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Literature

All It Costs Is Your Life!

“Merry Christmas, Sunny!” The boy raised an eyebrow as he turned a large, flat disc covered in decorative red paper over in his hands, glancing up at a beaming Aubrey, then back down to the present. He didn’t really get the point of wrapping something if it was still so obvious what it was, but he didn’t mind too much. Tearing the present out of its gift wrap was often a lot more fun than playing with what he actually got, so he made sure to relish the brief moments of ripping seams through the packaging, a small smile crossing his face as he opened his present. His soft, cheerful expression faded a bit once he got the plate out of its colorful wrapping paper, surprised to find that it didn’t have any distinctive design or decoration. He looked back up at his pink-haired friend, not bothering to hide his bewilderment. This was a weird gift…at least, he was pretty sure it was a weird gift. Christmas still managed to surprise him sometimes; for some reason, Hero had been overjoyed when

Literature

Internal Dungeon

“Out of my way, peons!” an obnoxious-looking person ordered pompously, making her way down the Underwater Highway. She pushed past disgruntled locals and turned at the end of the road to make her way towards Deeper Well, only to stop short when she encountered a picnic blanket. “Oh, hello!” said the girl seated on the blanket, offering a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you! I’m Mari, and who might you be?” “Who…? Well, I never!” the person—who upon closer inspection actually appeared to be made of bread, Mari noted—said, affronted. “To think, there are those in Headspace who can’t recognize my glorious visage on sight! Truly, it must be a dismal life you lead, having never even heard of my majesty.” “Hang on, don’t I know you from somewhere?” Mari asked. She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s right! You’re that princess from Pyrefly Forest…Sweetheart, was it?” “Obviously!” her guest replied with a haughty laugh. “You commoners are awfully foolish, aren’t you?

Literature

Making a Mage a Meal: Amity's Gurgling Gift

Boscha was many things—the star captain of Hexside’s grudgby team, the most popular student in school, and admittedly a bit of a bully—but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that her short temper was a problem, which is why she put so much effort into grudgby matches and picking on weaker witches. She didn’t get her social status by annoying people who actually mattered, and she wasn’t about to start now. She did wonder, from time to time, if that’s why Amity’s recent change in personality annoyed her as much as it did. Boscha had lived her whole life knowing that if you want to be popular, you can’t just hang out with nerds and pushovers—which is why she made a point of associating with Amity, one of the most powerful witches in the Boiling Isles and the pride of the prestigious Blight family. She’d thought the abominations student understood those unwritten rules as well as she did…but then the last few months had happened. Some nobody of a human had gotten into Hexside and befriended

Literature

Composted Caretaker

Basil sighed, gently cupping the drooping leaves of one of his plants in one hand, then letting them fall with a troubled frown. The gardener’s frustration was plain to see, his body slouched as he struggled to think of a way to rescue the crop of failing flowers before him. “Everything alright, Basil?” The boy glanced up, forcing a weak smile as he saw that Polly had followed him out to the side yard. The nurse was only supposed to be a temporary caretaker for him, but it was obvious how much she cared about Basil’s wellbeing, something he was quite grateful for. Nobody else could read him like a book the way she did, and she could clearly tell that something was wrong right now. “Not r-really…” he admitted, his natural nervousness making him a bit awkward even with somebody he knew as well as his caretaker. “Fix-It hasn’t had any fertilizer for…almost a w-week, and the garden really needs it. I’m worried the f-flowers might die…” He gestured to the struggling seedlings, their

Literature

Toxicological Fallacies

Many Starfleet officers would’ve been startled by the sound of a knock against the door of their quarters. Almost nobody did it anymore—the short beep that announced somebody’s arrival was enough warning for most, and those who wanted a bit more privacy would simply request a quick call to their combadge from anybody who was about to stop by. Hearing somebody physically knock on a Federation starship was a rare enough occurrence that even a veteran captain with decades of service might have never heard it. T’Lyn was, however, not a typical officer. At the sudden sound of a few thumps against her door, she simply stood and walked over to open it. The Vulcan hadn’t experienced much in her brief Starfleet career that could make her so much as raise an eyebrow…though the sight waiting for her as the door raised to reveal her visitors was one of those things. “Thanks, T’Lyn,” Tendi said breathlessly, hurrying past her friend to the bed behind her. She’d been visiting every few nights for

Literature

Luz's Unlucky Lunch

The campus of Hexside School of Magic and Demonics was abuzz with activity. It was late autumn, around the time of Thanksgiving in the human realm, and the Boiling Isles were celebrating their equivalent: the Samhain Harvest, a day of feasting and relaxation. There were technically supposed to be classes today, but all the teachers had dismissed early for the holiday, and most of the students had stayed around to enjoy a fair that had been set up in front of the school. Luz, the only human studying at Hexside, stared in wonderment at the various attractions and the students stuffing themselves as she paced from stall to stall. She wondered absentmindedly if witches’ biological differences included a more malleable stomach; many of her peers proudly displayed overstuffed, round bellies, some of which seemed large enough to fit a whole person inside. Surely the squirming she’d seen and the muffled cries she’d heard were just her imagination, though…right? While wandering through the

Literature

Bird of Prey

“Oof, hold on, I gotta…catch my breath…” Avery paused for a moment, looking out over the magnificent vista visible from the top of Hawk Peak. At this time of the night, the whole park was lit up with the afterglow of the sunset and shimmering strands of the northern lights, illuminating the gentle snowfall whirling around the mountaintop. Few of the park’s visitors ever made it here, and none had ever come close to matching Avery’s ability to soar all the way to the peak in a matter of seconds…until now. “Okay!” they said, straightening and smiling at their new friend. “Claire, you got me beat! I think I owe you this…” Avery rummaged around in their pockets for a few moments before pulling out a shiny medal, handing it over to Claire. “Woah!” the other bird said, examining it curiously. “Where’d ya get this?” Avery paused for a moment. “I have my ways! …anyway, next time we race,” they added, eager to change the topic, “I’ll be sure to use what I learned from you!” Claire hummed