The Young Mage Whimpered In My Arms When The First Soldier Passed By Our Hiding Spot. It Had Been Awhile

"Tell me something I don't know," I asked the strange man.

He looked up into the mostly cloudy sky and said, "All kids have magic. Some are allowed to keep it while others outgrow it."

"What makes those kids loose magic?" I scooted closer to him.

He looked... lost. "I don't know exactly why some don't keep the magic. Some say that they stop believing in the Elemental of the magic. Others say it depends on if their family had magic in it." His forget-me-not colored eyes bore into mine. "Then you get those like you. No one has come up with a rhyme or reason as to why you and other mages like you are here."

"I think they're meant to be here. All the mages and regular people. Everything wouldn't be the same without anyone missing."

"What about the disgraced king?"

"He is needed, too."

Author's Note

I am reading "Fictober" as you have to write fiction everyday, not fan fiction.

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

something that i will always remember of technoblade is how he was kind just for the sake of it.

i will remember him claiming the monopoly sound was too loud for him to hear wilbur when he spoke of techno staying up all night to comfort him when he was sick. i will remember him taking the time to add watermarks for his artists when they themselves forgot. i will remember niki and sophie saying how he always somehow made sure they never felt excluded or neglected and how he would hate it, it would embarrass him when they spoke of his kindness publicly. i will remember him personally dming ponk to thank them for sending a 45-minute video of someone feeding hotdogs to raccoons in chat and timestamping his favorite part. i will remember his love for the people who created for him, how he would keep his mentions on for everyone before his fanart tag was formed and would just scroll and scroll to make sure not to miss any art someone made for him. i will remember half his friends and peers having some kind of a story of him reaching out to them during tough days, reassuring them, believing in them, making them feel loved.

i will remember him in every act of kindness i receive and i will remember him during times in my life when i will need to remind myself to be kind despite it all.

I think it's so adorable that early humans took wild gourds - a tiny fruit that hollows out as it dries, making it float - and decided to make something out of it

they thought the tiny fruit was so good that they bred it for thousands of years, making it larger to form into bowls and cups, and different shapes to become bottles and spoons

and musical instruments

And then, people took the hollow gourds they farmed, and they turned them into houses for birds. We adapted them into the perfect houses for birds, and now there are specific breeds of birdhouse gourd just for making into birdhouses

And humans dedicated gardening space and time and thousands of years of breeding to make the gourds so absolutely perfect for birds, that there is a species of bird that lives almost exclusively in them

You are the first ever completely ethical vampire: you post the terms and conditions of trespassing, make it clear in the memo that said people are subject to be fed on… You can safely say that humanity’s stupidity has kept you alive for thousands of years.

As we neared the next building in the abandoned town, the highwayman just offered me a hankie.

"Um. Why?" I questioned him as a light flurry fell between us.

"You've sneezed every time we go from direct sunlight," he told me as he looked up to the partially cloudy skies above, "into a building and vice versa."

Why would he care if I sneezed or not? It's just sneezing. Although, I never noticed that I did that before.

"Just get going," he muttered when he caught sight of my expression. But there was something else in his tone. He wasn't angry like I thought he'd be.

"Thank you," I whispered as I took the hankie; processing what I realized.

"You can thank me when we get to where we need to be."

Like he predicted, when we crossed into the threshold of the building, I sneezed.

Original

Found this far funnier than I should have