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The Genesis Of Rubai (standard:fantasy, 3378 words)
Author: everlasterAdded: Mar 17 2007Views/Reads: 1313/927Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Queen Mab of Faerie, already the most beautiful and most loved Fairy on Aeval, knows that even her life is short. But she has a plan that will ensure her name and her beauty will be remembered for thousands of years.
 



The Genesis Of Rubai A short story by Michael Horne Copyright © Michael
Horne, 2007 

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons
Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License. To view a 
copy of this license, visit 
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.5/ or send a letter to 
Creative Commons, 543 Howard Street, 5th Floor, San Francisco, 
California, 94105, USA. 

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must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or 
licensor. *	Noncommercial. You may not use this work for commercial 
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upon this work. For any reuse or distribution, you must make clear to 
others the license terms of this work. 

* * * * * * * * * * For information and more works by the same author
visit www.everlaster.com 

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The Genesis of Rubai 

From The Histories of Aeval 

With the grace and stealth of a floating bubble Queen Mab XXXIII lowered
herself to the hot sand, her retinue of Fairies landing around her.  
The sand was of a beach that crept from the water and spread as far as 
the eye could see for 180 degrees. 

“Nowhere else is there a sea this colour,” spoke the Queen, encompassing
the sherry coloured waters with a sweep of her arm.  “I will have my 
new palace by its side.” 

A young green skinned puck, who had not bothered landing as he did not
think they would be here long, tittered at the thought.  “But nothing 
can live here, oh Queen,” he giggled, “the sands are drier than the 
cheeks of the moon.” 

The Queen smiled.  “I shall do here today that which even the Trolls,
with all their size, would not think of.” 

This sparked much chatter amongst the other members of the Fairy court;
a mixture of the sceptical and the sycophantic. The former whispered 
fearfully and the latter spoken just loud enough, it was hoped, for the 
Queen to overhear. 

The monarch drew their attention to the burning horizon. 

Slowly approaching was, what seemed to be, a parade, in the midst of
which there was dragged a carnival float bearing the full-sized 
sculpture of a red dragon. 

As the parade came close, gasps travelled the Queen's retinue and wings
shivered with excitement.  For movement that had previously been 
interpreted as the quivering of the air turned out, in fact, to be the 
strugglings of a very real and very live dragon. 

Striding proudly at the front of this procession was Queen Mab XXXIII's
champion: The Carmine Crow.  His figure was unmistakeable even from a 
distance, enveloped as he was from head to foot in red.  No explanation 
for his arrival was needed for the Queen's entourage.  They all knew 
that the Queen's favourite had done the impossible: caught a ruby 
scaled dragon. Now they knew why he had spent the past six months with 
his best men and women deep in the rainforests. So great was the 
discrepancy between the size of the creature and those who had caught 
it, that a Fairy could walk between any two of its teeth, arms 
stretched wide. The Carmine Crow knelt before his Queen and took her 
petal soft fingers in his hands. 

The Queen's skin was white like cuttlebone and no pounding from the sun
could ever bronze it.  Against the red grape colour of The Carmine 
Crow's hand the iridescence of her own skin was particularly notable, 


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