The Wolf and His Circle of Sisters

When the sixth child was born, they were horrified to see that it was a boy. Others told them that they were foolish to fear the curse that they feared would fall upon their son. All did seem well for a while, and they hoped that they were indeed foolish. But in his thirteenth year of life, Adrian began to show signs of transformation.

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The Day That Words Transformed

Once, there was a man who woke one morning, and upon uttering his first word for the day, discovered that the word was stuck in his throat, for the word had turned to stone.

He tried to cough out the stone, but he had uttered the word upon an exhale. He had no breath left to cough. He clutched at this throat, his eyes growing wide when he felt the stone slide down his throat. By instinct, he swallowed, and he felt the heavy lump descend through his chest and drop down into his belly.

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Diamond Dreamt of Rose

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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Through a Sky Gray

“I want you to teach me how to paint,” Leodoras muttered, rehearsing the words as he strolled down the street that was assigned to his evening patrol.

He gazed up at the monochromatic gray veil of the sky, trying to imagine painting directly onto it, shaking his head at the thought. There were rumors that said it was possible. He’d never seen it nor known anyone who’d seen it. But their realm was vast. Who was to say there wasn’t a patch of gray that had been painted with swirls of indigo and black, and sprayed with blue-white stars, or brushed with a wide swathe of blue patched with soft diaphanous clouds?

Better to paint than to pierce, he thought. Better to live than to die.

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The Misfortune of Repetition

It was the turning into her fifth year, when Anushka would enter the next epoch of her childhood, the first learning years. Being a child whose family was of modest wealth, there were a few minor enchantments that were gifted to her. One was a book that could summon any one of a hundred different fairy tales within its pages with a simple chant. Another was a pair of boots that could lace themselves. And still another was a mysterious card placed within a vivid green envelope embossed with the golden letters of the giver’s initials.

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Auroramorphosis

I didn’t earn what happened to me.  The curse that fell on me was meant for another.  That’s what happens when petty warlocks are reckless with their magic.

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The Thorn Clock

When her auntie died, far sooner than she should have, Subira inherited three things from her.  One was a blessing.  One was a curse.  The third was a quest.  The curse is what killed her aunt.  And the curse would kill Subira too unless she completed the quest before the number on the clock that her aunt gave her reached one thousand and six.

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