Jessica the Weaver

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by dfeyder

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The Story Teller

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(this is the cover from my third book "the Story Teller" )
Mother Corn is a young Kobolt (small mouse like humanoid) she has long front teeth and silvery black white speckled fur long and slick as-well-as bright blue eyes so to do her seven children, only six of which traveled wither her today, the seventh staid with the forest medicine mouse.
Corn has traveled to the old acres in search of thee madden called “Jessica the Weaver”. She remembers when she was a dumpling herself Jessica the weaver was a loved and admired women, but after an argument with the spiritual leader of the clans she was labeled a witch and banished to the dark side of the isle. It was a sad day for the clans but Jessica had quiet dignity; she made no fuss as she left.
The clans on the other hand were more than discontented. The loss of their Weaver resulted in much of tribe turning against the church and creating their own government. That was almost twenty seasons ago and Corn can only hope that time has been good for the Weaver for she desperately needs her wisdom.
The forest is dark and dead at this end, the trees are white the land is gray, the trees flutter with black feathers. Deep red eyes come into sight from high in the treetops. Corn hastens her children’s steps. Evil black birds descend upon them, their beaks of steel nip at the children’s necks. Mother Corn throws herself at the birds protecting them with the utmost of affection. The birds fall from the trees like armies of the dead. A claw grips Corn’s wrist and a beak tacks her thigh, the evil birds cry out in victory as the mouse maiden falls to her back, vampearicly they drink form her wounds.
Boldly the boy called Pepper reaches into the mud and draws out a hefty bit of wood. With all the force he can muster he pulls the stick overhead and cleaves down at the winged devil on his mother’s lag, the girl called Cream fallows her twins lead gripping another by its wings she bites the crow. Frightened by the assault the birds fly up into the trees to regroup for yet another strike.
Butter and Garlic (the youngest of the group) take Corn by the arms pulling her to her feet. Limping they family fumbles through the trees. blackbirds taunt them from behind the scent of fresh blood filling their harts with fire and their veins with lust. Ahead the trees turn greener and the voice of the trees beckon them onwards as does a soft voice awaiting them in the grotto. “Come forth darlings, and make all haste.”
A untraditional kobolt awaits with bright tanned fur and a rob, not earth toned like the ones Corn and her children dawn but one like thoughts in the old times with the colors of the town flag about them, vibrant red commanding attention is her color with a golden inner lining. This kobolt stands slightly hunched forward and has no fur on her tail or hands like Corn and atop her noise sits two bits of crystal held together by a needle and string. “I see you Kari, face me if you dare.” she whispers to the trees and the black birds fluttering form atop them. Passing from darkness into light Corn and her family cross in unseen wall that seems to eminent form within the powerful and beautiful Weaver, The birds are turn away.
Corn cannot understand what has transpired, only that she and her children were offered salvation. Upon catching her breath Corn raises herself from the prism of blossoms and falls into the loving arms of Jessica the Weaver. To spite ten sessions apart she intently recognizes the face of the heroic storyteller. Corn dares not speak a word, Jessica instead offers greeting “you are weary darling, please come inside” the motherly Weaver cradles the young mouse-mother wrapping her cloak about her and leading the lot into a modest hut.

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