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Wadesville (Weirdsville)

1/8/2018

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I’ve always known our town was weird. I just assumed that everyone else did too. Wolves howl on the outskirts but only on full moons. My history teacher refers to long dead figures as if he’d talked to them the night before. The woman who I always wave at on my way home has a giant red stain spread over the center of her nice white blouse. Every. Single. Day. So yes, this town isn’t exactly subtle about being strange. Is it wrong to assume that it was an open secret everyone is in on?
 


I pushed in the library doors displaying the hours (8 am to 4 am daily) and walked up to nice, old Ms. Bobbin, the night librarian. There was a photo on her desk of a New Years party from 1952, clearly showing Ms. Bobbin looking exactly the same, from her snowy white hair to her soft smile revealing sharp teeth.

“Hello Melody,” She patted her mouth daintily with a napkin and putting aside the thermos she’d been drinking from. “What can I do for you?” She smiled at me like a sweet, carnivorous grandmother with a smear of red that was either from her lipstick or her beverage marring the white of her teeth.

“I got an email that said my book on thermodynamics came in.” I loosened my scarf in the warmth of the library but did not take it off.

“Oh, let’s see.” She got up and walked over to the holds shelf behind the desk. “Here it is. Oh my, it looks awfully advanced.” She pulled out a thick book with lava flow on the cover.

“It’s extra credit for my AP Science class.” I explained. I accepted the book and handed her my library card for check out.

“That’s nice, dear.” She smiled, fumbling slightly with the computer.

A man burst through the doors behind me. “I need a copy of the Necronomicon!” He panted.

“Second aisle on your left, dearie.” Ms. Bobbin called, frowning over the screen. He tore off in that direction, his boots thudding on the rug.

“Hope he didn’t summon anything too bad.” I commented, only half joking, as I tucked the book into my backpack.

“Yes…” She agreed absently, staring after him in a way that made me think she hadn’t heard me. “Excuse me, dear. I have to make a call.” She handed me back my library card and picked up the phone on her desk.

“Alright, have a nice night, Ms. Bobbin.” I walked out the door with a single glance back at the aisle the man vanished down.


​ 
When my dad turned on the news the next morning I saw that, late last night, there had been a car fire with one fatality downtown. I glanced at the screen over my cereal. I can’t say I was entirely surprised that the photo they were showing was of the man who had run into the library. Poor guy, I thought as I finished my cereal. I grabbed my backpack and left for school. 


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The Gorgon's Girl

4/30/2016

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Gorgons only turn men to stone. That was Emily's first thought every time she passed through the stone arch. It was more of a reflex than anything else. Emily had visited the gorgon a dozen times now. She knew she had nothing to fear from the gorgon, not anymore.

Men would journey from distant lands to slay the gorgon. They never succeeded. It would be humorous if the brothers and sons of these "heroes" didn't keep arriving to "avenge" their deaths. They claimed it was for the sake of the village, but the gorgon was no threat to the village. The gorgon just wanted to be left alone. At least she did; until she met Emily. Now Emily had to visit her every week to keep her calm.

It wasn't difficult. At first it was just a few follow ups to make sure she was okay. When they first met, Emily had found the gorgon at the base of the cliff below her cavern entrance. She was bleeding from a lucky blow some adversary had landed. Emily patched her up and helped her to her cavern. It was the most terrifying moment of her life... Until her village elders insisted she returned to check on the gorgon. Now, Emily knew she had nothing to fear. The gorgon cared about her.

When Emily visited her, the gorgon was more of a presence. Though she insisted that Emily visit her every week, the gorgon rarely spoke. Emily talked about town gossip while she weaved on a small hand loom. The gorgon listened from the shadows and occasionally moved forward while Emily's back was turned to fuss with her hair.

That was what Emily was expecting when she walked down the echoing hall towards the largest chamber of the cavern. She never expected to be seized by rough hands. Her basket fell to the floor. Before Emily could scream a knife tip pricked her throat. A harsh voice hissed in her ear, it stank of meat, and ordered her to be silent. Emily could hear the gorgon moving swiftly towards them.

