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Of Ballads & Bumpy Black Toads
A tiny tale for teatime reading | ~10 minute read
The Prompt:
🍄 A bumpy black toad reads the poetry of a prince hidden in the enchanted hollows of a secret tree
The Art:
Illustration of a tree stump stacked with a prince's secret poetry journals. A bumpy black toad sits atop the stump, guarding the hollow against a woodland critter trying to sneak his own works into the collection.
Illustrated by Zack Castro @paintcapsule
The Tale:
The small child with wild brown curls and chocolate smeared across his chin was back again. He stumbled through the weeds and thorny bracken towards a small, hollowed tree stump, carpeted with lichen and tiny golden mushrooms.
In the child’s grasp was a thick stack of pages, roughly bound with cloth and bark. Resting against the stump—to the chagrin of one small, bumpy-backed amphibian observing from the liquid shadows of a nearby puddle—the child spread out his pages across the grass and began to scribble.
The sun was near to setting when the child finally packed his mess away, stowing the stack of pages in the tree’s dark hollow. The child fought his way back through the grass and, at long last, away from the peace of the observer’s domain.
The child returned the next day, and the day after that. Day by day, week by week, month by month, the observer took to hopping up atop the stump when the child was too absorbed in his writings to notice, watching as the scribbles became letters, and then words.
They were beautiful words. Well chosen and scribed in wobbling lines and dashes. Beautiful words became beautiful sentences, and the observer learned to think entirely new thoughts. They rose and curled, like smoke and the scent of new leaves, germinating, quickening, burgeoning into feelings the observer had no name for.
The observer flicked out his tongue at a passing mosquito and waited for the child to return.
Return he did. Year after year, the child and his curls grew, his bearing as wild as his thoughts, both exquisite in their chaos.
The child had long since discovered the observer, and had begun to ask his opinion.
“What do you think of this line here? I don’t think the rhyme scheme quite conveys the way a dance feels like swimming, but only when you let yourself fall from step to step...”
The observer blinked and snapped his tongue.
“No, you’re quite right, the stress is all wrong, how about...” the boy took several long moments to scribble over his words with new thoughts. “...this?” The observer tilted his head in regard and decided he quite liked both ways, and gave a loud croak to say so.
“Well that’s not spectacularly helpful, Gale. Do you mind if I call you that? Gale? I think it’s a rather regal name for a black toad, especially one so bumpy as yourself. I’m a prince you realise, and a prince must have a regal familiar.”
The observer considered the new word. It felt like marshland and the howl of a spring deluge. Gale approved.
Gale took it upon himself to guard the prince’s words. His deepest secrets and most beautiful thoughts. Book after book, stack after stack, piled up within the hollow.
Sometimes the witch with livid hair and eyes like a deep lake would come, and Gale would have to learn the new skill of how to share his prince. After a bite to the witch’s finger, a stern scolding from his prince, and gifts of glimmering moonflies from the intruder herself, Gale’s jealousy was appeased.
Sometimes creatures would scamper up to the hollow, sniffing curiously at the cloth and leather bound pages. For these, Gale bore no patience, and would scare them away with a croak like thunder.
Sometimes the rain, like his namesake, would pour down and threaten the prince’s treasures. Yet Gale, having learned one or two secrets from the witch, bellowed back, diverting rivulets and sheets of cold rain away from the mouth of his prince’s hollow.
Weary from a sleepless night in battle with a summer storm, Gale basked in the prince’s praise of his stalwart service. The prince fed Gale worms and crickets, and allowed him to sleep in his coat pocket.
Sometimes the prince would forget Gale was there, and Gale would get to go on adventures through the palace and the catacombs, forgotten crypts and half-buried libraries, lush gardens that sprouted in caves, and dark thickets of a forest whose heart keened with sorrow.
Gale saw the prince’s world in fragments, snatches of sounds and sensations, strange scents and stranger tastes. Much like his prince’s poetry, Gale learned a new world, stanza by stanza.
Gale slept on silk pillows, watching over the prince as he dreamed up new ballads.
Gale forgot about the hollow.
Until.
Gale woke to the sound of thunder and the tickle of curls beneath his chin.
The prince sat up, disgruntled, as lightning flashed beyond the window, dislodging a still more disgruntled toad from his soft bed.
The prince blinked at Gale, and Gale blinked back.
“Oh... Oh dear, if you’re here, then... My books!” The prince scrambled from his downy bed and pulled on his boots. Gale croaked and leapt into the prince’s coat pocket as he pulled it on with a violent shrug, tearing out of the room into the hall beyond.
Ignoring the shout of the guard by his door, the prince raced down stone corridors, thumping over lush woven carpets, and dashed out into the rain.
