In the heart of a wood which lost its name long ago, is a place where a seeker of stories
may go.
If you've arrived in a story's your desire, come, take a seat, for what you require is
a tale from the second storyteller.
Hello and welcome.
I am the second storyteller.
These libraries are really something else, aren't they?
That isn't bragging, because I didn't build these libraries.
Or this tower for that matter.
I am simply doing my best to preserve this amazing collection, and also share its wealth
with anyone who might benefit.
I am, in a way, more assured of these stories than a collector.
What's that?
Oh, oh, it was only a crow at the window.
I wonder what it was.
Ah, wonderful.
It's brought us a story and its beak, how thoughtful.
You know, the forests surrounding this tower hosts many interesting and varied species
of bird.
I sometimes try entertaining myself with a bit of bird watching.
The tower does have a few books on the subject.
No I am not a bird pervert.
You take that back.
No need for that sort of language now.
We have guests here.
Well I never.
My mother has nothing to do with this.
No, you're the one who's crazy for talking to birds.
Fuh, seriously.
The nerve.
Mm.
Regardless though, it did bring us a nice story, so why don't we just forget that whole
escapade and enjoy today's story, Blue.
Blue.
A small white duck lived quietly with a flock of other ducks.
This particular duck stood out from their flock because of a long blue feather on their
face.
One morning the other ducks approached, muttering awkwardly to each other.
Their leader explained, I know this might be difficult for you, my dear.
But the truth is that you are not a duck as we are.
You swim a bit differently from us.
You fly differently, and of course you have that blue feather.
We only wish for you to find happiness with your own kind.
The duck with the blue feather was stunned.
But I'm certain that I am a duck.
Isn't there some way that I can prove it?
The other ducks huddled together with rumbling quacks.
When they broke apart, their leader had an answer.
We have decided on a test.
Every duck can hold their breath underwater for at least one minute.
Prove to us that you can do this, and we will accept that you are a duck.
The duck with the blue feather flapped their wings excitedly, and then plunged under the
water.
They began counting the seconds.
They knew that if they really tried, they could hold their breath for two whole minutes.
The duck with the blue feather couldn't wait to see how amazed the other ducks would be.
The duck with the blue feather burst up from the water spluttering, just at the two minute
mark, and turned towards their flock to find that only their leader remained.
I—I think that was two minutes, the duck with the blue feather—announced.
The flock leader drifted in close, nodding her head politely.
Yes, very impressive.
I knew this test would be an excellent idea, because now I understand the problem perfectly.
Oh, said the duck with the blue feather.
Yes.
Of course you can stay underwater for so long.
That blue feather of yours—why, that is no feather at all.
That is obviously a scale.
No wonder we have all been confused.
You have been a fish this entire time.
I have, asked the fish with the blue scale.
Yes, and you are a very nice fish, but there is probably a school very close by missing
you dearly.
Go to them and be happy, the leader quacked, and flew off to reunite with the rest of her
flock.
The fish with the blue scale was totally bewildered.
Unsure of what else to do, they began diving under the water, searching for fish with blue
scales.
Eventually, the fish with the blue scale discovered a school of tiny blue fish, drifting together
in beautiful harmony.
Hello, said the fish with the blue scale.
I think I am supposed to be in this school.
I thought I was a duck, but actually I am a fish.
Is it okay if I rejoin you?
You are clearly not a fish, said one tiny fish from the school.
And you are not from this school at all, declared another.
Can I prove that I am a fish?
Yes, the fish with the blue scale.
Certainly exclaimed a fish from the school.
One blue fish separated from the group.
Fish are expert swimmers.
If you can beat me to that snail shell right there, it will prove that you are a fish and
we will accept you into the school.
The fish with the blue scale readied themselves.
When the school of fish shouted, go, in unison, the race was on.
Their speeds weren't evenly matched, and the fish with the blue scale nearly fell behind,
but at the last moment they reached out their one long blue scale and managed to touch the
shell just before the other fish raced past.
The tiny fish returned to their school, and the fish with the blue scale approached.
Did you see?
I touched the snail shell with my scale.
That proves I am a fish from your school.
Cheater!
The school of fish scolded together.
How did I cheat?
Asked the fish with the blue scale.
That is no scale.
That is a whisker because you are a sea lion, the school declared.
I am?
Gasped the sea lion with the blue whisker.
Yes, and we're leaving now before you eat us.
The school darted away at full speed.
The sea lion with the blue whisker shook their head.
They felt foolish for scaring the fish, and popped up above the water to search for other
sea lions.
It took the better part of the afternoon, but the sea lion with the blue whisker eventually
found a colony of sea lions lazily enjoying life on a beach.
Fellow sea lions, I've been away from you for so long, but I have finally returned,
said the sea lion with the blue whisker.
One of the sea lions gave a great sleepy yawn and replied, Oh, I don't recognize you, kiddo.