"She knows that you took me." She choked. The man laughed. This was planned. Emily was the gorgon's weakness. He would use Emily to kill the gorgon. But before he could do anything a hissing shadow surged from the darkness and wrenched him away from Emily. Emily fell to her knees. The man's muffled screaming grew quickly fainter. Once it was gone, Emily shakily collected her basket. She walked the rest of the way to the main chamber and took a seat on the stone bench she always used.

Eventually she heard the gorgon return. The gorgon slowly approached, hesitantly. When Emily felt a light, comforting hand brush her hair she turned and threw her arms around the gorgon. She sobbed into the surprised gorgon's chest and did not let go until the gorgon was gently hugging her back.


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Confronting an Ex...

10/10/2015

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“Is it ready yet?” Ronin demanded. He glanced nervously between the window and the witch.
 
“These things take time!” Kali snapped. She was striking the plants in the bowl repeatedly, trying to reduce it to a mash as quickly as she could.
 
“We might not have time.” Collins ran into the room. Spots on his clothing were still smoking. A few bruises were starting to form and there was a cut in his shoulder turning the fabric of his once white shirt red. “The outer barrier just came down. We need the banishing spell now!”
 
“Maybe you should have told me that before you summoned a demon!” Kali shouted. She through down the stone and coated her forearms and hands with the paste.
 
“You said he was your ex!” Ronin snapped, somewhat defensive but mainly fearful.
 
“We thought that mean he was safe!” Collins added frantically.
 
“I also said he was a monster! Remember that?!” Kali was writing runes on a mirror with the paste coating her hands as quickly and carefully as possible.
 
“We thought it was a metaphor!” Ronin stared anxiously out the window. The second ward fell with a flare of orange and a rumble of thunder.
 
“It wasn’t!” Kali reached for him and yanked out a tuft of hair.
 
“Hey!” Ronin yelped, grabbing the back of his head.
 
“I need it.” Kali set the changeling’s hair on fire and blew the ashes over the mirror. Ronin looked dejectedly over at Collins, his terror momentarily forgotten.
 
“Do I have a bald spot?” He asked moving his hand.
 
“Not the time for that.” Kali tried to throw her hair over her shoulders and out of the way without breaking pace or getting past on it.
 
“I don’t see one.” Collins assured Ronin before he grabbed a clip off the table and pulled Kali’s hair out of her face.
 
“Thanks.” Kali muttered distractedly. She worked on the spell another three minutes. Outside two more wards fell in a flash of purple, green, and blue.
 
“I’ll see if I can hold him off.” Collins said standing.

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Power Play

9/18/2015

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The fourth installment in the Princess' Path.

Note: This is a long one, so for the full story you really have to click read more.




Hans glared at the goblin. He did not enjoy dealing with these low caliber villains. They probably didn’t even have a plan, a motive, to abduct Caroline beyond the glamour of kidnapping a princess. The goblin cowered before Hans, his comrades lying at the prince’s feet.

“Where is she?” Hans asked coldly. The trembling goblin led Hans through a series of tunnels to the room where Caroline was being held. An hour and several unconscious goblins later, Hans was walking through the door of his house with Caroline hanging off his arm. Joan looked up from her work, which was spread out on the kitchen table.

“Back already?” Joan commented. “Guess it wasn’t Myriah then.”

“Just some smelly goblins, thank goodness.” Caroline declared dramatically. Her lip curled in disgust, either over the goblins or the thought of Myriah. Joan rolled her eyes.

Hans had tried to get his sister to be nicer to Caroline, but they just didn’t get along. Hans couldn’t really fault Caroline for it. She made a real effort with Joan. Once Caroline realized that Joan didn’t enjoy shopping or spas the way she did, Caroline had tried a dozen other activities with the younger girl, even skateboarding. Joan remained as dismissively irritated by Caroline as ever.

“Why would you even bring up Myriah?” Caroline asked Joan. The mere mention of the witch clearly distressed her more than being kidnapped by goblins. Joan shrugged.

“It’s been a while.” Joan looked back at her notes. “I just thought she was due.” Hans’ jaw tightened. Myriah was due to attack. She was far past due. They hadn’t heard from her since the incident at the party. Six months, by far the longest they’d gone without hearing from her since Myriah first began her vendetta.

