Standing Storms

“Are you ready?”

It was a shout over the winds. Clarity cutting through the chaos of the wind, the rain.

The thunder.

It rocked the sky. Bellowing a challenge above us. Barking through waves of lightning—dangerous, sparking smiles that made the hairs on my legs stand up. Clouds coming together, forming a mutiny above us. Cackling at the open ground below.

At the terrified people.

Cowering beneath the dark, bruised skies.

Looking up, I felt that fear. Felt the wicked grin of the storm pressing on me, pushing me. Urging me to roll over. To lay down and die.

But.

That wasn’t what I came here to do.

So.

As the wind roared, and the thunder croaked, and the lightning tickled the earth—tagging the earth’s surface—I nodded.

“I’m ready,” I yelled back.

Unafraid of the storm. Continue reading “Standing Storms”

To Be Trifled With

Warlocks were not to be trifled with.

That’s how the saying goes. How it’s been for thousands of years, despite no one really using the word “trifled” anymore.

Because there really wasn’t any other way to put it.

Warlocks were not to be trifled with.

How stupid do you have to be to ignore a thousand-year-old saying?

Pretty stupid, I think.

So, I don’t know what that makes me. But, it probably isn’t good. Continue reading “To Be Trifled With”

Dark Preys at Night

The woods are not a place for playing.

Not at night.

I tell every one of them that. Every one of them that comes by my hut. I do everything possible to make it clear to them:

Be home by sundown.

Go home.

Don’t stick around.

Don’t wait for night.

Don’t.

Because the night is waiting too. Continue reading “Dark Preys at Night”

Victory Well

Honestly, I have no idea how it came to this. One minute, I was looking into the well, commenting on the old rocks. The decrepit state the old well was in. How it used to be used so often, and now it sat abandoned. Condemned. People speculated that it was cursed even. That the waters never ended in the bottom.

And now?

Now I was hanging off the side. My hand gripping a loose rock as I fought off the notion of falling down. Of plummeting into the dark water.

Of never coming out again.

I don’t know how I got here.

I don’t know.

Continue reading “Victory Well”