But if you say so, welcome back.
Come have lunch with us.
The sea lion with the blue whisker was delighted and joined the sea lions as they enjoyed their
meal of sun-baked squid.
The sea lions were fun and friendly.
They told outlandish stories and jokes and barked when they laughed.
The sea lion with the blue whisker was happy in their company.
After lunch, one of the sea lions flopped its way over to the sea lion with the blue
whisker, his face scrunched in contemplation.
You know, I've been thinking, said the scrunched face sea lion.
Something about you is just off.
It is, asked the sea lion with the blue whisker.
Yeah, I mean, you're fun, kiddo.
You're welcome to lunch whenever you like.
I don't know how to tell you this, but you're a cat.
I am?
Yeah, said the sea lion.
You don't really bark, but you got that whisker and all.
I'm sorry, said the cat with the blue whisker, although they weren't altogether sure why
they were apologizing.
Oh, not at all, friend.
Cats are terrific.
Bet there's lots of cats in town for you to buddy up with.
Or find yourself a human.
They love cats, the sea lion offered.
Thank you.
I'll go look, said the cat with the blue whisker.
The sun began to set as the cat with the blue whisker wandered through a small seaside
town.
They stopped by a fence to think.
Of course I am a cat.
How could I not see that?
Those sea lions were so kind, and I stupidly told them that I was one of them.
Well, I'm going to be the best cat.
The cat with the blue whisker heard a soft chuckle and looked up to see a black cat leering
down with bright green eyes.
The black cat licked her paw.
The best cat, you say.
What exactly does that mean, challenged the black cat?
Well, I won't ever bark, just like the sea lion said.
And I have this wonderful blue whisker, the cat with the blue whisker, explained.
True, true, the black cat granted as she leapt from the fence and landed in front of the
cat with the blue whisker.
The black cat curled her tail around the face of the cat with the blue whisker.
But even I can see that blue thing is no whisker at all.
It isn't.
The cat with the blue whisker couldn't believe their ears.
Well, clearly it is a tail.
A very silly blue tail, because you are a very silly fox.
I mean, I personally have no problem with foxes, you understand.
But living in the woods and being a dirty little dog rat isn't my lifestyle.
The sun is going down, and I have a lovely house waiting for me, but you'd better start
digging a den for yourself quickly.
The large predators will be waking up soon.
And the black cat vanished through slats in the fence with a laugh.
The fox with the blue tail raced towards the woods in a panic.
As night fell and a bright moon illuminated the forest, the sounds of nocturnal life became
a thunderous fog.
The fox with the blue tail could not be sure which sounds were hunting them, which sounds
were mocking them, or which sounds might be searching desperately for them.
Suddenly, the fox with the blue tail crashed into something and stopped.
I'm sorry, they spluttered.
I don't know how to be a fox.
I don't know how to dig a den.
I don't want to be eaten, and I'm sorry I crashed into you.
The fox with the blue tail backed off to survey who they had crashed into.
The fox with the blue tail found themselves looking at a small white feathery creature
with a long blue feather on their face.
The creature shook as they recovered, then turned to the fox with the blue tail and said,
I'm a duck.
What are you?
The fox with the blue tail closed their eyes.
They ignored the storm of unfamiliar forest noise and thought for a very long time.
They drew in a long, slow breath before replying, I am.
Two friends flew away into the night.
I hope you enjoyed today's story, and I apologize for that very rude bird earlier.
I hope it didn't alarm you at all.
Ah, you're still here?
Shoot.
I really wish I had a better mail system.
Undo.
Break.
Oh, uh, hmm, must be that darn crow again, or maybe the plants.
They want me to feed them again.
You know how it is.
Escape.
Well, I should be going, but as always, be well and escape.
And carry today's story in your heart.
Today's tale has ended, but return once again to this place where you are considered a friend.
Return to this tower in its mysterious dweller for more from the library of The Second Storyteller.
Thank you for listening to The Second Storyteller.
If you have a prompt for a story, please send it to thesecondstoryteller at gmail.com.
If your prompt is selected, your name will be credited at the end of the episode.
Today's prompt was an identity story from Kay.
If you would like to help support the future of this podcast, please consider becoming
a patron by going to patreon.com slash the second storyteller.
A donation as small as a dollar is greatly appreciated and helps keep us going.
A donation of just $10 a month puts you on the list of current library card holders,
and your name will be read at the end of the episode.
The Second Storyteller podcast and the featured stories were written and created by Katie
Chacon.
The role of the second storyteller is played by Charles Scott.
Today's voice of the story was provided by Katie Chacon.
The voice of the intro and outro is Chris Camp, and you can find the fantastic games
he's worked on at rix.itch.io.
That's riks.itch.io.
The music was written by Fintan, who can be found at garbagebag, all one word,.itch.io.
The Second Storyteller will return next month with more magic, fun, and of course, a story
to tell.