“Well, maybe she’s dead.” Caroline suggested hopefully. Hans’ stomach twisted. The thought had occurred to him as well, while the weeks, then the months, wore on. Unlike Caroline, Hans was less than enthused. His fury at Myriah for her actions at the party had faded. Now he was desperate for her to return, with her broom, cauldron, and unconventional methods of… encouraging Caroline to use her gift.

Caroline sniffed and her nose crinkled. “Oh dear, Hans, do you mind if I borrow your shower? Goblins are not terribly hygienic, and what with them manhandling me…” Hans waved his hand.

“Help yourself.” Caroline smiled and kissed his cheek lightly before ascending the stairs.

“I see it doesn’t even occur to her that you won’t be able to shower until after she is done.” Joan scoffed once Caroline was out of sight.

Hans sighed. “Can’t you at least try to be civil, Joan?” Quiet resignation filled his voice. Joan snorted.

“Caroline hasn’t even tried to help anyone in weeks.” Joan was utterly scornful. “Whatever respect I might have had for her is fading fast.” Hans couldn’t exactly argue. He took a seat at the table and leaned back.

“She doesn’t do well without motivation.” He said, closing his eyes. There was a silence. Hans was starting to relax into it, barely.

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” Joan asked.

“I’m always worried about Caroline.” Hans replied without moving.

“Not her.” Joan shook her head. “Myriah.” That got Hans’ attention. He looked at his sister. Joan looked back at him with a piercing gaze that he rarely saw from her. It made Hans consider what he said next.

“Myriah makes Caroline… better.” Hans marshaled his thoughts. “She doesn’t just force Caroline to heal.” Hans recalled Myriah’s many monologues to Caroline. Monologues, disguised as villainous rambling, they were full of disparaging remarks about the princess. Things that Caroline wanted to prove wrong. “Myriah,” Hans struggled with his next words. “Makes Caroline want to heal.” Even after they left the hospital or warzone Myriah left Caroline in, Caroline carried Myriah’s cutting remarks with her. Things Hans was sure that Caroline remembered when people sought her help. Hans glanced at the door to the stairs Caroline had vanished through and inwardly sighed. “It’s something that only Myriah is capable of, and I don’t know what to do with out her.” Hans laughed hollowly. “It’s heard to believe, but Caroline’s worst enemy is also her greatest ally.”

Joan didn’t laugh. She just watched him. “Do you think Caroline is right? That Myriah is dead?” Hans’ insides twisted again, even more than before. Joan could not know how much Hans didn’t want that to be true.

“I hope not.” Hans’ desperation bled into his voice.

“Then what?” Joan demanded, tossing her notebook aside in frustration. “Where did she go? Why isn’t she here making Caroline a tolerable human being?!”

“I don’t know.” Hans put his head in his hands. “The only thing I can think of is that she realized that she went too far at the party and backed off because of it.” That or Caroline was right, but Hans didn’t even want to think about that.

“Does that mean we are hoping she goes bad again?” Joan asked. They both stopped and thought about that. Joan started to laugh. Hans slowly began to chuckle. They weren’t exactly sure why they were laughing. Maybe it was the ludicrousness of them hoping a bad guy turned good would go bad again. Or maybe it was the fact that they were talking about an enemy like a friend. Either way, it had become hilarious.

“What is wrong with us?” Joan gasped. Hans just shook his head and tried to stop laughing.

There was a knock at the door. Joan, her shoulders still shaking with laughter went to answer it. “What’s so funny?” The black haired beauty framed in the door way smiled at them quizzically.

“Oh, come in, Tiffany.” Joan waved her inside, still trying to get a handle on her laughter. Hans attempted to compose himself, but the occasional half laugh still found it’s way past his defenses every few seconds. Tiffany stepped inside with a gracious smile.

“Thank you.” She walked over to the table and rested her hands on the back of a chair. Tiffany had been Hans’ friend since elementary school. “I heard that Caroline was kidnapped again, so I thought I’d come over to see if I could help.” Tiffany smiled at Hans. “I take it from your demeanor she’s back home safe?”

