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    Enchanted Revivals
    Enchanted Revivals
    Enchanted Revivals
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    Enchanted Revivals

    By CoffeeQuills, Phoenyx Lee and Tiana LeBeau

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Tales of Old Today Retold


    Embark on an adventure like no other!

     

    Explore the enigmatic world of The Painted Gate, where a mysterious portal holds the key to a life-alerting journey. Along the way, a mystery unravels, revealing answers decades in the making.

     

    Watch as the moment arrives for Lady Guinevere to meet Arthur. First, she must rescue her father. 
     

    Take a thrilling ride on the 415 Galactic Express, where the boundaries between reality and imagination blur. Discover the unexpected passenger's secrets. Recover memories, or perhaps reveal them? 

    Whether you're a fan of classic literature, a lover of modern retellings, or simply seeking an escape into the extraordinary, this collection captivates the imagination.

    Art by KittenSaphire

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherInExhaustible Media
    Release dateMay 4, 2024
    ISBN9781633100602
    Enchanted Revivals
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      Book preview

      Enchanted Revivals - CoffeeQuills

      Enchanted Revivals

      Stories Retold - An Anthology of Tales of Old, today Retold

      Tiana LeBeau, Phoenyx Lee, Coffee Quills

      InExhaustible Media

      Copyright 2024

      Phoenyx Lee, Tiana LeBeau, CoffeeQuills

      Cover by InExhaustible Media

      License

      This work of fiction can not be reproduced in part or whole through any means, digital or otherwise, without the expressed written consent of the copyright holder, or their representative. Any similarities contained within these pages to events, people, and situations that have occurred elsewhere are coincidences. Thank you for not engaging in the act of piracy, and respecting the rights, and hard work of the dedicated authors and their team.

      InExhaustible Media

      Thomasboro, Il

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      Contents

      Fullpage image

      1.The Painted Gate

      2.How Guinevere Met Arthur

      3.4:15 Galactic Standard Express

      4.Author Signatures

      image-placeholder

      The Painted Gate

      On the day Old Raving Rodrick finally died, his children wasted no time looking through their childhood home for the things they wanted, then sold the place as-is, including the remaining furniture and decor. I agreed to continue my housekeeping services for the new owners, Candice and Freddy Dumonte. We added cooking and making sure Candice, an artist, ate and slept whenever Freddy was out of town for weeks at a time, working for the government. It sounds like a demanding job, but they made it easy, and I really did it for the company rather than the money. My husband recently passed away, and my daughter lived across the country. Loneliness and I did not get along. 

      The only part about the job that I didn’t like was having to enter the art studio. Three of the four walls were a gorgeous yellow that looked like gold when the sunset hit them. Black paint, glittering with malice, marred the remaining wall, with bramble-like swirls covering it from floor to ceiling. Something about the design unnerved people. Not Candice. She said she liked it and refused to renovate or paint any part of the charming house in the country, far away from the busy city. My skin prickled every time I walked into that room, and I wasn’t the only one. On moving day, I watched the movers race to get out of that room, and, later, Freddy started avoiding it, too. He coaxed his wife out as often as he could. 

      Candice told us all that we couldn’t see the mystery behind the flawed wall, or feel its inspiration. I chalked it up to her artistic nature and left it be until things started getting weird about a year after they moved in. By then, they felt comfortable enough with me to talk about Candice’s mental health, her migraines, and the reason Freddy worried so much while he was away. I grew to love the time I spent in their home, enjoyed working with them, and found joy in my job, even after Candice started acting out. 

      One day, when I brought some soup and fresh bread to the dining table, I found her sitting there with dark circles under her glassy eyes and ashen skin. She looked drained, and I pursed my lips and narrowed my gaze at her. Are you alright? You look like you haven’t slept in a couple days. I set the food down. Freddy will give us both trouble if he thinks I’m not looking out for you.

      Yes, Delilah, she said with a smile. I’ve been sleeping fine, ate the breakfast you left out for me, and I even walked around the pond as the sun rose.

      I felt relieved. The breakfast container was in the dishwasher, and I wondered if she ate or flushed it. Knowing she took that walk in the place she found so beautiful, no matter what time of year, quieted my fears. I watched her fondly when she spent hours down there, studying the plants to get the details just right for her paintings after they first moved in. Now, those outings either broke her creative slump or signaled a migraine.

      A few weeks later, I overheard Candice repeat things Rodrick spewed while he was alive. His children often visited me before their father died, filling me in on his worsening mental state. They told me how he raved about Tilly being inside the house, and, when it became obvious he was a danger to himself and to others, Doctor Andrea Marlan hospitalized him, where he lived until he died, continuing to lament over his missing wife.

      Do you have another migraine coming on? I asked, taking a seat across from her for another lunch. After a few days of her odd behavior, I had to ask. 

      It’s possible since I am seeing things out of the corner of my eye while I’m painting.

      I wondered about that with how jumpy you’ve been lately. I gave her a small smile and picked up my cutlery. We lapsed into silence until we finished eating and I took her dishes, stacking them on mine. You’ve been more out of sorts this time.

      She frowned when I stood and turned toward the kitchen, giving her space to think. I wanted to get the dishes washed before the soup dried too much, anyway, and the two of us could talk for hours when she was like this. Candice didn’t let me get far, stopping me with a question before I could leave the room. 

      You knew the man who lived here. His wife, too?

      I looked over my shoulder and watched Candice focus on a scratch on the table, picking at it with her left thumbnail. My voice shook when I answered the question. I was her maid-of-honor, and she was mine. I paused and sighed. It might be called matron-of-honor when the lady is married now. Not that we bothered with such formalities.

      Candice looked up. What happened to her?

      My stomach dropped. I felt my lungs stop working. The answer sat on the tip of my tongue until I could take in a slight breath. Let me get these dishes going first.

      Candice followed me into the kitchen, watching me load our bowls and plates onto the lower shelf without making too much noise, then I dropped the cutlery into the tray. The two of us padded into the sitting room with two plush chairs, a couch, a side table with two lamps, and a wall-to-wall bookshelf. I sat on the couch across from her and took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow stream, steadying myself to tell a story. 

      Tilly was my best friend growing up. She married Rodrick Laramy—her highschool sweetheart—and the two of them lived a happy and active life with two boys. A third pregnancy surprised the couple when the boys were six and five, but a health complication ended up with Tilly in the hospital. She came home with a warning not to try for another baby. Despite being so long ago, the memory still brought up grief that stuck in my throat. I needed a drink, so I excused myself to grab my metal water bottle on the counter in the kitchen, and continued when I returned. That brush with death caused Rodrick to change. Tilly said he picked up a new hobby, but she never mentioned what it was beyond how weird she found it. Her whole body would shift with discomfort whenever I pressed for more information. Beyond that, though, she did not appear otherwise concerned. See, he would hyper-focus on his projects like you, always forgetting to eat or sleep. He loved her and their children much like your Freddy loves you, so I didn’t fret too much.

      My building emotions calmed a bit when Candice gave me a self-deprecating smile. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my handkerchief to fiddle with, my fingers tracing the stitched edging to settle me enough to continue. One day, when she was supposed to come over for our weekly tea, she never showed. I called and called with no answer. The next morning, a police officer knocked on my door, asking to speak to me about Tilly going missing. Roderick claimed he thought Tilly stayed at my place overnight, but when he heard my messages on the answering machine, he realized something was wrong.

      "Weird. Did they ever

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