A Tale of Two Porings

In the land of Midgard there is a hidden island, those fortuned  to chance upon it find a magical place of pristine sand, lush trees, and crystal waters. The weather is always warm, but not too hot. The leaves never fall from the forest, and the grass grows wild covering the island with a carpet thick and soft as any Persian rug. The Poring God inherited this island from Odin and gathered many of his kin to live on its secluded shores.

On this island lived a special Marin, a small ocean sprite poring who loved to splash in the warm waters off the bay. He often would spend his mornings and late into the afternoon playing on the beach, hopping over waves and surfing them to shore. When he was too tired to swim he would work on elaborate sand creations, building castles three porings tall. His carefree and creative spirit pleased the Poring-God, and he fast became one of his favorites to watch over.

One evening after a long morning full of splashing he was finishing the final touches on a new type of castle. He knew it was going to be a special day as he had dreamt the night before a way to build intricate twisting towers using wet sand. All his creation needed now was something unique from the ocean to use as a flag. He was searching along the shoreline looking for a special shell when he sprung head first into a girl poring.

She squeeked, his bounce causing her to roll wildly over the sand. He froze, completely caught off guard. It had been days since he'd spoken to another poring and his tongue felt heavy and out of practice. The Marin at the best of times fumbled in social situations and he avoided them whenever possible. It didn't help that he found her pretty, he flushed as pink as her with embarrassment.

Her laughter split the silence. She shook the dizziness off and hopped close to him. “S—sorry,” he stammered. “I didn't see..” Gimlet eyes peered at him, stilling his tongue once more. He cringed waiting for her to lash out at him with derision. She smiled widely instead, disarming him completely. He noticed she smelled like fresh strawberries. The cadence of her voice was lilted, reminding him of a bell or a softly hummed song. “Hello, can you help me?”

That chance encounter was the beginning of the happiest months in the Marin's life. The pink Poring and he became fast friends, spending the evenings combing the beach together until the sun dipped low and the stars winked on. They would then sit against his castle and speak long into the night. He confided in her his dream to become a great architect and build beautiful buildings that wouldn't be washed away each night with the tide. She spoke to him of her mother, and how a hunter had found his way into their forest and ended her with an arrow. He consoled her the best he could, he didn't have words to fix what was broken in her and that made him very sad. She filled a loneliness in him that he had not known existed until their friendship sparked and he wanted to do the same for her.

One evening he asked her what she was hunting as she searched along the beach. Although they found many beautiful shells that he used on his castles, she never took anything for herself. That night when they sat up watching the stars she spoke somberly in a dead tone he'd never heard her use. She told him of the last gift her mother had given her, a pearly unicorn horn worn smooth by the tide. “Mother said it was a gift from a great fish she'd once freed from a net and that it was magic. ..She loved magic and told me the world would never be a dull place with magic alive.” She sighed and continued, “ I threw that horn back into the sea the day she died, I don't know why.. I was just so..angry with her for leaving me.” She stood up and hopped to the edge of the water. “I don't believe in magic.”

The Marin vowed silently to find the keepsake for her if it took his whole life. He had tried several times to form the feelings for his friend into words, but they always twisted and fell short, so he remained silent. This he felt was a way he could show her his heart, and how full it was of her. He began to spend his mornings diving under the waves and hunting for the horn, stopping only when he was too tired to hold his breath any longer. It took nearly a year, but on the day before her birthday he finally found it. He carried it carefully to his home and wrapped it.

The Marin was unaware that he was being watched on the beach that day. In the forest there was a green Poporing who had long harbored desire for the girl Poring. The Poporing had grown up with her and decided long ago that she belonged with him. Her friendship with the Marin was a source of constant irritation for the Poporing, and he often found excuses to keep her from the beach. He was watching from the edge of the tree line that morning and when he spied the horn he knew his time had finally arrived.