“Safe and sound.” Hans nodded.

“Good.” Tiffany smiled. She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. “I’m glad.” There had been a time that Hans and Tiffany might have become something more. Then Hans discovered his destiny as a prince… A prince always fell in love with his princess. Always.

Joan suddenly cursed, breaking the moment Tiffany had tried to initiate. “Hey, language!” Hans frowned at his little sister.

“Sorry.” Joan said distractedly, gathering her notebooks and pens in her arms hurriedly. “I forgot, I’m meeting a partner for a project! I am so freaking late!” Joan dashed up the stairs. Hans heard her sprint down the hall and crash through the door to her room.

“Careful!” Hans shouted.

“Sorry!”

Hans shook his head. Within thirty seconds Joan was darting out of the door with barely a goodbye. The front door slammed behind her, leaving Tiffany and Hans in the kitchen.

Hans’ thoughts turned back to Myriah; where she was, what she was doing, when Tiffany spoke quietly. “I wanted to thank you again.” Tiffany looked embarrassed. “For convincing Caroline to save her. I wasn’t sure if Caroline would heal a dog.” Tiffany’s dog was a thirteen year old lab, incredibly old for a lab. “Midnight seems so much better. I think Caroline might have healed more than her kidneys.”

“She might have.” Hans nodded. “I saw you walking Midnight last week. Her arthritis seems better.”

“She walked for four miles!” Tiffany said proudly, sitting in the chair she’d been leaning on. “It’s like she’s five years younger.” Hans smiled. He had a lot of great memories of that dog. It was good to know that she was doing better. “Tell me, has Caroline’s healing gotten stronger?” Hans blinked.

“You noticed it too?” He started to smile slowly. “It was hard to tell, since she hasn’t been…” Hans trailed off.

“Been healing as much.” Tiffany finished. She bit her lip and looked away. “Yeah…” Hans’ smile slipped away completely. If even Tiffany was bringing up the lack of healing, the others must be talking about it constantly when he wasn’t around. They sat there in silence for a moment. Tiffany looked at Hans and then away. When she did speak it was hesitant. “I have a question.” Hans looked back at her. He knew that voice. Tiffany wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to say it or if she even should. He put his hand on her’s and squeezed. She looked down at his hand. It was an invitation to say anything she wanted. “Do you love Caroline?” Tiffany’s voice was low and tentative. Hans blinked, startled. Tiffany couldn’t look at him.

“I… I’m her prince.” He said through a dry mouth.

“That’s not what I asked.” Tiffany pulled her hand away. Her dark eyes fastened on his face. “Do you love her?” Hans swallowed with difficulty. How could he answer that question? Tiffany continued to stare at him, then she released her breath.

“I thought so.” Tiffany looked away. “Hans, you need a better reason that ‘because you’re her prince’. You deserve better than that.”

“I do love Caroline.” Hans protested. He felt like he needed to defend the relationship. Tiffany looked back at him and he faltered. Now he couldn’t even defend Caroline? “Or, at least, I did…” Hans rubbed his face. “I love her sometimes.” Those times had become fewer and farther between as the weeks without Myriah wore on. The rest of the time… When exactly had his feelings for Caroline gone from love to duty?

When he looked up Tiffany was still watching him. “It’s complicated.” Hans said, his voice muffled by the hand on his mouth.

“Then let me make it simple.” Tiffany said in an uncharacteristic moment of bluntness. “Would you love Caroline if she weren’t a princess?” Hans froze, not just his body, his mind too. They sat there.

Tiffany finally shook herself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…” She was much less sure of herself than she’d been a moment before. “I just…” Tiffany swallowed. “I just want you to be happy.” She looked away from him, biting her bottom lip. “And I don’t think you are right now.” She stood. “I’m sorry, I should go.” Hans stood up and hugged her.

“Thank you.” He said into her shoulder. Tiffany hugged him back. “Did Joan coach you?”

Tiffany half laughed into Hans’ chest. “Not exactly.” She was crying. Her voice was choked and Hans could feel a few tears through the cloth of his shirt. “We’ve talked about your relationship, but she didn’t know I was going to say anything.” Tiffany laughed again. “I didn’t even know I was going to say anything.”

