I’d given up on this one months ago. A fantasy story about a witch struggling to keep their grimoire in order because of their ADD. It’s silly and supposed to be a little light-hearted, but somehow I lost confidence in it.
I returned to it with fresh eyes and feeling a little better about it now though. It was as good as done anyway, so some quick edits and it’s ready for critiques.
Are you up for some silly fantasy as a nice change of pace from the burning world around us? Like ADD witches and snarky familiars? Not scared for my dry sense of humour? Then send a tweet or mail my way (@winthernovels and email@example.com).
Need some more convincing first? Here’s an excerpt:
Aurelie flung her arms free from her bag, and shook her wrists to ring the bells on her metal bangles. She slowed down and took a couple deep breaths as she focused. With her mind’s eye she saw the arcane energy weaving in distinct currents through the forest. The sound of her chimes activated the energy, brightening around them with a fierce glitter. Aurelie bent the energy to her will and commanded it to fuel her spell.
Sweat trickled past her panting lips. This would have to work if they weren’t to become troll squash in a couple of more minutes. She summoned winds, whipping leafs and anything flammable up into the air above her and pulled heat from the sun towards the area of her spell. Another tug of arcane energy and it was ready to combust. She clapped her hands together and looked back at the product of her spell.
“Yes!” she exclaimed as sparks sprung from the darkening whirl of leafs and dirt. Aurelie came to a gradual stop and watched the troll’s reaction as the spell took its effect. Smoke and glowing ash fanned around the flare of her spell, then twirled down over the troll. He stopped, held his hands up to the ash and made a questioning noise.
They stared each other down, both with a confused frown on their brows, while Thax ran a short distance further before they stopped as well, arguing that they should keep moving on now they had the chance.
The troll coughed and let out a wet sneeze, extinguishing the last of the dying embers. His frown pulled into a scowl.