Sparrow in Saturn R̶e̶t̶u̶r̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ Reborn

When I sat down to write this week my Camp NaNoWriMo characters for this session decided to get involved take over.This part is told from the POV of a tiny shape shifting magical being named Sparkie but who has just been referred to as "the imp" by Claudius, his Master's rich (possibly nefarious) benefactor.

Sparkie's Story

He doesn’t mind being called Imp. Even though that’s technically not what he is.

He was brought forth from a wisp of smoke and evolved over his journey’s with Tremaine. Though he insists he was made from flame and this led the man to dub him Sparkie. Spark, Sparkle, and sometimes Firestarter.

Names are what you make them, Tremaine tells him.

That was one of his first lessons. They will identify you as what you mean to them.

Good morning sunshine.

Rise and shine super star.

Get some rest now little friend.

Tremaine needed a companion and Sparkie learned that meant growing up quickly; becoming curious about the world around him. Figuring out the important things.

With Tremaine it was easy. He was exuberant in the life he was leading. The great treasure hunter. Notorious.

Their first time aboard an aether ship together made Sparkie understand completely.

________

Sparkie loved Ree from the first. She was the young ward of Tremaine’s benefactor, a man named Claudius, who mostly sent Tremaine to exotic lands searching for rare books.

Ree was the one who taught Sparkie about love and how the heart could ache.

They had tea parties.

He taught her how to play pirates.

She always wanted to wear a cape.

She read out loud to him from great leather bound tomes.

A is for abalone.

B is for bishop.

Their visits were always too short and by the time they returned it was, dancing at balls, curating the library, needlepoint, baking apple pies, card games and chess games.

And then one day during a round of Beggar My Neighbor,

Do you think fairies are real Sparkie?

I am real.

Yes, but you are a dragon.

So dragons exist but not fairies Ree?

Can you truly become fire? Like Trem says.

He wishes to please her. To make her laugh. To be that which she enjoys.

He sighs and feels alight. He com-busts in all directions. Summoning fire hurts, consumes.

He has known he is Wisp. He is soft scents on gentle breezes.

But he had become an actual pirate by then. He had learned to wield.

He was also Weapon.

He was steel and stone. He was pure magic. Born of smoke. Summoned by a lonely man on moonless night in the forest of Everglen.

_____________

Tremaine chooses each piece of wood and lays down incense and herbs. He says words of significance and then tosses a match dipped in sulfur onto the pile.

Nothing happened for a long time,Tremaine would say when telling this story. He went about and made camp. Heated a bit of food and coffee along the edge of the fire. Just as he was about to doze off, a bit of smoke swirled about his shoulder and then hovered before him and dissipated into the air leaving behind the daydream of a cloud of fine particles, an entire life lived in but a single breath.

Sparkie doesn’t call his master by his surname, like most, when they are alone. He is teacher, he is summoner, spell caster…demon catcher.

You are not a demon Sparkie, Tremaine insists but Sparkie is not so sure.

He doesn't mind being called Imp because he secretly wishes it was closer to the truth.

2am

3am

4am

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AN: I guess I have a thing for even numbers so this one is 250 words

Annabelle, Owen, Mouse

He hears the sound a split second before he hears her gasp awake. The unmistakable metallic snap of the trap he set a few days earlier without telling her.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into the darkness. “I had to.”

“It’s not me you have to apologize to Peter.” Annabelle says softly.

He knows. He kisses her bare shoulder and hopes she will be asleep again before he has to get up for work.

Later he wraps the trap and the body in three plastic bags and brings it out to the trash bin on the sidewalk on his way to the bus.

When Peter gets home from work she’s wearing a blue waistcoat and grey trousers. She has her back to him and is reaching up to return a book to the top shelf of their consolidated library which takes up an entire living room wall. Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness is on the record player. Peter stands in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and takes a moment to watch her.

Him, Peter corrects himself. It’s not what he was expecting but he’s not disappointed.

Peter clears his throat and his lover turns.

“Peter you’re home.” He says.

“Owen, it’s been a long time.” Peter steps into the room as Owen leans back against the bookshelf folding his arms over his chest; the sleeves of his collared shirt are rolled up to his elbows.

“Too long. It’s really great to see you. I hope you don’t mind. Annabelle had to smooth things over with Mouse.”

“Do you think she’ll want to talk to me?”

“Mouse?” Owen shrugs before turning back to arranging books. “Who knows? That girl can be so fickle.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re here.” Peter says honestly.

Owen turns his head toward Peter and smirks. He pushes his eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re just hoping I did the shopping.” He teases.

Peter tilts his head questioningly.

Owen laughs and gestures toward the kitchen. “There’s beer in the fridge and stuff for sandwiches, help yourself.”

Peter turns quickly back toward the kitchen. He can still see Owen as he sets the food and plates out on the island.

Peter watches the way Owen moves with his back slightly straighter than Annabelle and the casual set of his hips; the way he takes wider steps and holds his beer bottle by the neck instead of around the base.

Their long blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Peter has been told that Owen threatened to cut it once and Annabelle threatened buy cat eye glasses instead of the plain silver frames they all share.

Peter takes a long swig of his beer and begins slicing the fresh bread. He feels bad for Owen sometimes but Annabelle sets the rules on body modification.

Peter was confused in the beginning but he decided pretty quickly that he didn’t care how odd it seemed or ridiculous it sounded. Annabelle, Owen and Mouse share a body it was as simple as that and Peter loved them all. He met Annabelle first. Owen and Mouse came later.

He stopped trying to put a name to it anymore. He’s happy and it’s all that matters.

After a while, Owen joins Peter in the kitchen. While they eat they talk about books and flirt like they just met until Owen backs Peter up against the wall and bites gently at his neck. They kiss all the way to the bedroom, laughing as they stumble over each other.

When he wakes up alone in the bed later that night he calls out for Owen and instead he finds Mouse. She’s sitting on the window ledge illuminated by the light from the streetlamp outside. Her hair is almost covering her face and her knees are tucked under her chin.

“I’m sorry,” He says immediately. “I won’t ever do it again. I’ll buy those humane traps I swear and we can set them free together.”

“I know Peter. I just—,” Mouse breaks off and Peter rises from the bed to put an arm around her shoulders.

“I know it’s silly, it’s like my – my spirit animal or whatever.”

“I get it. I don’t know what I was thinking. Forgive me?”

She takes a deep breath before nodding. “Yeah.”

“It’s cold. Come back—Come to bed.” He helps her off the ledge and they settle under the covers.

When he wakes up again the sun is up and Annabelle is smiling at him.

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--Eh, this started out as magical realism and became something else. Feedback appreciated since it’s pretty experimental (and came to me after two days of fever dreams.) I almost took a BYE instead of posting it but I decided to take a chance.