Hans stepped back and smiled at her. “Well, thanks for not saying the really bad stuff Joan’s probably said about Caroline.”

“I do like Caroline. I wouldn’t repeat any of that.” Tiffany giggled through her tears. “I never knew Joan had such a dirty mouth.” Tiffany sniffed and wiped her eyes. When she returned her gaze to Hans it was uncertain. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything?”

“No. It’s alright. Thank you. It’s different coming from you.” Hans reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll think about what you said.” Tiffany still looked uncertain, but she smiled.

“That’s all I ask.” Tiffany glanced at her watch. “I’ve still got some time. Are you busy?” Hans’ eyes flicked to the stairs. Tiffany’s eyes followed his. “Oh, I see.” She smiled at him. “I really do like her.” Tiffany said again. “Sometimes she’s better than others.” Tiffany’s smile tightened almost indiscernibly. “If you can work it out. You should.” Tiffany picked up her bag. “I should go.” She walked to the door. “And Hans,” She looked back at him. “Whatever you decide,”

“You’ve got my back.” Hans nodded. Tiffany smiled one more time and walked out the door. Leaving Hans alone with his thoughts.



Caroline smiled at Hans as she walked down the stairs. Her hair was still wet and she was wearing some of the extra clothing that she kept at his house. “Feel better?” He asked.

“Much.” She answered. “But I am running late.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m going to go ahead. Will you text me later?”

“Sure.” Hans nodded. Caroline let her hand linger on his shoulder as she walked to the door. She began singing as soon as it closed behind her. Hans winced, but a fond smile unfurled on his lips just the same. Caroline couldn’t carry a tune to save her life. It was odd that that was one of the things he found endearing about her. Hans latched on to it. Tiffany’s question had left him somewhat muddled and it was good to be reminded that there were things that made Hans care besides being a prince.

He listened to Caroline’s off pitch singing as she walked down the driveway. Suddenly he was out of his chair and out the door. Caroline’s voice had been cut off by her scream. Hans raced to the street. He saw Myriah pulling an unconscious Caroline into a black car with dark windows. She looked up, and they made eye contact. She smiled. Then wrenched Caroline the rest of the way into the back seat and slammed the door. The car sped a way. Hans chased after it, but there was no way for him to catch up.

Hans slowed, breathing heavily. Myriah kidnapped Caroline… Hans smiled. He couldn’t help himself. Myriah was back.


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Danger of Drowning

8/21/2015

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Every land has its dangers. The mountain country of Farway had dragons. Briglan was home to ogres. EchoCave was overrun with goblins.

And Nearsea… Nearsea had mermaids.



Jennifer struggled with the mermaid, biting and clawing at her even as her lungs screamed for air. It helped that the mermaid didn’t want to hurt her. The trouble was Kevin. Jennifer kicked off against the mermaid, dragging the boy up to the surface. Jennifer gasped as she broke the surface into the air. She desperately pulled Kevin up by his collar until his head was over the water. Jennifer pulled him against her, so that the back of his head rested on her shoulder.

Jennifer choked on water as mermaid tried to drag Kevin to the depths once more. Jennifer hugged Kevin close to her while she kicked wildly at the hands clutching at Kevin’s legs. “No!” Jennifer spluttered as loudly as she could, spitting seawater. She thought that the hands faltered an instant and Jennifer was struck by inspiration. “Trade!” She shouted. The hands definitely hesitated that time. Jennifer took the opportunity to pull the ring off her finger. Her finger was swollen from the frigid water but Jennifer managed to tug the ring free. She dropped it. The mermaid’s hands left Kevin and Jennifer breathed heavily, though she did not release her hold on the boy. A moment later a head rose sinisterly out of the water. The face was shadowy in the moonlight. The mermaid was eerily beautiful. She held up the ring.

“It’s gold.” Jennifer said, treading water. “It won’t tarnish.” The mermaid turned the ring over in her hands, admiring the metal work. “Take it for his life.” Jennifer insisted. The mermaid looked from Jennifer to Kevin and back. Then she cocked her head.

