Fantasy Story Commission

Commission Story for Emerswell:

Amelia Windsor found a quiet moment to rest in the afternoon. In her secret oasis, she sat on her swing, overlooking the crystal lake, dipping her toes in the mirror-surface as the scent of white roses filled her nose and the wind combed through her brown hair, stirring the long limbs of the weeping willow above. Amelia leaned her cheek on the rope of the swing. Her sister, Emerson, the Queen of Sandgate, had an important meeting today. Only last week, Amelia and dear Levi had managed to escape from Alexander J. Fox’s clutches. Amelia’s heart burned at the thought—part in anger, part sorrow—as the memories flashed behind her eyes. Emerson had to calm the council down about the risk of Alexander, they could only keep the depth of his trouble a secret for so long. They couldn’t worry everyone about him, right?  

Amelia’s ears twitched. Out of sight, something in the bushes near the lake’s edge trembled. A small envelope fell, fluttering to the ground.

What? Amelia thought. Getting off the swing, she walked over to pick up the envelope. Unfolding the paper, an all too familiar perfume—a stink—wafted from the paper. Star Violet. Amelia’s eyes scanned the paper, taking in the scribbled words: “Hero of Osiris—if you are such a hero—I would count our last encounter as a stroke of luck. I feel it is due time we met again, if not, your Queen and all you love will be at risk. Come prove what kind of hero you are.”

“What?” Amelia exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?” They think they can just threaten her? Amelia’s anger still burned for Alexander’s defeat. She turned over the letter to see one more line, “if you do not hurry, you will never see your friends again.”  

Amelia crumpled the letter. Her hands shook as her heart raced. Could it be real? Really? Of all the injustices the F.O.X. corporation has attempted towards her and her friends—this was the last time. Amelia tossed the letter and left her secret oasis. As she headed off to find Alexander Fox, a figure in black stepped out to follow her, mimicking her footsteps until it was too late—there was a thud and Amelia lost consciousness.



The Sandgate Castle was an impressive structure. Tan-brick walls rose to meet gold and silver turrets, towers and white lined parapets. Large blue and gold banners hung from the towers’ peaks, laying stiff on the windless day. White rose bushes clustered around the castle walls, perfuming the air.

Emerson Windsor, the Queen of Sandgate and her royal advisor, Hazel stood outside before the great entrance to the castle. Queen Emerson’s meeting with the royal council had ended a half an hour prior but the old advisees’ words still burned into her brain.
“It was quite an exhaustive meeting, my Queen,” Hazel said, tut-tutting as if she was an old woman and not nineteen, only a year younger than the Queen. Outside, not a wind stirred, piling on the abrasive summer heat. Hazel was lucky to be wearing a short pink skirt today—the best one to match her bow-tie but she could tell that the Queen was weighed down in her long, navy and white dress. Queen Emerson folder her hands inside her bell sleeves, looking around at the distant roads and hills.

“Hazel, no one is around, you may drop the pleasantries please,” Emerson said.
Hazel’s sky-blue eyes widened, looking around them. Her pink ears and flicking tail were ever vigilant, ever wary of any eavesdroppers. “Thank you, Que—Emerson, but the guards will be here any moment to let us back in. Do you think Amelia had returned to the castle early?”

“She said she would meet us here after the meeting was over,” Emerson said. Her brow crinkled with worry.

“Let’s go see if she is somewhere in the castle, I’m sure she is.” Hazel turned to the great wooden doors and as if on command, they swung open, two guards rushing out to hold open the doors as Queen Emmerson and Hazel entered gratefully into the shady entrance.

Inside, the castle was a bustling hive of activity. In the front hall, twin staircases stretch up to the ceiling, a living room can be seen on the left, a mud room full of neat and orderly boots and coats sat on the right. The stair’s rails, columns, runners and more were gilded in intricate patterns. Gold traced up on the corner of the rooms to splay across the ceiling, mimicking the tangle of a rose bush in detail. The open space allowed for a number of statues along the walls, great shadows cast upon their features from the hanging chandeliers above.

Heading up the stairs, the floor shook with the rush of butlers and maids around them. Every evening, the castle hosted lovely dinners with several courses, balls and more for the incoming waves of diplomats, ministers, governors and committee members. Tonight, Queen Emerson was expected at least three different events and she was sure her maids were beginning to comb the castle for her to begin changing and redoing her hair. But she must find Amelia first.

Cresting the top of the stairs, Emerson and Hazel split up, Hazel ducked into a servant entrance hidden in the wall and Emerson followed a navy-blue runner, leading her to another set of doors. This entrance was even bigger and more impressive than the last. The double doors were so intricately gilded, they may have been painted solid gold for the thickness of it. The doors opened and the carpet continued into a grand hall, flanked by two rows of columns. Emerson stopped before the steps leading up to her golden throne. She looked around the room.

Hazel ran back into the throne room. “It looks like Amelia isn’t here,” Hazel said. “No one has seen her all morning!”



Far away from Castle Sandgate, the F.O.X. company’s tower shined at night, reaching all the way up to the stars. In day, the building looks normal except for the evil that lurked beneath in the underground floors. Inside the weaving halls, black-suited agents and busy bodies rushed to and fro, accomplishing tasks for their malicious leader, Alexander J. Fox.

The stress of the agents was building like and angry hornet’s nest. Anticipation and growing nerves were building up to something big.  