Excited to see his friend and finally share his feelings for her, the Marin awoke with the sun. He took special care with his appearance, washing himself until he gleamed a clear turquoise. Grabbing the wrapped gift, he nervously hopped toward her house. She was standing outside with the Poporing when he arrived. He heard her squeal with excitement and watched as she kissed the Poporing's cheek ecstatically. “I can't believe you found it!!” The Poporing smiled smugly, catching the Marin's eye. “I would do anything for you,” he said blithely.

Suddenly the Marin understood what was happening, and he froze, caught in a nightmare. The moment stretched on for an eternity. The Poporing kissed the Poring and told her that he had been hunting for the horn to show his love for her, and that they belonged together. The Marin dumped open his package and saw the horn had been replaced with a stone. The curdled scream inside him must have squeeked out a sound for she turned, face beaming. “Look! Look! He found it!” She bounced a circle around the Marin holding the horn. She noticed his twisted expression and stopped. “What's wrong?..I thought you'd be happy for me..”

The Marin, used to years of holding feelings inside found that his words failed him again. Angry and panicked he felt tears welling behind his eyes. He didn't want her to see him cry, so he ran. He crashed through brambles and thickets, branches whipping wildly past. He didn't stop until he reached the beach. He screamed at the ocean, it didn't make him feel better. He smashed his last castle, her face dancing before his mind's eye. It didn't make him feel better. When his fury was spent and tears finally spilled over his cheeks, it didn't make him feel better. He felt alone.

The Poporing and Poring started dating. His friend moved with a new light as if a great darkness had been lifted from her. He wanted to share her happiness, and more than anything he wanted to tell her the truth. She was never without the Poporing though, and their joy seemed very great indeed. The Marin couldn't stand to see them together, but neither could he break her heart. He started avoiding the places they would be, and started to once again seek solitude.

The beach no longer held any peace for him, all he could see were memories of her everywhere. So he turned and left the ocean for good, striking out for the darkest parts of the forest. He hopped until the canopy grew thick overhead, blocking out the sun. Still he did not stop, he kept moving until the sound of birds was replaced with a heavy silence. Still he did not stop. Finally he stumbled into a cave in the heart of the dark trees, and deep within he rested. The darkness soothed his broken heart and he felt a kinship with it.

“You seem troubled my friend.” A dry small voice rustled beside his ear, hissing in the tone of ancient dried bones and secrets best forgotten. The Marin, his heart heavy couldn't bring himself to care. “Kill me or leave me be,” he huffed at the voice in the darkness. Delighted cackling filled the cave as the voice lit a small blue flame and the smell of brimstone pricked the Marin's nose. Before him stood a Deviruchi, the small demon smirked at him and waved his pitchfork through the air elaborately and rasped out his oiled salesman pitch. “I can fix your pain, and give you the power to crush your enemies! You can seize anything you want; fame, jellopies, women. Anything you desire, the world is yours!”

Every poring knows that the Deviruchi, favored of Loki, is often up to no-good. Still the Marin was beyond caring and for once spoke his mind. “I want to forget, I want to feel nothing.” He felt a fiery pain as leathery wings erupted from his back. His last conscious memory was of gleaming teeth above him. “Done.”

They called him the Deviling in frightened whispers across Midgard. The once-Marin roamed the wilds with the Deviruchi and wrecked havoc together. The dream of becoming a great builder was replaced with a desire for chaos. He no longer wanted to create, he wanted to destroy. His heart lay heavy and silent, still as a stone. The Marin he had once been was a distant dream.

Occasionally their antics took them back near the island the Marin once called home. The cave was a thin veil between Midgard and the underworld. It sat like a festering tooth in the center of the peaceful island, its darkness digging deep into the earth and spreading slowly. Nearby the mouth of the cave was where the Poring had once lost her mother to the hunter, its dark influence drawing adventurers with dark intent. The Deviruchi's powers were the strongest at the cave and he planned to use them to open the island to evil doers for good.

