Phezz patrolled the forest’s edge, searching for ingredients. Er… trespassers. A welcome respite from the training grounds, where he spent endless hours instructing kits and running melee drills. After Acon—the runt of the litter—had nearly skewered him today, he decided to end the session early.
Phezz crouched low against the forest floor
Zaivar Witz studied the mist dealer behind the counter, wondering if the wizened man could actually help him find a new disguise. Harvesting and selling mist from the kingdom’s shrouded mountains required an unmatched madness. But Zai never cared for convention—if it helped him track down his warrants, why question it?
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My stomach lurched as I peered farther into the yawning mouth of the volcano. One wrong move and I’d fall to my death. Fortunately, this mountain had been dormant for years. I wouldn’t die from magma—but if the jagged rocks didn’t finish me off, the dragon probably would.
Come on, Kytt. Focus!
It’s too quiet without Henry.
Belinda blinks back tears as her nimble fingers work in steady circles, her pestle grinding brittle leaves into fine dust. They were supposed to have a lifetime together—not three short years. Not before she had the chance to find her first grey hair.
But some illnesses, it turns
Chasing Joe Enza was like trying to catch smoke. Just when I thought I had him, he’d slip through my fingers, leaping into another timeline—another reality. It was maddening.
But this time, he was still in sight—at least for now.
I tucked a long strand of my auburn hair behind my ear
“Five minutes to midnight, folks!” I called out, my voice echoing in the grand workshop. “Get your lists ready and stretch those fingers. It’s going to be a wild ride!”
Black Friday was nearly the busiest day of the year, second only to Christmas. As Head Elf of the Technology Department, I had transformed
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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“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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Alaric and I had fled west, narrowly escaping the assassins from our world. After a month with no further attempts on our lives, I began to breathe easier and embraced Earth’s comforts—even settling into a routine. My brother, on the other hand, stayed vigilant. He didn’t believe that the assassins had given up.
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I flipped another page and blew out a surprised breath. Wow, that chapter had gone fast. Action-packed and a main character with depth. This book was most definitely a page-turner—the perfect summer read.
Discovered in the beach’s Grab-N’-Read Library—a wooden box on a pole buried in the sand—it surpassed the usual finds that beachgoers left behind.
Esteemed Master Librarian,
In case you are unaware, I have retired from my scholarly pursuits. However, something unexpected has occurred. Please accept this first-hand account as proof that Weather Wielders exist, and I have the key to unlocking their potential.
It began last summer, when an elf knocked on my door, disturbing my mid-day tea.
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