High above, on the top floor, Alexander stood in his office. The well-furnished room was mostly black with giant bookshelves lining the walls. A large desk dominated the center of the room where a single folder rack, laptop and a pile of broken picture frames. One lay face down next to a pen holder. Alexander, a foppishly dressed man, he wore a top hat and matching black and red full-length jacket. His buttoned-up shirt peaked with a white bow tie that made his golden eyes pop among the electric-blue shock of his hair. The bright colors hid his age well. Alexander stood behind the desk, drumming his fingers while he thought of what to do next. He regarded a trapped figure in his room,

“Ah, Amelia. It is nice that you have come to visit me but I daresay you are quite a bore.” Alexander huffed a sigh of annoyance.

Before his desk, an unconscious Amelia—the great hero of Osiris—was sitting in a chair with her hands tied behind her back. Two of Alexander’s men, in black suits, stood behind Amelia whose head rested on her chest

“I said you’re boring,” Alexander repeated. He came out from behind his desk and kicked a leg of the chair. “You should be up by now!”

Amelia jerked and sat up awake. Her arms tugged against her restraints with no avail. Amelia snapped up to glare into the hateful eyes of Alexander J. Fox.  

“Well, well,” Fox says. “Did you sleep well?”

Amelia, without a thought, leapt up, headbutting one of the guards under the chin. He gasped and bit his tongue. As soon as her feet hit the floor, Amelia swung a kick at the other, but he wasn’t beside the chair where she had seen him a moment ago. Suddenly, he was behind her. His arms shot out to wrap around her and he kicked out her legs. Amelia struggled and kicked. The guard threw her to the floor. She curled up, protecting herself from a possible kick but instead, something banged on the office door.

“Really?” Fox muttered. No one was supposed to bother him at this time. He finally had Amelia right where he wanted her. He’d waited too long for this moment.

A scuffle erupted outside and the double doors to the office slammed open. Amelia’s friends, Anna, Hazel and Emerson rushed inside. Amelia sat up; a cry escaped her lips—what was the Queen doing here?!

“Amelia!” Anna, a spunky girl who Amelia grew up with ran in, leaping over her to push away and threaten the guards. Her fluffy brown hair was tied back in a thick ponytail, her tail brushed against Amelia’s bound hands. Hazel, Queen Emerson’s adviser dropped to her knees beside Amelia.
“What are you doing here?” Amelia asked. I’ve led them to danger, she thought, panicking. She looked at her sister in confusion.

“We found you were missing,” Queen Emerson said. She held her arms ready at her side and approached Alexander J. Fox. “You wicked man—who else could have taken our hero?”

“What a surprise!” Fox crooned. “The very Queen of Sandgate in my office. Incredible. Do you really stoop to save someone so much lower than yourself? My Queen?”

Amelia groaned.

Hazel tugged on Amelia’s shoulder, she held up a small crystal vial. “Here, Amelia, take this—shush—it’ll help with the pain.”

“But I’m not—”

Hazel made her take it. A sweet, honey-flavored liquid filled Amelia’s mouth. She swallowed. The room started to look a little fuzzy to Amelia.

Alexander looked between the Queen and the Hero of Osiris. “Oh, my,” he tssk-tssked. “This is interesting. I’m going to go out on a limb here and point out the obvious.”

“The similarities are uncanny—my Queen, are you here to save—are you royal sisters?”

The room grew still. Amelia groaned, a wave of despair and heaviness washed over her as she sank into Hazel’s arms, asleep.

“Well that just made things more interesting,” Fox said.

Hazel got up and joined Anna to Emerson in facing the guards and Alexander J. Fox.
“Oh,” he laughed. “Don’t think this is that easy.” He lifted his hand in a gesture. From the doorway, there was a cry and their other friend, Skylar fell in onto the floor. Her bow skittered across the floor. From behind her, figures dressed in black filed into the room: Star, Claire and Mark Chaser.

They were surrounded.

Star stepped forward, flipping her twin daggers, her light violet hair, tied up in a bun, gleamed in the dim lighting.

“This’ll be fun,” she said.

Fox spread his arms as if welcoming an audience, he was ready to draw the scene out long and painful.

Skylar, from behind Star shook her blue head and yelled, “Anna—now!”

From the stone floor, one of the tiles came loose at Anna’s command and knocked Skylar’s bow back to her. Snatching it up, she rolled over and instantly sent and arrow whistling towards Fox. The fletched aim hit its mark; the arrow slammed into Fox’s shoulder. Fox’s eyes widened into madness as his hands flew to his injury.

“Get them!” he yowled.

Everyone leapt into action. Star’s blades whirled towards Emerson, but she was pulled back and tripped by Anna. Hazel leapt over to grab Amelia, Emerson ducked and popped the guards, a thin blade appearing from her dark sleeves. Magic ripped through the air from Claire’s arched fingers but was ricocheted by the stone tiles Anna threw into the air to protect her friends. While the fight happened, Fox screamed for his two guards, pulling them back behind his desk as if he could use them as human shields against the Queen. Luckily for him, escape—not revenge—was on the friend’s minds.

“Do you have Amelia?” Emerson yelled, sending her blade into a whirl of a counterattack versus Mark. He dodged around the flashing steel but was unable to step inside her defense.

“Secure!” Hazel called back; she wrapped her arms around Amelia. Emerson lunged to slash Mark’s shoulder, his orange eyes crumpling in pain. Emerson and Anna dropped back, grabbing onto Amelia as the floor below them suddenly opened and they dropped through. In the grip of Anna’s controlled Earth magic, she opened and bent the floors and ceilings of the F.O.X. tower’s many floors to create their escape through the flights of stone and steel. Hitting the ground floor, the friends lifted Amelia and made their way outside and back to their own land.