This is Part 24 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.
We approached the little cottage on the edge of the wood. Its walls were whitewashed stone and the roof golden thatch. Surrounding it, a colourful garden, a riot of blue, pink and white flowers had been planted.
As we got closer, the door to this small house held my attention. Where everything else about the cottage was simple, the door was anything but.
Swirls of iron clad the wood, spiralling one way and then another. There was a fluidity there, movement. How could this be? Iron was inanimate, yet more than that, it could not be spelled. It was anti-magic, not magical. A inhibitor to spell and charm and enchantment.
One of the Little Folk saw what I was staring at. ‘Marvellous, ain’t it?’ he said, grinning from ear-to-ear.
‘But how?’ I could not hide the wonder from my voice.
The only response I received was a cheeky wink.
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #24 | Word count: 146 – And now I’m up-to-date with the prompts! Woohoo!