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.
“Haddie Underwood, I always knew someday I’d have to post your bond.” My elder sister Zelda peered at me from the other side of the bars before her gaze slithered over to the man beside me. “But you. I can honestly say I never expected to bail my own father out of jail. What in all of Kingland happened?”
Read it now
Sketchbook in hand, I leaned over the watchtower’s edge. Dark shadows crept across the hills toward us.
Below me, a dozen farmers added sweeping strokes to the canvas in the center square. Hard to believe these men’s artistic experiences once extended only as far as the furrows their plows carved into the earth.
I was only seven when Aunt Toni tried to find her own fountain of youth, so some of the technical details are a little fuzzy. For instance, I can’t remember the name of the anti-aging cream Helena Rubenstein made, but I know that this once-great cosmetics company sold it for big bucks since it was reputed to restore your skin to that of a newborn babe.
Read it now
I’ve always hated rain.
As a dragon, it quenched my fire and made flight more difficult. Now as a human, it seeps through the hair and clothes, bringing with it a damp, miserable chill. To the reptilian part of me, the disappearance of the sun marks something even darker in my soul, a secret fear that my cold-blooded nature will betray me…
Let’s get one thing straight: I hate Pinocchio. It’s because of that dumb puppet we celebrate Pinocchio Day on April 1st, where everyone tries to see how many lies and pranks they can get away with. That’s fun—but then comes Honesty Day.
See, the Blue Fairy who brought Pinocchio to life felt slighted that he—and others—reveled in lying on April 1st.
Everyone knows you’re supposed to exchange sweets with loved ones on Valentine’s Day.
What no one had ever specified—probably for lack of a reason—was that those sweets probably shouldn’t be sentient.
My bad.
“Broomsticks and baubles!” I stood in the middle of the kitchen of my magical boarding school,
Let me preface by saying I didn’t mean to get cursed into a dragon.
It just sort of happened. When your father wages a surprise attack against a rival enchantress queen, curses are bound to occur.
All in all, I thought my father got off easily. Invade a neighboring country, get a cursed son.
Jadoni never smiled during the first half of the school year.
During the second half, she might consider it—if the students had earned it. But good student relationships begin with a healthy fear of their teacher.
Students don’t obey teachers who always smile at them.
And this particular group had a reputation.
It was the day before Elle’s ball, and I was desperate. So I traveled with all haste to my cousin’s shoppe, Fiona’s Fabulous Footwear.
I know, I know. I’m Elle’s fairy godmother. I should have known how to make some simple slippers. But while I can create the most ornate carriages
“My king, I will be the one to find the answer to Merlin’s riddle,” Sir Percival yelled back to Arthur. He galloped ahead of the other knights as they made their way through the dark forest.
Sage, the king’s squire, looked over to his lordship. “Sir Percival seems quite eager to gain
Lyric’s quill scratched across his parchment faster than the other mages-in-training, but he was still too slow to keep up with their bestiary professor.
The old man’s robes dragged through phoenix droppings inside the hatchery. He smiled as they reached the nesting trees in the heart of the habitat, where at least a hundred
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