Anything Your Heart Is Set On (H/S1/E1/I6)

The sin read setting in the West
When Papa and Windy left.
The Fairwood Festival was not far,
And they were quick to be wary of theft.
The Festival could be rough
Once the sun set.
And the air hummed silently
With the lingering threat.

Windy wound her way
Through the thinning crowds,
She made her way to the market square,
Where slave trade was allowed.
She found the Pirate’s simple stall,
And pointed at the young man she’d seen.
Papa Bog looked at him,
And the pirates. He didn’t look that keen.

Papa: “Windy, what do you think you’re doing?
I told you we can’t feed him.”

Windy: “You said whatever my heart is set on.
Can’t you see his situation is grim?
I’ll feed him with my own food portion.
If it comes down to that.
I’ll nurse him back to perfect health!”

Papa: “Yet another brat!”

Windy frowned and made to leave,
But Papa’s hand meet her shoulder.

Papa: “For now you may take care of him.
I’ve seen you grow somehow… Bolder.
Windy, you are one of my youngest ones,
But your compassion knows no age.
I will by the boy for you.
He will be your paige.”

Papa then set negotiating,
For the young man’s release.
The fact that they’d attacked his home,
Made the talking brief.
Papa Bog bought him for next to nothing.
And the three of them went home.
And for the first time in Windy’s admittedly short life,
She felt she wasn’t alone.

Song Of Healing (H/S1/E1/I7)

This Issue is from the point of view of Windy Bog.

I took him into the laundry shed,
Where he’d live for now.
He hadn’t said a word to us
Since we three left town.
No thank you’s or smiles,
Perhaps he was a mute.
Or perhaps he’d lived in dire straights,
Eventually we’d learn his roots.
For now he needed comfort.
A simple, happy life.
I wouldn’t make him do chores for a while.
He deserved time of from his fights.

Windy: “I really hope you like it here.”

I said while bandaging his arm,

Windy: “We have a lot of hands that make light work.
And it’s not like we run a farm.”

He nodded without any emotion,
His mind was in some other place.

Windy: “You are not a slave anymore.”

I reached up and touched his face.

Windy: “We all do our share to run this place.
But for now you’ll heal and rest.
You were very fortunate I saw you.
In fact, I’d say you’re blessed.”

I paused… And a smile came across my face.

Windy: “I know just what I’ll do!
Until you supply me with a name of your own,
That is what I shall call you!
Blessed, I hope you enjoy your stay!”

I smiled and hugged him like a net.
But winter still approached us both.
And Blessed was not healed yet.

Blessed’ worst injury
Had been a blow to his head.
And there were many times it could have stolen him.
Many times he should have been dead.
Seizures and epilepsy,
Gripped him every week.
And in the two months he stayed in my care,
He never found the time to speak.

Then one day, frostbitten with the cold,
His seizures took him once again,
And I prayed. For he was worth more than gold.
I had a sense this would be the last time,
If he lived or if he died.
And there was nothing I could do to tip the scale.
So while holding his wrist, I cried.

To comfort him, and myself,
I sang my favorite song.
The one The Bard sang of the Winged People,
For Blessed, I had to be strong.

Windy: “From the heights of Kashlawn Spier,
We beg you all, do not fear.
This song you live is written out.
Each line, each note. Have no doubt.
The Great Songwriter gave us this view,
And we can’t see everything. But this much we choose,
To believe in his song, as he wrote it.
No change can change it. Not one little bit.”

His thrashing slowly quieted.
And then his body dropped.
He took a deep breath and casually,
It all came to a stop,
Leaving his peaceful breathing,
As music to my ears.
I thanked Songwriter quietly,
For quelling all my fears.

Blessed Has Left (H/S1/E1/I8)

The Mora trees began to bud,
It was Spring again.
Windy went to check on Blessed,
Perhaps new life would begin.

But when she arrived, she found his bed empty.
With no trace of where he’d gone.
She did not want her family to panic
So she searched for him by dawn.

Frantically back and forth she searched,
Looking for tracks on the ground,
Or broken leaves along the path,
Or any hint of sound.
He probably wouldn’t head toward town,
So she headed for the docks.
And what she saw when she arrived,
Made her stare and gawk.

Blessed stood over two bodies,
Lying on the docks,
He’d obviously fought them both on his own.
That was quite a shock.
They were pirates by their tattoos,
What crew, she didn’t know.
Blessed jumped down into their boat,
And made to leave them though.

Destination (L/S1/E1/I9)

Windy: “Please don’t go!” Windy yelled,
As Blessed froze in his tracks.
Windy: “What is wrong? Where are you going?
Please, Blessed! Just come back!”

Blessed looked around, obviously effected-
By what Windy had to say.

Windy: “Caring for you has been my mission.
Please don’t just run away!
If you have to leave, please take me with you!
I am stronger than you readily know.
Even before I was adopted by the Bogs,
I took mighty blows!”

Windy unbuttoned her dress in back,
And showed Blessed two scars,
Right around her shoulder blades,
As large as jelly jars.

Windy: “I was only a little baby,
When these were given to me.
If I am tough enough to sustain that,
I’ll do anything you set in front of me.”

Windy re-buttoned her dress,
Blessed looked down and frowned.

Windy: “Why are you leaving?” Windy asked him,

Then Blessed spoke…

Blessed: “My crown.”

Windy cocked her head, confused-
By Blessed choice of words.

Blessed: “I am The Crown Prince Fortinato.
Ka’Lanner is where my heart is spurred.”

Windy’s eyes grew wide in amazement,
As she made to bow before him.

Fort: “Don’t you dare, Windy Bog.
Without you, my fate would be grim.”

Windy’s eyes teared up as Fort
Approached and hugged her tight.

Fort: “If you come with me, you must be quick.
We must leave tonight.
Ka’Lanner was attacked by pirates like these,
But numbers their like I’ve not seen.
I fear The Dread Pirate know as Death Throat,
Is working on a scheme.”

My Own Song (H/S1/E1/I10)

Windy ran as fast as she could
Back home to get supplies.
In truth she had no clue what to bring
She had never left Fairwood’s green skies.
By the time that she had reached her house,
Very few had woken up.
She crept into their storage shed,
And began to look for cups.

Cruncher: “I always knew you were crazy.”

Cruncher said, making Windy jump.
He walked around and sat down
On a stool made out of a stump.

Cruncher: “Running off with your handsome stranger?
Leaving both Mom and Dad?
Where are your priorities, Windy?
They gave you everything you had!”

Windy paused for a moment,
Formulating a reply.

Windy: “This isn’t the place for me, Cruncher.
It’s time for me to fly.
You all care, but you do not seek
The Great Songwriter’s face.
It’s time that I take my things,
And go seek my own place.
And even if my trip is cut short,
And it isn’t very long,
I must go now Cruncher.
I must seek my own song.”