A young Muslimah. A supporter of friendship and peace. A resident of the Philippines.

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  • moirahathena196 1w

    Title: The Gift
    Genre: Fantasy
    Word Count: 2,620

    For the first part, please click #the_gift_shortstory

    Part 2 (Final Part)


    "A few hours ago, my life was perfectly normal."

    It was just a rainy Sunday at the city of York. And Amanda, though heart broken, dared to open the box that contained her father's last gift. She held the brown book in her hands. It's cover made out of leather. Decorated with a smooth, golden trim. Of flowers and swirls. Small hints of its origin.

    She flipped to page nine, where the first tale could be found. The tale she read before falling asleep. Before she disappeared.

    She gently caressed the neatly printed title.
    I. Stefan

    "History written as fairy tales." She muttered. "Most of which about the unity of humans and magical beings."

    "But it all changed when Ambroz took the throne," Vivien had said. "He had an unexplainable hatred for mythical beings and half-bloods. And did not like how history glorified their image."

    "So he secretly killed all the Tale Keepers. Immortal, for they are immune to sickness and old age. But not to murder."

    "It was the only way to erase all the written tales. The only way to make room for change. For propaganda."

    "But Lucian, the oldest, and the one who wrote the first three tales, was a hard catch. He hid in many places. But before he was finally found, he duplicated the book. With the first three tales correct, but the rest unwritten. He then casted it off to a land he himself did not know where. He foresaw your coming, and knew you would find it."

    "He was then killed. And for the past thirty years, no one has ever arrived with the Duplicate."

    "Except you."

    "Each corrected tale will weaken Ambroz. For it was he who retold them in the first place."

    "His weakness will be enough for the Revolution to kill him."

    "B-But I am no writer." She lied.

    "The book would never choose someone who clearly does not master the art of tales."

    "But I Iost my pen…" She whispered sadly. She couldn't correct the tales. She couldn't save the Kingdom. She could possibly never return home.

    "That's how fantasy novels work, right? I'm doomed."

    She watched the sky with sorrow.

    "I don't believe writers could ever lose their pen." A voice said.

    Edward walked towards her, staring at the captivating night sky. He paused for a moment. Then turned. And she met his light brown eyes. Greatly illuminated by the bright moonlight. She found herself curious as to what wisdom he might advise. So she spoke softly.

    "What makes you say such?"

    He smiled. "I can read people quite well. And I can tell that you have had a great history with words. There is just something that made you stop."

    "My father," She said. "He was the only supporter I had. And ever since his death, no one ever dared to give me words of encouragement."

    "Does anyone else read your works?"

    "A few." She replied. "But ever since I took a break to work for his medication, they just… disappeared."

    "It was only my father, then. He read my last story a few weeks before he died. He said it was beautiful, and that I just needed to work on some minor typos."

    "It has been lonely without him…"

    Edward held both her hands. Squeezing her palms as comfort. "I'm sorry, Miss Amanda."

    "And I'm sorry too." She replied. Eyes glistening with tears. "I'm expressing my feelings to a stranger."

    "Let me ask you, Miss. Do you love to write?"

    "Yes." She sniffed. "I-I just wish I could be inspired."

    "It used to be my escape from problems. It was comfort, and something I was proud of."

    "Does your father know this? That you love to write?"

    "Yes. Out of all the people in the world."

    "Then he wouldn't like to see you quit." He gave her a meaningful look. "And if you love it for what it is, an escape and comfort, then it probably won't matter if you have readers or not."

    "And I too believe that if you have grown to love a certain craft, it will be part of you. And shall never leave."

    He let go of her hands, and she proceeded to wipe the tears away with her palms. "Sorry if this sounds rather rude," She said. "But are you saying this so that I could help save your Kingdom?"

    "I know you want to." He answered. "Have you read the story of the first King? Stefan?"

    "Yes. I find it quite fascinating."

    "But I never thought that his Kingdom actually existed."

    "I write fantasy, but deep inside, I knew magic wasn't real."

    "It had always been real." Edward said. "Does it not exist in your world?"

    She shook her head. No.

    "I see."

    "I'm sorry that you are in this situation… It must be unfortunate for you."

    "But I do hope you could help us. Ambroz is a horrible ruler."

    "Maybe you should not think of it as saving a Kingdom. But rather a way to reignite your passion."

