myth for iris prismatica

Hunched, Ivy regarded the red palace before him, the red knight breathing heavily from his struggle beside him. Exhaustion flagged them both.

The wind blew cold, even though the sun shone down, wind and sun, aggressive, equally, tears hovered at his eyes from embarrassment and rage. From fear, from the bright sun, he might have muttered. Not only had he left with nothing but a root in the ground, but the queen found him wrangled him like a trust calf, and within days brought him back.

The queen did not stand, nor did she do anything but stare at him. Eyes that could have burned a room, “My soil is not fixed, and all the water is still gone. And you left. Since you have proven yourself to be a useless thief, you will have the company of flames. You will be page to this knight here.” She gestured toward the massive red figure with armor, flat, red, no shadow of variation in the pulsing tone.. “He is completing the impossible task of finding my consort, the king. He will not survive this and nor shall you, but you will not be mourned. I know this. You will destroy the limestone kingdom, the two of you. My consort was kidnapped by them and she, and he is surely there.” Ivy vaguely remembered the knight's voice hard as he said he was the king's man.

They must have kept his disappearance a secret, then Ivy looked around, the land was so brittle outside the castle's arched windows. He too felt so dry he could have burned with it. Creaking, the door opened to Ivy's new chamber.

Walls, bare mud, a creature, a rat, round in, ran in figure eights by an urn with purple water inside, ‘a kingdom with no one, a queen with no army, a war against grass.’ He could not imagine his predicament. How would it be better to return to his mother's kingdom?

Would it be better to return to his mother's kingdom, and then turn on the Red Knight there, traitor on both accounts, or would he escape here? It was impossible. How could he escape again?

Just then, the rat was shocked by something and overturned the urn, and the fragrant water fell out, swimming, iris petals. The flower rose before him.

“Take a sprig of evening primrose, it said, and bring it to the queen. Take the way through the mountain. There you will find those you need to help you and make instead of a war, a decisive breeze. You will be stronger than you think you are. Now, even when the earth trembles and the moon falls from the sky.”