in their small town, but he had eyes only for Goldalynn. He began working at the local market that was owned by his family. Actually, they owned many of the local businesses, but William preferred the market where he could talk to the townspeople whom he so loved.

  Goldalynn hated his job immensely because it took his time away from her. William consoled her by telling her he had to work if they wanted any kind of future together.

  Speaking of their future together, the engagement was announced at a large picnic by the water with both of their families present. William’s family was ecstatic, having always known that Goldalynn would be the woman that their young William would choose to spend his life with. But, Goldalynn’s family on the other hand, were not quite so happy about the engagement.

  “It’s a bad idea,” Goldalynn’s mother told her one day while they walked in the gardens harvesting the vegetables and herbs. “None of the men we have loved live very long. I just don’t want you to be disappointed when it happens to you.” She dumped a bunch of lettuce into the basket Goldalynn held.

  “It won’t happen to us, Mother. I am sure of it.” Goldalynn tried to sound enthusiastic, but she had been witness to conversation on this topic by the women in her family since she was born.

  Her mother shook her head in frustration and went to work cutting the zucchini loose from their vines. “No one is an exception. Don’t you think all of us have thought the very same thing? We were all in love once, we all wanted to think that we would be the ones whose love would be strong enough to…” She trailed off, unable to finish.

  Goldalynn did believe that the love she and William had was stronger than any other in their family and that it would overcome the impending death which loomed over them.

  “Goldalynn.” Her mother stood and glared down at her as she set the zucchini into the basket. “You do realize that marrying that boy is basically giving him a death sentence. If you do it, he will die, and it will be your fault.”

  “I’m marrying him, Mother.” She simply could not comprehend why her mother refused to see that her situation was different than the others. Being caught up in her own love story, it had escaped Goldalynn’s mind that her mother understood how she felt more than she would ever know.

  “Fine, marry him. But, you can’t say we didn’t warn you.”

  Time passed with William working and Goldalynn making wedding preparations. It wasn’t to be a large wedding, but a simple ceremony for both their families and close friends. After what seemed like forever to Goldalynn, the day of the wedding finally arrived.

  Outside the family home, rented white chairs had been set up with gold ribbons draped between them, separating them into two sections on the large expanse of lawn. The chairs faced a beautiful arbor with white roses and more gold ribbon had been woven between the carved swirls of wood. Beyond
the arbor, the bayou waters lined with cypress and draping Spanish moss created a serene backdrop, an ambience Goldalynn loved.

  Her dress was white, a symbol of her virginity and a stark contrast against her black hair. She spun in front of the full-length mirror, letting the full white skirt fan out around her. Catching her footing, she ran her fingertips across the corset part of the dress, admiring the perfection of the gold trim around the white satin. The dress dated all the way back to the 17th century. It had been her mothers and her grandmothers, and her great grandmothers and many more before them. Her aunt had done some alterations, removing the long sleeves and replacing them with cap sleeves. The tiny rhinestones glittering across her bust had been an addition as well.

  Her mother had spent hour’s intricately braiding miniature white roses into her hair, of which the top half was up and the bottom half she wore loose and flowing down to her waist. Behind her, her mother smiled, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes. “You look just like a fairy tale princess.” She wiped away a tear and fiddled with a few strands of Goldalynn’s hair that had gone astray.

  Goldalynn turned to apply a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek. “Mother. Please, don’t cry for me,” she whispered.

  Goldalynn’s mother tilted her head and admired her daughter again, knowing full well she could not tell her daughter that those were not only tears of joy, but also tears of sadness for the impending despair her daughter would soon face. However, if she chose to marry the boy, then she deserved the most happiness she could have until the terrible day arrived when she would lose him.