“What’s your name?” The mermaid asked. Jennifer was suddenly wary. What was this about?

“It’s Jennifer.” She said. The mermaid smiled. Her teeth glinted in the moonlight. They were very sharp.

“Well, Jennifer. I’m Marisol.” She began swimming around Jennifer and Kevin. Jennifer struggled to turn with her, unwilling to let Marisol out of her sight. “I will accept your deal.” Marisol’s voice was suddenly right behind her head. “But only because I like you.” Jennifer whipped around as best she could. Marisol was already a few feet away, laughing. “Besides,” The mermaid held up the ring and looked at Jennifer through it. “The ring is almost as pretty as you are.” With that, Marisol dove below the water, leaving Jennifer to swim back to shore with the still unconscious Kevin.


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Princess' Path: Setting and Bonus Scene

7/9/2015

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Picture
When I first wrote Why a Witch? I did not expect it to be as popular as it was or to continue it. I was focused on keeping it short and sweet. But given that I have written three in the series (which I have rechristened the Princess' Path), I thought that I should expand on the settings that I neglected in the first story.

I'm pretty sure that most of you thought that this was a medieval fantasy world. Now take that, and fast forward several centuries to the modern day, with cars, movies, and scientists tearing their hair out because they still can't find a scientific explanation for how magic works. Add in the dragons, the griffins, the magic, and you have the setting to the story!

And don't forget to vote for your favorite Blog Story in the poll on the right!



Bonus Scene!



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A Witch's Ways

7/7/2015

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Picture
The third installment in The Princess' Path.

Myriah had hated princess Caroline for a long time. Ever since she refused to use the power to heal to save Myriah’s older brother. Since that dark day when the only person left that Myriah loved died in her arms, Myriah had only two goals in her life: force the arrogant, self-centered princess to actually use her ability and to make Caroline suffer. It was Myriah’s obsession.

Myriah grinned as she uncorked a bottle and gently blew the vapors that rose from it over the roiling surface of the cauldron’s contents. There was a faint high-pitched sound as it mingled with the steam. Myriah corked the bottle with a chuckle. Banshee’s Breath was hard to come by, but it would be worth it.

Myriah hummed with some delight as she twirled over to a notebook and picked up an old-fashioned pen.

It is ready. She wrote. Myriah put down the pen and checked on the potion. She glanced up when she heard the pen scratching on the notebook. That was fast. She returned to the pen, writing on it’s own.

So am I. The pen wrote. Just tell me what to do. Myriah smiled. That was what she liked to see.



Caroline was having a party. It made Myriah angry. She didn’t deserve to have anything to celebrate. A bitter smile curved Myriah’s lips. The party wouldn’t be so cheerful in a moment. Myriah watched the bright windows. There was Maisy, Caroline’s best friend and charm caster. Maisy’s knight of a boyfriend was talking to Avery, a normal college student. There were several people that Myriah didn’t know. They were probably Caroline’s ordinary friends who did not get involved in quests. She spotted prince Hans pass by the window. His little sister Joan followed him, looking vaguely bored. Myriah supposed that she should feel guilty for hurting these people, but if anything happened to them, it would be on Caroline’s head.

Myriah observed with grim satisfaction as Caroline’s friends began to gasp and clutch at their chests. Caroline began to panic. Myriah had selected a poison the princess’ healing ability protected her from. Myriah’s associate put the poison in the punch. Everyone in the room would be unconscious except the princess. It was time for Myriah to make her entrance.

The front doors slammed open in an unearthly wind, blowing Myriah’s cloak around her. Caroline jerked up and stared at her with a tear stained face. A face that hardened into hate when the eyes landed on Myriah.

“You.” She snarled. Myriah smiled.

“I’ve been good for you. A few years ago, you would have just cried.” Myriah stepped over the unconscious forms scattered about the room. Caroline was on her knees next to Hans. She was clutching his hand. “That won’t be enough.” Myriah said.  She knelt beside Joan and checked her vitals. Joan’s heart was fast and her breathing was shallow.

“Witch,” Caroline hissed at her. Myriah rolled her eyes.

