Havok Publishing

Wizarding Woes

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Wizards Faster Than a Speeding Turtle

Bad enough that I’m standing on a turtle larger than Zofan’s five-acre property. Even worse that I’m here with hundreds of wizards and wizardesses for their yearly convention. Worse still that my mentor Zofan has partnered me with the arrogant apprentice Walfort. None of these, however, make my boots shake like dreading my yearly

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Wizards and the Wrath of Bessie

Lightning slashes the sky. “Walfort, take us back to land!” I yell into the storm. “We’ll look for Bessie another day.”
“Don’t be a wimp, Gwynfar. We told Zofan we would eliminate this sea serpent,” Walfort shouts. “I’m here because I’m a wand master and you’re a mediocre wizard. I’m not even sure you’re

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Wizards and Chickons

I run to the cabin, desperate to warn Zofan about our impending calamity. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen “wizard” as my occupation. I burst inside and nearly collide with my mentor. He stops me with a scowl and folded arms.
“Gwynfar, look outside. Tell me what you see.”
I peek out the window

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Wizards and Kings

I look like a peacock in a lion’s den. My gaudy green robes swish across the smooth marble as I eye the four armored guards escorting us. We enter the throne room. I step behind Zofan, my mentor and fellow wizard, and twiddle my fingers.
The guards clomp to either side of King Roganvel’s

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