Diamond Dreamt of Rose

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Digital drawing. A young woman facing and looking forward, from shoulders up. She wears a cloak that is fastened by a cloak pin attached to a brooch made of a gemstone shaped like a red rose with two leaves. Rose leaves extend down from the top of frame, and lie along the bottom of frame. At bottom of frame is the outline of a woman in right profile who is lying down with a hand lying on her stomach.

Clara felt the magic trickle up from the bare skin of her palm.  With a cold crackle, the almonds transformed.  Seven perfect diamonds.  Even in the dim light of fog and cloud, they glittered.  Clara sighed as her vigor was drained by the spell.

She looked ahead to the bridge.  She had not expected fog.  A shape emerged from it.

She held out the handful of diamonds.  Enough to pay the toll for the next thousand travelers. 

“It is not enough,” the bridge troll said.

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The Mirror of Displacement

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sf_w2Perhaps centuries from now, medicine will be able to restore what was lost from injuries such as his. But now, I must turn to practices arcane.

Clara sighed as she watched the ink dry. She sat in the dim basement of the home she shared with her husband, who was working in his office upstairs. It was a chilly autumn day. Yet the basement was temperate. She dipped her quill into the well and continued.

I have built it according to the instruction I found. I have built it with my own hands, against warnings, it is true. But I am a desperate woman. I am a desperate wife. Continue reading