The pen is mightier than the sword, they say. What they forgot to add is that the pen is often meaner, too.
“You wench! Do not put me beside that foul beast.” Pride and Prejudice squirmed in my hand, its pages fluttering as though it wanted to fly away. In honor of Canadian Library
“What time is it?” The question echoed through the chamber, more command than query.
A cacophony of voices answered, “It’s time for Wise Wizard Warry’s Show!”
Screeches rose from a group of witches in front while a trio of centaurs yelled in a husky baritone in the back. Between them a hundred other species…
The ringing of cold steel reached my ears as I ran through the torrents of people. This had to have been the stupidest thing I’d ever done. I mean, who charges wildly through sword-wielding maniacs just to take on the man who taught me everything I know?
“Asterin will do as she’s told.”
What was that? I lay shivering in bed as I peered into the deep darkness that invaded my room. I heard another rustle. Too panicked to scream, I reached for my light, and convinced my trembling fingers to turn it on.
The burst of light revealed a young girl standing at the edge of
September 3rd. The first day of school. A prime opportunity for battle.
I clutch Elsie’s right arm and glare at Insecurity, who holds her left arm.
It’s another one of those days I wish Elsie could see us and our battles. Knowing how much power she has over us would help her defeat those lingering self-worth issues, which would deal Insecurity a crippling blow.
Having sent her stepdaughter Jo Bright on a goodwill tour of the far realms, Queen Regality consulted her hand mirror again. “With Jo gone, I’m now the fairest in the land, right?” The mirror replied: “Not to embarrass you, but alas! Queen, those fairer would fill my glass.” After briefly considering tours for all those women too…
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My eyes burn, but I can’t look away, can’t let myself blink. What if I miss her? I block out as much of this world as I can, staring at the empty spot where the door always appears. Her door.
Three hundred and sixty-four days, twenty-three hours, and fourteen minutes since she’d said goodbye.
Back in my day, we didn’t have so many blasted cryptids running around in the woods. When I worked for Game and Fish, I took my job as cryptid hunter seriously, and I kept nasty beasts to a manageable level. But things changed after I retired, and hunters started using a “holistic cryptid management approach.”
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Heart pounding, I scanned the abandoned castle courtyard where ancient stones lay scattered like forgotten memories. The harvest tournament would begin any minute. Should my foster brother enter without a sword… I swallowed hard, reconsidering whether to bring Sir Kay something that might imperil my own neck. He’d likely have my head either way.
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Ambling through the orchard to the rear of my estate, I found an old friend. The worn handle of my cane firm in my grip, I whispered my questions. They floated away on the gentle breeze caressing me.
But the mighty maple did not answer. I shivered and tightened Mom’s favorite shawl around my shoulders.
“How old are you, boy?” the elderly gardener asked, leaning on his pitchfork. Heat rushed to my cheeks, making me feel redder than the orchard’s ripe apples surrounding us. “S-seven and ten.” He grunted, eyeing me up and down before extending the implement. “So, nobody else wanted you at the orphanage?” Pain jabbed my chest as I accepted the handle.
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Have I ever mentioned how much I hate goats? I mean, really hate goats?
No? Well, that’s not surprising. I don’t like to reflect on the day those little monsters almost ruined my future. First dates are bad enough without floating goats.
Floating goats? Yes, they float. Don’t ask me how.
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