Tremen shook his head as if jarring his thoughts back into order. An order which Kernel’s simple demand had dashed. Tremen had never retreated but did before this onslaught.
Hunting Magic
Tremen tromped his way out of the sorceress’s tower. The green fields looked the same as when he had pushed his way into the tower, oblivious to the spells his presence had triggered. Or the plants where. The animals had fled.
Chasing Magic
Tremen followed the sorceress as she fled up the stairs. “Help me, please?” he cried. His voice echoed off stone.
She paused at a turning and scowled at him. “No.”
Stories Untold
“Once there was a story,” the voice rumbled against her ear and deepest blank hair trailed over her pillow.
Fame’s Master
The wavering light of the candles covered the stage as Alathic strode out from behind the curtain. The crowd erupted into applause before he said his first word. He took long languid strides to the center of the stage.
Bonus Story: Fanged Griffin
Demane rode Before the fall if the Traviane Empire. He knew he should stop. He knew he should rest his horse. Allow his men reprieve. They had travelled hard through the night fleeing from the city toward the King’s Sepulcher. He knew he should offer them a reprieve, but he knew he could not either. For the fall of the Traviane Empire was manifest within the armies of Kaleen hard on his heels. Glancing back, he could see the roiling line of once men close behind.
Strange Times
Jazmine had always listened to the townspeople complaining, saying they live in such a strange time when catastrophes struck. For then the heroes and the betrayers worked together.
Day 31: Precognizant Cats
The cards snapped loudly against each other in Dan’s hands as he shuffled them while examining the three others seated about the table: Ren, Terry and Narfell. They held a sense of ease often absent in the last weeks. The Kuraffalin War was volatile in the sector of late. In fact, they hadn’t managed to steal an evening to relax in three shift cycles. Barely even sleep. Dan found the scene both familiar and strange with nerves that refused to completely relax. He doubted the others were different.
Day 30: The Witches’ Laws
“I called to order the nine thousandth, fifty-fourth meeting of the Magical Collegium.” The gavel wrapped against the table emphasizing the High Seat’s ringing in meeting. Esmeraldan winced as the gravel struck, though. She much preferred it when a warlock did not fill the high seat. They never understood the intricacies of the gavel, or how left unshielded the surge its enchantments could affect those in the room. Enchantments which were meant to keep malicious users out of the collegium. Nobody wanted a repeat of the lich incident of eight hundred and nine, but they also didn’t need to start meetings with headaches from the gavel being used incorrectly.
Day 29: Disguised Terraforming
Albin ran chased by the clatter of hooves and the baying of far hounds. They were too close now. He thought he would have lost the chasers a week ago. He thought they would have given up on hunting him. He was no one. Nothing. Certainly, the moldy loaf of bread shouldn’t have brought this attention to him. Glancing back. He looked over the dry sands hardened into a crust, cut through with ravines, and saw them on the rise behind. Too close indeed.
