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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

31

With the sun swimming ever lower, the two of you don't spend much longer sitting outside. After saying goodbye, Marlowe starts home a little ahead of you so they can feed their ferrets (plus Eliot's dogs), and soon afterwards, you begin to head back towards your house as well.

Now that it's just beginning to get dark, the streetlamps along your road have come on and are already casting a slightly unreal glow on the sidewalk. You move along slowly, feeling just slightly detached from your surroundings as your thoughts trail back through the day, landing inevitably on the most climactic moment of the meeting, when it was finally announced—

Halfway along your street, you come to a stop. You're not quite sure why at first; you're still so caught up in your head that you can't think what it is that's suddenly different. But something is—you're sure that something—

And then, looking around, your eyes land on one of the streetlamps just across from your house—and you realize. A second ago, you were walking through an amber-tinted world, but now, every single one of the streetlamps has blinked out. All that's left is the heavy blue of the oncoming evening, and the last few wisps of sunlight.

Blinking a few times in confusion, you watch to see if they'll come back on. When they don't, however, you just carry on walking, shrugging it off as some kind of random glitch with the power. After everything else you've seen today, this is hardly—

With a burst like a lightning bolt, all of the streetlamps light up so brightly that you have to throw a hand in front of your face. Squinting through your fingers, you turn to take in a street which is suddenly engulfed in sheer white light. You've never seen streetlamps shine so powerfully; but even so, you know there could be a very simple explanation.

And then, without warning, the streetlamps start to flash like burning stars.

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