What follows is Part 52, 53 & 54 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.
Time to Think (Lyr #52)
I’m not ashamed to say I felt the prickling of fear invade my heart, if only for a moment. Everything was suddenly beyond my control, my fate in the hands of another. Someone who possessed the magic of an enchanter.
I recalled the words The Hag had spoken to me only moments before: You’re not really there. My senses at once awakened.
I closed my eyes and ignored the enchanter’s web that was currently dragging me against my will to Mortlea Manor, when another thought struck. I needed a moment to dwell on it, and to do that, I needed time. Something I currently lacked.
An enchantment was called for. With eyes still closed, I summoned a simple dreamspell. At once the bindings loosened, and I hit the earth with a bump. I was in a small woodland in the grounds of the Manor, but I had no time to waste sightseeing…
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #52 | Word count: 152
A Boat Adrift (Lyr #53)
Time was short. Using a basic charm to break the binding had worked (most enchanters think on too grand a scale, believing bigger is better, which is almost never true), though it wouldn’t take long for my own spell to be countered. In the intervening time I needed to think.
I paced between the trees, letting my thoughts run wild.
If I’m not really here how could someone else’s magic work on me? Why had I not heard The Hag’s voice again? If this wasn’t real, was it possible for me to be taken to Mortlea Manor against my will? After all, hadn’t I actually wanted to go there?
‘If you can hear me, now might be a good time to offer some advice,’ I said quietly to The Hag. But there was nothing, only silence. I was a boat adrift…completely out of my depth…and very much alone.
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #53 | Word count: 148
Through The Portal (Lyr #54)
There was no time to ponder further. Storm clouds gathered and crashed overhead. There was no rain, but there was plenty of magic. The sound was deafening. Startled, I clasped my hands to the side of my head. A portal opened in the trees in front of me, and before I could think to do anything, a swirling vortex pulled me into it.
I twisted and turned in the air, and the world for the most part went dark, except for strange lights that flashed passed me. Then, as quickly as the whole thing started, it stopped and I was deposited (with another bump) on a cold, hard floor.
I looked around. I was in a vaulted room, the only light coming from hundreds of lit candles. It felt subterranean, but also sacred, like a temple.
I didn’t know where I was, but I knew I had been here before…
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #54 | Word count: 150