    She stared into his hopeful eyes. She loved fantasy, and was finally part of one. And it's not like she could leave the fantastic realm anytime soon.

    "Will you help inspire me?" She asked.

    Edward smiled.


    It had been a week of staying in Grenfore. And Amanda had grown accustomed to wearing long gowns, as well as navigating the long, winding halls of Thomas' estate.

    Thomas was a kind man. He was around fifty one, and he ran the estate very well. She had found out that he was a merchant. So he had loads of unique goods lying around. Most of which were from foreign lands. Axel, Vivien, and Edward were his companions. All of them part of the Revolution.

    There were maids and butlers around the home, but none of them knew about the uprising. She didn't know if that was a good thing, but she hoped for the best. Especially that she was a major weapon in helping them win.

    "There you are!" Edward called. "Hurry up, it's already three o'clock!"

    She smiled. He was quite the bubbly type. Edward had become a very close friend of hers. And after the night of their conversation, he began to take her out on trips. Narrating to her the original Tales, which he would hear as bedtime stories when he was a child. The young man was an orphan, his father killed in a massacre conducted by the Tyrant. Which aimed to get rid of all those who knew about the Tales. Leaving only infants. The new generation, blind to the secret sins of their King.

    "My father and I were shifters." He had said. "I, a nightingale. And he, a hawk. He knew we were doomed the moment he saw the guards nearing our home. He urged me to fly out the window as fast as I could. I obeyed. I was only a child at that time."

    "I never saw him again. I flew for days, 'till I landed in the hands of Sir Thomas. He knew I was a shifter, and he took me in. Along with Vivien, who was Lucian's good friend. She had escaped from the Massacre with her invisibility. Axel was a healer, who entered the home three years after we did."

    "Magicians are greatly oppressed in this land. From high taxes to being rid of education and employment. Even getting locked in the dungeons."

    "But thanks to Sir Thomas' reputation, we were out of suspicion. Vivien and I have been spying on the King for quite a while. And Sir Thomas would plan as to how we would execute His Majesty."

    They rode in a lot of carriages to the palace. It was the day of the uprising, and there were only about a hundred of them. Some of the others had left first, and were waiting for them to arrive.

    She sat beside Edward, and she embraced the book tightly. All their trips had greatly inspired her to rewrite the tales. And she was proud to say that she had finished all twelve of them in a span of six days. The last one of which was the Tale of Claudius VI. Poisoned by his own foster brother: the Tyrant.

    They rode in silence. Edward held her hand, and Vivien squeezed her shoulder. Thomas and Axel looked at her with sad expressions.

    "As a temporary Keeper, I could see the future through dreams." Amanda said. "You will succeed. And the moment you enter the palace gates, I will return to my home."

    "I entrust this book to Vivien. She will meet the next Keeper three days after Thomas is crowned King."

    "I cannot tell you more than that. But I know that all will be well."

    And after a few moments of tears, they all embraced. Their carriage came to a stop. And Amanda handed the book to Vivien.

    "Will we ever see you again?" Edward asked.

    Tears fell from Amanda's eyes. "You will all be in my heart."

    Edward's lips gently touched her forehead, and she watched as the band of revolutionaries met outside the palace gates. Guards were sprawled on the ground, and Thomas slowly opened the doors to success.

    And with that, she closed her eyes. She felt herself sitting on the familiar wooden chair. In front of her desk, and by her glass window.

    She cried, but after that, she never stopped writing.

    Her father had picked up an incomplete book from the bookstore. A gift to nourish another.

    It was the best one she had ever received.

    "I love you, Father." She whispered. "Thank you."

    "And thank you to all of Grenfore."

    ---THE END---

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    "I don't believe writers could ever lose their pen."

  • moirahathena196 1w

    •WB Writing Contest: Judge's Choice, 3rd Place•

    Title: The Gift
    Genre: Fantasy
    Word Count: 2,620

    Story will be divided into 2 parts.
    Story tag ---> #the_gift_shortstory

    Part 1

    "Will she be alright?"

    "She will. It's just a small gash on the arm. Nothing to worry about."

    "Oh, I do hope she wakes up."

    "But in any way, do you happen to know this woman?"

    "W-Well, Edward said he found her in the forest."

    "She could be a member of Ambroz's Court, you know."

