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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1205907
Free of artifice ~ muse unleashed ~ she flies free ~ short story blowup for Two Tales
Manga's Story


Manga walked tall, head high, scanning the crowd of onlookers seated on splayed haunches around the dais. On her toes like the others, legs supported by thin-strapped spike heeled foot coverings, she appeared lithe and graceful. She had practiced the walk, called a strut, along with the other necessary mannerisms required for her debut.

Manga was not the first of her kind to attempt the transition, thought some of her forbears had tried to break through the barrier, with tragic results. But Manga was determined to succeed where others trying to break free of their niche had failed. She had studied these landlocked creatures while they slept, taking part in their dreams and fantasies, gleaning knowledge only her kind could assimilate in this way.

She had also studied them at length while they took part in their daily routines, and routine they were. They did not greet the morning sun with joy, but dragged slovenly carapaces out from under binding covers, absentmindedly exchanging rumpled garments for pressed outer coverings. They even added metal ornaments and paste to cover the remaining visible pieces of their anatomy. Clad in this burdensome raiment, they gathered in groups where the stated goal of the mainstream was altruistic support, the unstated, truthful one, the accumulation of wealth and power.

This was Manga’s goal, gathering power, having others admire her and answer to her command. She wasn’t completely selfish, however. She just wanted to show her peers that she could make these landlocked copycats, if not understand, appreciate her talent and creativity. The landlocked had long ago lost the ability to create, and could only copy and manipulate what others before them had made. With no real talent or imagination, they had allowed themselves to become landlocked. If Manga could but reach them on their level, she could perhaps enlighten some of them and teach them to see and hear the beauty of true reality.

To attain this lofty goal, Manga had studied hard over many cycles under the watchful tutelage of some of the most knowledgeable of her kind. She was ready for this debut. Although the bindings itched, she transcended the sensation of bondage by force of her will. Judging by the approving glances already directed her way, she apparently had mastered the haughty sneer studied and copied from the others on the dais. She must appear natural, her every movement effortless, as she prepared for this debut.

Manga recalled her first debut, which lead to her swift rise to fame among her peers. Her eyes, in particular, were copied throughout the realm, even reaching some of the landlocked. They attempted reproducing her image and visage in their crude art and by use of the paste they favored applying to their feline faces. Some of their efforts were passable, as witnessed by the mimicry surrounding her on the platform. The faces of the others standing tall in their pointed heels were decorated to appear very like hers, albeit hers was real and not painted on or attached with malleable glass to rheumy eyeballs. The colors on some of those contact lenses the mannequins wore appeared realistic, flashing blue and purple and magenta in the waning sunlight. Manga believed her natural beauty still outshone theirs, despite the airs the landlocked mannequins affected.

The music thrummed with a downbeat and each of the models was called in turn to showcase the coverings in which she was clad. A renowned land-based fabricator had designed the bindings, which would be copied in turn by many of those watching. As Manga turned the corner at the edge of the dais, her eye caught a glint of sunlight and she tripped, one stiletto heel locking with the other. To keep her from falling into the arms of the gathered multitude, her instincts took over. To regain her balance Manga’s wings unfurled, rending asunder the binding fabric so carefully tied across her body.

The crowd stood agape, dumbstruck by the vision of Manga unveiled in her natural beauty, devoid of all artifice. Unsheathing the sword tucked between her wings, she raised it in clasped hands to draw the strength of light and open a gateway through the enclosed edifice. The power of such a sword was unimaginable to the gathered multitude.

Sunlight streamed through the hole in the roof, casting rainbows of color from each languid movement of the faerie wings that lifted Manga with effortless grace skyward. For but a moment, Manga felt the bitter bile of failure. But gazing upon the wonderment in the upraised faces, she realized she had succeeded. The landlocked raised hands upward, reaching for a touch, whether real or figurative, of the joy of life that emanated from Manga.
Even though she had not managed to keep to her feet, inadvertently breaking free of her contrived chrysalis, she had won the regard and admiration of the multitudes. By being herself and casting aside artifice, Manga had made the entire realm aware of the beauty and magic that only she could create. Manga had blossomed forth from her niche and gone mainstream.


© 2007 manga_kate

Honored by Second Place Finish in Two Tales Contest ~ see the little senryu foundation "Muse unleashed ~ a senryuOpen in new Window. also for the "Invalid ItemOpen in new Window.

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