Prologue: In the beginning.
As Benjamin gave yet another futile tug at the collar of his tunic, Roy’s barely audible voice called to him from the hall, outside his room.
“Hey Benji.” You coming out or am I going to have to attend this luncheon alone?”
“One second.” He yelled in the general direction of the door, as the collar, stubbornly snapped back into place.
The tunic given to him by the Elf Elwynn,( Allison’s new friend, staunch protector and Elf Medic) (2nd class) was light blue, trimmed with fuzzy gold piping and made of fabric, which looked like wool, but smelled like land-fill.
After reassuring him it was a dress uniform, Elwynn told him the fabric was called resistente ás intempéries, and like most things he had come across, (since three days earlier, entering the Elfin Realm, along with Roy, and Allison) imbued with magical properties.
‘Benjamin stared into the full length mirror on the Closet door, and shook his head. Despite Elwynn insistence, he felt sure all this get up needed was pictures of little horses and attached feet.
He stared at his jeans and tee shirt lying the bed, then bit down on his lower lip, as a stray thought entered his mind, resistente ás intempéries , Weatherproof was that one word in English…. or two? Weather and Proof, maybe it was a compound word. ‘Whatever, he thought semantics?’
As he turned away from the mirror, the raised collar on the tunic pressed itself firmly against his neck, the fuzzy piping tickled and made him feel a little itchy. He tried once more to pull the fabric away, with no luck, the collar reacted like it had a mind of its own. (in this place, it probably did) Sighing in resignation as it snapped back into place, he decided to abandon the attempt and carefully ran his thumbs over the matching cloth jewel studded belt, smoothing out imagined wrinkles.
“Benji, come on already, I’m starving.” The last punctuated by the sound of three muffled thumps.
Benjamin shook his head, and walked towards the door. Not even Roy stood a chance of making any impression on that door, solid oak, reinforced with mahogany, and at the very least, 3 feet thick.
He ran his fingers lightly over the Intricate rune carvings winding across its surface. While he had learned enough to know that the runes meant it was magically protected, he wasn’t clear on what exactly the runes meant, or what an unwanted visitor could expect, but he suspected it wouldn’t be pleasant.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!