“Obviously.” She said. Myriah brushed the hair out of Joan’s face and stood. “Now what are you going to do about it?” Caroline’s eyes flashed. She looked down at Hans and took his hands in her’s. Yes. Myriah thought. The atmosphere in the room changed. The chill Myriah’s wind had brought faded. Warmth spread through the room. The princess was glowing. A faint pink aura surrounded her and every one of her friends. Caroline’s eyes were closed. She focused solely on her power. Myriah uncorked an empty bottle. A charm around her wrist cooled as she circled the room. Wisps of the pink aura twined around her fingers and were redirected into the bottle. When the bottle was full of a shifting pink glow Myriah securely fastened a stopper on the top. Then she waited. Standing patiently behind the princess.

Finally, the glow faded. Caroline slumped forward. Myriah kept her from falling, holding her up by the hair. She took out a vial and yanked the cork out with her teeth. Myriah held the vial under Caroline’s nose. Once she was sure that Caroline had inhaled the vapor from the concoction Myriah dropped her unceremoniously. Myriah corked the vial again and pocketed it.

Myriah did another walk around the room. She checked everyone for their vitals. They were strong. Myriah scoffed in surprise. It seemed like she didn’t need that antidote after all. The princess had done good work. Still, maybe she should leave it.

Hans stirred under Caroline. “Myriah?” He mumbled groggily.

“Everyone seems alright.” Myriah assured him. She walked to the punch bowl and held out her hand. The poisoned punch boiled away. The steam was blown out the window. She set a bottle on the table.

“What’s that?” Hans asked struggling to sit up from under Caroline.

“Antidote.” Myriah answered. “In case the princess,” a snide note entered her voice, “missed someone.” She picked up the punch bowl. “Hans, please don’t take this personally.”

“Take what-? Myriah shattered the punch bowl on his head. Hans fell back. Myriah turned her attention back on Caroline. Her mouth twisted into a sneer.

“Sleep tight, princess.” She rolled Caroline off Hans, ignoring the broken glass. “You’ll need it. I’m not through with you yet.”

Myriah left. Her cloak billowing in the wind. She held out her hand and the broomstick flew to her side.

She was almost ready.


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The Temporary Truce

6/9/2015

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Picture
The sequel to Why a Witch? The second installment in the Princess' Path.

Caroline sighed as she let go of the old man's withered fingers. She smiled prettily at him while he fervently thanked her. She was utterly exhausted. Caroline raised her hand, and Hans helped her up. She thanked him as she leaned heavily into his strong shoulder. Hans supported her without comment or complaint and they left the building. He'd seemed distant of late. Caroline tried not to let it worry her. After all, he was entitled to his own life. Hans wasn't just her prince. He had talents, interests, and friends, just like she did, and Caroline respected that. Still... It concerned her sometimes. It was only natural for her to worry. He was her prince as much as she was his princess. His need to protect her when she was in danger was as powerful as her need to heal him when he was hurt.

Caroline worried that Myriah had done something to him, that dreadful witch. It frightened her to think about. Caroline knew that Myriah was up to something, something important. Myriah had collected Caroline's blood the last time they'd crossed paths, and her tears the time before that. It suggested powerful magic, the type of magic that could harm even a prince. Caroline had no idea why Myriah targeted her specifically when there were a dozen other princesses in the world, but she knew that the witch was dangerous. Caroline was so concerned about Myriah she was completely blindsided by the real threat.

Caroline could only scream as the vampiress Natalia spirited Hans away into the night. What was Caroline to do? She had to find away to reach Hans and heal him before he was turned, but how? She was a princess, not a knight. Caroline was about to call on several knights who owed her a favor, and the princess Gwendolyn to enlist the aid of her prince Cedric, when she blacked out and woke in one of Myriah's shadowy lairs. Caroline began to fight as soon as she came to. Myriah was surprised by Caroline's veracity. The princess was usually quite docile while she awaited rescue, other than the occasional tongue lashing.

