Dangerous Accusations

We tumbled across the front lawn, the grass feeling wet and cool through my thin, pink pajamas. The goon howled as his knee burst into blue flames while his fellows looked on in amazement. Two more approached with practiced confidence only to be rebuffed by a blast of pink wind, a simple elemental spell. One more dared make the advance, but he sank knee deep in the yard.

I couldn’t help but smile at their air of shock and dismay, “Why so surprised, boys? You’re the ones who accused me of being a witch, aren’t you?”

In retrospect taunting the goons may not have been the best idea. On the other hand, after years of hiding the gifts of Gaia, a heritage of Seraphim, my true and glorious self, there was a certain pleasure in unleashing spells I had only dared whisper under my breath.

Bands of fae held five fast while needles of hoarfrost afflicted six more. Three tasted pure hellfire, and the last two fell to Kali’s madness. With one last kiss blown homeward I left for my destiny, journal and pen in hand.

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