Storyteller's Home
Let's Read Another Perspective
This was the day. I raced down the stone-covered streets, up over the market stalls. Dodged banners, flags, and saggy awnings to jump up! Up, onto the metal fence railing - the speedway. I can cover half the distance across the city in a few minutes on that fence.
I jumped- across a corner! Claws clanged and scraped to hold on to the railing around the turn. Then I burst ahead faster and faster with each hop.
I am Kibber. I'm a rabbit. I'm a cat. I'm a cabbit. But you already figured that out, so now you know why I could take the fastest path possible. Next, I met up with Pyla and Deere. They had never seen a Storyteller. And I had become friends with the best Storyteller in the library! This was the day I promised Pyla and Deere a visit.
I met the two of them in the Courtyard of Barygon, after crossing the Market. Every queen for a thousand years had updated the courtyard to match their desires and the current queen was no different. We wandered between the exotic trees and bushes then made our way to the crystal greenhouse at the far side of the courtyard.
The vibrant stained glass panels of the walls and ceiling pulsed and turned. Living support structures grew between them. The colors and images shifted with the stories collected inside. This building wasn't some greenhouse. It was the Royal Library of the Spring!
Usually, you need an extraordinary tale to get an audience with a Storyteller. My friend liked my stories about racing across the city. I told her about my cooking at the market stand with my parents. I told her about the people passing by. She liked my tales - or at least my other tail - it's white and fluffy, see?
As Pyla, Deere, and I approached the gate, they were nervous. Sometimes the queen is feared more than liked, but it is generally sunny and good in the city even if we have little else to speak of. That was what my parents always said, so I knew I did not need to be afraid.
I knew I had impressed Pyla and Deere when the lock on the door opened with one press from my paw. *This was sort of a date, so I was trying to play it up a little*. We didn't race. We walked reverently along the minted path until we reached the tree with the buttercups. The Storyteller loved flowers. So I was not surprised to find them growing by her tree. I thought the buttercups spruced things up nicely. I told her so on several occasions.
The whole trip kind of fell apart at that point. I watched the new governor stomp away from The Storyteller's tree. I could see the tree glowing with warm energy and even the buttercups standing up tall. The governor did not look happy. When he was far enough away, I approached the Storyteller. I asked her, "Why was the new governor upset with you?"
The determination on her face turned into a frown. She did not know he was the governor. So I'm sure this was all a simple misunderstanding. She is the best Storyteller in the library and doing a fantastic job...
Kibber's non-stop description faded to silence.
He looked down the minted path at the many alcoves, each with a tree and Storyteller. None of them had flowers or other decorations.
The investigator turned to Pyla, Deere, and the guards holding them. "Return them to the market and their families with a warning." Then, pointing at Kibber, "we will hold this one for further questioning."
He looked at Kibber. "Your favorite Storyteller seems damaged. She should not be displaying external emotions. She misfiled the governor's story as fiction as well. Did you say she had you gather stories on people in the marketplace? Was she spying on them?"
Kibber's ears drooped, and he sat back on his hind legs. "She was not spying. She was just interested in everyone's story."
aw, poor Kibber
George Sanders
I know! That was a difficult moment.
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