DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
1 February 2024
It took another hour or so to reach the shack in the center of the swamp. A rickety old sign teetered at the edge of the island, with the words, “Fortunes and Potions! No Refunds.”
“Isn’t your godmother a witch? Isn’t this, like, child’s play compared to the things she can do?”
Isaac shrugged. “Maybe? But Maleficent’s even worse than Mom is when I get near magic. I think she blames herself for what happened with my sister.”
It took another hour or so to reach the shack in the center of the swamp. A rickety old sign teetered at the edge of the island, with the words, “Fortunes and Potions! No Refunds.” The shack looked dilapidated at first glance, but closer inspection revealed it was actually quite sturdy, and just designed to look bleak.
With a grin far too wide for the dreary atmosphere, Isaac said, “Well, let’s check it out!” He marched right up to the door and pounded on the door, with Phillip only a couple steps behind him.
A scratchy female voice called out, “Just a minute!” A short time later, the lock clicked and the door opened a crack, revealing a hunched, beady-eyed woman even shorter than Isaac. She wore a fraying green dress over her stooped frame. “Yes? What can Alne and Deifra do for you?”
Alne and Deifra… Something about the names tickled the back of Isaac’s mind, but he put it aside. “Hi! I heard you do fortunes?”
“Yes, yes! Come in, come in!” The old woman led them into the building…
23 January 2024
Isaac lifted an eyebrow and smirked at his friend. “Didn’t I tell you? There’s been reports of a pair of witches around here. What kind of prince would I be if I let my people suffer such things?”
“No, I get that part.” Phillip grunted as he jerked one foot free. “What I mean is, why are we here?
“Remind me. Why are we here again?”
Isaac lifted an eyebrow and smirked at his friend. Phillip was currently knee-deep in muck, and the odor of the swamp didn’t help improve his mood. “Didn’t I tell you? There’s been reports of a pair of witches around here. What kind of prince would I be if I let my people suffer such things?”
“No, I get that part.” Phillip grunted as he jerked one foot free. “What I mean is, why are we here? Don’t you have an army specifically to take care of stuff like this?”
Isaac hopped over to another dry patch of ground. “Why? Don’t think we can take care of it?”
Phillip responded with a flat look. “Isaac, we’re fourteen. What, exactly, do you intend to do if there really is a witch?”
For a very long moment, Isaac didn’t respond. “Did you know? This report was very strange. A large number of otherwise credible people have encountered these ‘witches’, with all sorts of strange, almost unbelievable stories. A bald man started getting his hair back, only for a number of local pets to start losing patches of fur. A family spends one year nearly destitute after a visit, only to get a double crop the year after that.”
Phillip squelched another step forward. “Yeah, okay. And?”
“The strange part is, no one can agree on what they look like. Youn, old, frail, stocky… There is only one detail that never changes. One of the witches is closely associated with green, and the other with pink.”