Puddles splashed, showering Gale in mud as the toad clung to the lip of the pocket. Sodden footfall chased behind them as three guards pursued the prince, who was now leaping over logs and crashing through the underbrush towards his hollow.
“No...”
The prince sank to his knees as they entered the small clearing, the fabric of his trousers soaking through with muddy water.
Icy rain was pouring sideways into the hollowed tree stump, drenching the whole stack of books from top to bottom. Shuffling forward, the prince tried in vain to shield the books as he lifted a leather-bound journal from the top of the pile.
Gale hopped from the prince’s pocket to once more stand guard atop the rough, mossy stump. With a croak that shattered the driving rain and whistling winds to stillness, Gale watched in shame and misery as the prince grieved his words.
The crash and cracking of leafy brambles heralded the arrival of the three pursuing guards.
“Fate’s sake, child, what are you thinking of chasing out here in the middle of a storm— Oh... oh dear.” The guard in front holstered his club of carved bone and placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder. The child turned and presented the ruined book with a tearful grizzle.
With a heaving sigh, the guard wrapped the prince’s coat tighter about him and lifted him from the earth in a cradle hold.
With a few terse, muttered instructions, the other guards retrieved the rest of the books and made to leave the clearing, following behind the guard holding the weeping prince.
Gale croaked in despair, his chest aching with failure. Had he been here, he would have staved off the storm. Had he been here, instead of content and dreaming on a silk pillow which did not belong to the likes of bumpy black toads such as himself, his prince would not be mourning years of beautiful thoughts now ruined.
Defeated, weary, and heartsick, Gale nestled into a patch of moss and closed his eyes, listening to the rustle and snap of ferns as the guards stomped away.
Gale doubted he would ever see his prince again.
As the footsteps faded into the distance, and Gale’s magic melted away to allow the rains to fall across the clearing once again, a voice cried out from the far thickets.
“Wait!” the prince called. “Gale! We have to get Gale, turn back, please!”
Gale sat up as the chatter of a frustrated and longsuffering argument approached. The guards re-emerged through the dark and soggy trees, the prince still curled up in the lead guard’s arms.
The prince stretched out, nearly toppling from the guard’s grasp as he reached his hand towards Gale.
“Oof, hold still will you— What? That’s Gale? Good gander, little princeling, you’re going to be the death of us,” the guard grumbled, lips twisting in disgust beneath his avian mask as he caught sight of Gale huddled on the tree stump. “Fine... why not, shall we go fishing for leeches next? How about a nice stew of tree slime or—”
The prince took no heed of the guard’s muttering as he beckoned for Gale with pleading brown eyes. Coiling himself against the rough bark, Gale kicked out his legs in a great leap—arcing, arcing through the air—and landed with a squelch on the prince’s chest.
“Gale!” the prince cried in joy, caressing the bumps across his snout.
“Blegh,” the guard gagged. “All ready then? Got your swamp thing? Got all our diaries? Excellent.” The guards about-faced, crunching across the sodden earth back towards the palace.
In the days that followed, Gale watched as his prince laid all his pages out in the wan autumn sun to dry. All the charcoal writings had smudged, but only a very few pages were completely unsalvageable.
Day by day, as the pages dried, and the prince examined his work, the ache in Gale’s chest eased. All had not been lost, and the prince was very kind to his familiar.
“I think,” the prince mused as he fed small glowing bugs to Gale where he sat atop a stone windowsill, “that we need a better place to hide our poetry.”
Our poetry. Gale croaked a contented agreement, the warmth of affection filling his stomach as surely as the glittering flies.
Gale listened and watched and wandered with the prince. He chased away all the scratching and scrabbling terrors of dark places as they renewed their adventures in search of secret havens.
The prince spilled more words across fresh pages, and Gale learned the names of new feelings. The witch would visit and trade flowers for a prince’s thoughts, and Gale was only a small bit jealous.
Gale lived in pockets and the silky beds of feather pillows and, more often still, the silken nest of his prince’s bark-brown ringlets, curling up to dream of ballads.
~~~
✨ Read more tales!
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My wood elf ranger Faedhuinn hanging out in a tree.
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Self indulgent fanart of my character Faedhuinn hanging out with Frieren.
#frieren anime#clip studio paint#art#illustration#digital art#fantasyart#fanart#wood elf#ranger#mage#frieren: beyond journey's end
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I hope every single person who puts nice comments in tags under reblogged art knows that you you guys are the backbone of society. Being an artist online sucks these days, but here on tumblr I still get compliments under artworks that I made years ago. I hope you know every WOW and heart emoji and heartfelt compliment and funny comment you left in the tags is part of the reason I kept drawing all these years, in spite of everything that was going on.
