King Midian and His Glove of Gold

A baby girl was born to the king and queen. Their first child. Many visitors came to the castle to see the newborn heir. Among them was an elven traveler who went by the name of Fall. All the visitors brought gifts, most for the baby, but some for the king or queen. Some gifts were humble. Some were precious. The elven traveler brought a gift so precious that he asked to see the king in private so that he may deliver the gift.

The king, whose named was Midian, granted this audience, for the best gifts that had so far been received were from the faery folk.

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The Last Night of Grief

“Before you kill us,” the philosopher said, standing before fangs dripping with searing venom and six pairs of blazing eyes, “let us ask you a question.”

The philosopher felt her heart beating within her chest. She winced at the feeling. It was not painful. Just sad. Her heart knew this was the moment of her death and it was still aching to keep her from it.

All six of the creature’s eyes were on her, but she was most directly in front of one pair in one giant dog-like head. She knew this one’s name. This one was Lucte. The name meant “grief.”

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Lucinda of the Ashes

Lucinda held her breath, as she raised the glass rod above the vial and tapped the rod to release the single drop of liquid that clung to its end.

The drop fell in the vial, joining the muddy liquid within. The liquid turned ruddy, then clear. And it stayed clear.

Lucinda dared to exhale just as the liquid began to swirl and turn ruddy, then muddy. She ducked under the table just before the vial shattered, spraying red flames and charred bits of glass in every direction.

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Panofus

Panofus spoke the last words of the spell and flicked his raised fingers in the proper precise configurations.  As he did, another sudden quake struck the tower.  And the room filled with gasps and cries of fear.

One of the children in the group of unpracticed mages standing before Panofus pulled away from the old woman who was holding him.

“What about you?” the child asked just as he began to fade from view.

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The Mage, the Troll, and the Gold Coins

When Sona first came upon the velvet sack lying just beside the road, she almost passed it by after a quick and curious glance.  But with a sigh, she veered off the path and knelt down to inspect the sack.  It was partly hidden beneath a bush, and the velvet was the color of leaf and dirt, so it was no wonder that another traveler had not yet found it and picked it up.  She lifted the sack and checked it for markings, a monogram or crest stitched into the fabric, or perhaps something a bit more subtle.  With one hand, she raised the sack, as she waved the other before her eyes, casting a lensing spell that would allow her to see any magical markings upon the sack.

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The Solar Pepper

They say he did it because he asked to sit by an innkeeper’s fire one night and was denied with a lie.  The innkeeper said that there was “not enough fire” to warm the man who was dressed in rags and filth.  He appeared to be a beggar, but he was not a beggar.  He was a warlock.  And he was none too pleased by the innkeeper’s response.  It was no surprise that he should cast a curse.  What was surprising was that he did not just cast the curse on the innkeeper himself, but on the innkeeper’s entire country.

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