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Stone in the shoe

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.” Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

PlayerOliver · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
443 Chs

27

The sky is still bright as you step outside, but something about the mood of the town around you makes it seem later in the day than it really is. Even though there would usually be people wherever you looked on a day like this, right now you get the feeling that a lot of people don't feel much like staying out in the sun.

Of course, as you leave the Town Hall, you do see a good number of happy faces, breathing sighs of relief as they step into the light. But all around them, there are slumped shoulders and tense jaws. And among the protesters, who huddle together just ahead of you, there are tears.

Somehow, as you look around you, things seem less decided than before the vote was announced.

Since you already made plans with Marlowe for after the meeting, you head back towards your street without stopping anywhere else in town. You're still so caught up in your thoughts that it doesn't even cross your mind to check for any more malfunctioning electronics until you're almost right outside your house, where a streetlamp catches your eye and reminds you of all the strange things that happened today, up until the vote itself overtook everything else.

You eye the streetlamp for a few moments as you get closer to your door, half wondering if anything is going to happen—but nothing does. Turning towards your driveway instead, you think to yourself that you had almost been expecting something big to happen after the things you saw earlier, as if those glitches, like the vote itself, were building to something somehow. You're not sure if you're just overthinking it, but you can't quite shake the feeling that there was a reason it was happening today.

The fact that Arctus doesn't appear the second you enter the house tells you that she's probably fast asleep somewhere—and sure enough, you find her stretched out on the couch in the living room.

You smile to yourself when you see her, wondering if she has any idea what the town has been going through lately. Really, though, you think it's probably better if she doesn't.

You don't have very long to wonder about it, though, because very soon you hear a knock on the door. When you answer it, Marlowe is there just as you had planned—but as soon as you meet their heavy eyes, you can see that they must have heard the news.

"Hey—have you heard about the result? I think that's sort of what I was expecting, but…it's still kind of a shock. I was kind of hoping they wouldn't go that way. Would you mind if we took a walk, maybe? I've been sitting inside all day, and after this I think I just need to be outside for a bit."

In just a few minutes, the two of you are walking through one of the fields near your house, talking a little but mostly just taking in the fresh air as it grows cooler in the late afternoon. Even though the vote is the biggest thing on both of your minds, Marlowe seems very keen not to dwell on it, instead telling you about the latest plot development in the story they've been writing. That changes, however, when you find somewhere to sit down—and after a few moments' quiet, Marlowe says:

"I think I've been kind of trying not to think about these developments too much. I think I've gotten pretty used to just being in my own world a lot of the time—I mean, I know I work for the news, but when I'm at home, I just want to write and forget about it. I think part of me thinks that, if I just ignore it all, it won't affect me."

You recognize the tinge of self-doubt creeping into their voice, and you realize you haven't heard it this pronounced for a little while. Before you can start to say anything, however, they look at you and ask:

"How are you after hearing the news? Are you all right?"