I've been screenshotting the nice tags I get for years, and at this point it would be literal thousands of lines if I still had my old files. I love u tumblr users <333333333
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This or that... Which tiny tale would you rather read over a brew of tea? ✨ One about:
🍁 a ghost who giggles as they chase the memory of their twin around the ribbons of encircling tree trunks
or…
🍄 a bumpy black toad who reads the poetry of a prince hidden in the enchanted hollows of a secret tree
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My entry into the cryptid fiasco art challenge created by artwiththedragonking over on threads. My entry is a Bunyip, a silly hat was part of the challenge.
#art#clip studio paint#digital art#timelapse#drawing#fantasyart#cryptid#bunyip#silly hat#monster art#illustration#monster design#process video
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Painting more of the Faewood from @brightwitchbrews stories.
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Timlapse of my painting of Marmalade's treehouse, from the stories of @brightwitchbrews
I hope you enjoy all of the tiny details.
#art#digital art#painting#illustration#krita#timelapse#fantasyart#forest#tree house lodge#witch#colorful
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Happy Halloween to all the little wyrmlings!! I’m in university now so there’s been a loooong wait for the next comic, but here it is!
Patreon | Redbubble | Webtoon
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Wood elf ranger commission I painted.
#art#clip studio paint#character art#digital art#fantasyart#wood elf#elf#ranger#dnd commission#dnd character#dnd art#bow and arrow
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Fae & Fire Cover Reveal
This is the cover for my most recent Ghosts of Grimwood novelette, Fae & Fire!
The incredible cover illustration was done by Zack Castro @paintcapsule. We had many discussions about the shape of the dragon's teeth and little Prince Ethan's stance facing down a ghost beast!
Teatime Reader & Daydreamer Patrons can read the tale on Patreon:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/88686184
The tale will be available in eBook and print formats by the end of the month!
Tale Summary
As a boy of seven, Prince Ethan dreams of heroes and fiends. However, when he is woken by war bells in the dead of night, he comes face to face with terrors beyond the darkest tales.
In his efforts to keep his family safe from the haunting thrall of rising ghosts, he is faced with impossible choices that threaten to doom those he loves most.
This is the tale of the Battle at Great Fall, an historical event mentioned in my ongoing novel, Marmalade's Love Potion.
I hope you enjoy the art as much as I do!
love & ghosts,
Bright Witch
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As an Ether Dragon rampages through the halls of Grimwood palace. Young prince Ethan is cornered in his attempt to lure it away from his family.
Cover art for one of @brightwitchbrews
stories.
#art#digital art#clip studio paint#dragon#dark fantasy#ghost dragon#spooky#cover art#speed paint#art process#timelapse
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"Gather 'round ladz, and let me tell yooz da story of how I became.. DA SNEAKIEST GIT!!"
#art#clip studio paint#digital art#drawing#character art#illustration#orktober#orks40k#warhammer 40k
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Claudia’s sister, Francine, is the rising star of Alchemy, determined to achieve the impossible.
As Claudia prepares to choose her own path as a Grimwood acolyte, she is terrified her destiny will never measure up.
A choice made in haste will haunt her beyond death.
As Claudia journeys through realms of myth, struggling to hold onto the most precious fragments of herself, her sacrifices may be the key to a miracle of magic.
~~~
Ghost Lights is a short and (bitter)sweet novelette that is perfect for reading over a hot brew of tea if you love:
🌙 Alchemy
🌙 Dark academia vibes
🌙 Serious/playful sibling dynamics
🌙 Close sisters (with angst)
🌙 Adventures through the underworld
🌙 Slightly unhinged deities
🌙 Existential horror (but ✨pretty✨)
~~~
Ghost Lights eBook and companion printable poster now available in my shop!
✨ Shop Ghost Lights eBook
~~~
Gorgeous cover illustration by: Zack Castro @paintcapsule
~~
love & flowers,
Bright Witch
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Finally made a cover for my novel, Marmalade’s Love Potion! ☺️ It’s a cosy romantic fantasy with a snackable dose of dark fairytale vibes, perfect for teatime reading.
Currently a work in progress, I publish chapter by chapter to my website and email list for free!
~~~
Take a peep if you love:
✨ Magic and alchemy
✨ Enchanted forests you’d dream to get lost in
✨ Hurt/comfort
✨ Friends to lovers (happy ending)
✨ Found family
✨ Slowburn romance
✨ Beautiful ghosts
✨ Mind melting sensory luxury (tea, snacks, bath houses, fantastical shops and apothecaries, charming domestic trinkets, ethereal fabrics & gowns, cosy cottages)
~~~
📚 Keep up with the tale and my other works at:
brightwitch.com/teatime-tales
🖼️ Cover illustration by Zack @paintcapsule
🌙 love & daydreams!
Bright Witch
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