Caroline foolishly revealed to Myriah her prince's fate. Myriah's interest was peaked, and she proposed a temporary alliance. She needed something from the vampiress Natalia, though she refused to divulge specifics. Myriah knew a way into the castle, but she needed Caroline's help to use it. There wasn't enough time for Caroline to find the knights who could help her thanks to the hateful witch. After Myriah revealed a few colorful details about Natalia's "collection" of princes, Caroline grudgingly consented. 


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Why a Witch?

6/3/2015

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Hans was supposed to fall in love with the princess. That was how it worked. He was the prince. There were indeed princes and princesses even today. They were roles that people were born to. A princess was any girl with the power to heal. Evil always sought this power. So princes were born as guardians, able to break any spell placed upon their princess with a kiss and the innate skills to protect them from their foes. Hans had no problem rescuing his princess Caroline from trolls, ogres, or, on one memorable occasion, a dragon. The problem was Myriah, the witch.

Hans didn't know what it was about Myriah. She targeted Caroline more than anyone else. It was as if she had a personal vendetta. Despite all Myriah had done to harm his princess, Hans saw good in her. He once witnessed Myriah risk capture to save a small child. After that Hans realized that Myriah's actions only harmed Caroline. In fact, the witch's plots often put Caroline into direct contact with those who needed her healing touch most. People Caroline never sought out on her own. His princess didn't like to use her power. It exhausted her. Caroline never used it more than she had to. She was forced to when Myriah locked her in the basement of a hospital or dragged her to the middle of a war zone for some evil scheme. Hans was supposed to fall in love with his princess... So why was he falling in love with her enemy? Why was he falling for a witch?

Hans finally realized he was asking himself the wrong question. He needed to ask Myriah something else. Fortunately, Hans didn't have to wait long to see her. Within the week, Myriah had kidnapped and poisoned Caroline. Myriah left her like a trophy, sleeping in a glass coffin in the center of a town ravaged by plague. Hans went after Myriah, leaving Caroline behind for a short time. When he caught up to Myriah, Hans could ask her why. Why did she torment Caroline? Why was someone with such an obviously good heart (though he didn't say that out loud) a witch?

That made Myriah pause. She considered him before she answered. "I once asked the princess for help. My brother was sick. She slammed the door in my face and my brother died the next day." Hans was stunned into silence. Myriah turned and walked away.

Hans slowly returned to the village. He leaned over Caroline and, for the first time, he hesitated before he kissed her. His princess woke. Hans helped her up. "Oh dear..." She murmured as she took note of her surroundings and realized how many people she would have to cure. Hans knew Myriah had spoken the truth. Caroline would never use her ability unless someone forced her to. Myriah was the only one who could make Caroline use her gift... And Hans loved her for that.

Continued in
The Temporary Truce, the second story of the Princess' Path.


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Prince Charming's Daughter

5/19/2015

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The King, who was once Prince Charming, never thought he would have a daughter. In fact, the possibility had never even occurred to him. Not once. But now it had happened and he was terrified. The realization that he had a daughter was more paralyzing than fighting a dragon or matching wits with a witch. It wasn't a safe world for a princess. He knew that better than anyone. How many royal maidens had he rescued from curses or dragons? Villains didn't seem to be worth their salt unless they had done something to a princess, and there just weren't that many princesses in the world!

But worse than that were the men. The King felt a hollow pit in his stomach as he considered the potential rescuers for his precious baby girl. The King knew better than anyone the type of person that might be attracted to a rescue attempt. He himself had been a lowly fifth son of a king who ruled a small and bankrupt nation before he began his crusade as 'Prince Charming' and rescued the wealthy, powerful princess who was now his Queen. The King knew of even worse options. A man who had nearly been his brother-in-law had stumbled into the title of prince by saving a princess. She died after marrying him, but the low bred brute had retained the title to impress the next princess he rescued.

No. The King decided. None of that. Not for his little girl. But how? The King couldn't always protect her from evil? Anything he tried, whether it be enlisting the aid of a good fairy or seeking to vanquish all evil from the land, would only draw farther attention to his little girl. What could he do?

As the King took his precious princess into his arms for the first time, and looked into her deep brown eyes, he realized there was only one way to ensure she was always safe. He had to train her to protect herself.


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    Lyndsey Werner

    An author who enjoys speculative fiction. 

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