Bored with lingering in one place for so long the Deviling yawned with toothy annoyance. “Exactly how long is this going to take?,” he spat at his partner. The Deviruchi ignored him, dancing spritely around an intricate carving in the clearing, scratching on a detail with his pitchfork occasionally. Although he had no memories of it, being in his old home caused the Deviling's skin to itch. He leapt in front of the dancing Deviruchi, purposefully smudging the ground. The Deviruchi hissed and swiped the pitchfork, narrowly missing the Deviling's face. “Patiensssssce,” he hissed. “We are waiting for the sacrifice.” The Deviruchi turned his back and continued to scratch at the ground. Resigned, the Deviling leaned against the cave's opening and napped.

The scent of fresh strawberries tickled the Deviling's nose, he sneezed awake to find frightened eyes peering from the bushes. A Poporing was hidden there quivering, staring with horror at the clearing. The sight of the frightened Poporing filled the Deviling with disgust. He turned his gaze to see his partner prodding a girl Poring into the center of the design. She seemed familiar and her small whimpers made him uneasy. The Deviruchi spelled her frozen to the center of his carving, chanting softly. The wind whipped around the group, stripping the leaves from the brush and causing the Poporing to flee. The chanting Deviruchi raised his arms and lightning crashed around the two arching in a deadly circle. The pitchfork gleamed wickedly in the etherwordly light as it swung down toward the Poring's heart.

Moving on instinct the Deviling flung himself in front of the girl, knocking her to the ground. Fiery pain lanced through him as his life-blood splashed onto the ground, causing the runes to glow
brightly. The storm stilled and two brilliant lights beamed through the dark clouds and dimmed into portals, opening the protected island to the outside world forever. The Deviruchi shreaked with glee at his success.

The Deviling peered at the girl through dim eyes, his heart cracking as it spilled his last moments on the dirt. She pressed against him, trying to stem the flow. As his life ebbed the enchantment on him began to flicker, she recognized her old friend and began to sob. She whispered to him around her tears and told him of the past months while he was gone and how she had never forgotten him. She had been searching for the Marin when the Deviruchi captured her. She had missed her friend greatly and the thought of losing him forever made her frantic. He smiled softly up at her. “I'm glad you found me.”

The Poring didn't believe in magic, but she prayed anyways, desperate for a way to save her friend. The Poring-God had been watching and her earnest pleas softened his heart to intervene. The dark clouds parted once more and he descended down to the clearing on his throne of sky. He glanced away and pulled the Deviruchi and the Poporing to the side with his will and froze them there. He turned his attention to the crying Poring.

“I cannot unmake what has been done, but you can change to help your friend.” She scrambled toward him quickly. “Please, anything!” The Poring-God rose above her, his light shining through her hotly. Silky wings unfurled from her back and she used them to glide back to the Deviling's side. She leaned down and tenderly kissed against his last breath, her new light flooding around them in a warm glow. He lay still for several moments before taking a shaky breath. She squeeled with delight and covered his face with light kisses. “My Angel,” he said, noticing her new wings, a bright reflection of his own.

The Poring-God smiled down on them, pleased. “Can you close the portals?,” the Deviling asked with concern. He knew first hand what darkness lurked outside their sheltered island. The Poring-God shook his head somberly. “But I will leave the two of you as guardians to our kind.” He turned his gaze back to the frozen pair, eyes narrowing. “As for the two of you. For your meddling Deviruchi, I bind you forever to the Deviling to help protect those you once harmed.” The Deviruchi thrashed against the holding howling his wrath. The Poring-God ignored him and focused on the Poporing. “For your cowardice I bind you to wander this island alone, banished forever from our kind to the plane of the dead.” The Poporing blanched blue as the warmth fled from his skin, he rushed toward the Deviling and Angeling but they did not react. He realized they could not see him and faded away from the clearing.

On a clear night, if you follow the sound of crying on the wind you might spy the ghost of the Poporing, if he sees you he will quickly hide, forever ashamed. To this day the Angeling and Deviling roam the island protecting it from would-be invaders. Their love for one another grows and has become legend. It is considered great fortune to spy the two together, portending a great love for the watcher's life. If you have a pure heart you can sometimes spy them frolicking together by the sea.