    Amanda's eyes flew open. Panic surging through her veins as a bright orange light swept in from the ceiling. She blinked, adjusting to the view. 'That isn't a light bulb.' She realized. 'It's a lantern.'

    "How could you be certain?"

    Her heart thumped fast. Sweat forming above her forehead. She quickly sat up, only to fall back down due to the heaviness of her body.

    "She's already awake, Axel!"

    "...Please don't sit down. You are still recovering from the spell."


    "How are you feeling, young miss?"

    Amanda stared at the two strangers before her. Both on opposite sides of her bed, concern evident on their faces. She stayed silent. Unsure whether to be afraid, or not. She wasn't at home. And hospitals definitely did not use lanterns for lighting.

    "W-Where am I?"

    The two looked at each other, contemplating. There was an awkward silence in the room. And Amanda didn't like it one bit. The middle aged woman cleared her throat, choosing to answer her question.

    "You're at the Rile Estate." She said.

    Confusion etched her features. Amanda didn't recognize the name.

    "In which city?" She asked nervously.

    "The city of Destrel." The young man replied. "Capital of Grenfore."


    "Please tell me this is just some sick old prank."

    "So you're not from here?"

    "Of course not! That Kingdom only exists in a book."

    "Whatever do you mean, miss?"

    The door swung open with a bang.

    "Edward, thank goodness you're here."

    Amanda watched as another man stepped into the room. His hair glimmered under the light, and she could tell it was blonde. He had a fair complexion, and was wearing trousers. Paired with a long sleeved shirt and a dark gray vest.

    He was oddly familiar.

    Her mind flashed back to a few hours past. She awoke to an uncomfortable feeling beneath her. And the first thing she saw was the late afternoon sky, lined with trees and their lush canopy. The only thing she had was her book, which she held over her chest. And she wore the same outfit she did at home. A pair of loose pajamas and a simple white T-Shirt.

    "It's you." She breathed, pointing at the new arrival.

    She had panicked, and knew that she needed to get out of the strange wood. She ran once she heard a rustling sound, of fear that it might be some sort of snake. She was being careless. Until she bumped into him. Having been able to get a quick glimpse of his face before she suddenly fell unconscious due to a great feeling of dizziness.

    "Edward," The man named Axel spoke. "Do you know this woman?"

    "I'm afraid not." He replied. "I was out to hunt for our dinner when she came running straight at me."

    "But I couldn't leave her alone." He added. "She seemed lost, then fell unconscious just after a few seconds."

    "It was a Dizzy Spell. But who might have casted it on you, miss?" The woman asked.
    And all eyes were on Amanda. She couldn't answer, though. For she herself did not know, and could not understand the nonsense.

    "She seemed to have angered Grumpy Old Willow." Answered Edward. "She was being quite careless on the run. Probably stepped on one of his roots. I heard his complaints myself."

    "That explains it." Snapped Axel. "Grumpy Old Willow is not called Grumpy for nothing."

    "Now miss, if you could kindly tell us where you're from. We'd be kind enough to send a carriage for you."

    "But that's the problem." Amanda muttered, staring at her blanket. "My name is Amanda Grey. And I am not from here."


    "Britain." Thomas mused. "Never heard of it."

    The clatter of spoons and forks echoed throughout the dining room as they all ate. But Amanda barely even touched her food. A sinking feeling laying still in her stomach.

    "Of course." She said. "I-I must be trapped in that ghastly book!"

    "What book?" The woman, whose name was Vivien, asked.

    "That book I had in the forest." She turned to Edward. "Where did you put it?"

    "In my room." He replied, and Amanda stared at him accusingly. "Don't fret." He put both his hands up as a sign of innocence. "I didn't open it. I'll go get it for you." And with that, he left the table.

    Thomas Rile, the Master of the House, looked at her with curiosity. "What book might that be?"

    She didn't answer. Only waited. The thump of boots echoed throughout the hall shortly after. And Edward came back, holding her book.

    She thanked him, gently grabbing it before taking her seat once again. "This book." She pointed, then hurriedly flipped to page five. "Tales of Grenfore."

    A deafening silence filled the room, and Amanda could clearly see their shock. She too, was confused. Worried. She knew there was something about the book. And she was starting to feel that she might never flee from it.

    "May I see?" Vivien asked, and Amanda quickly handed her the book. She flipped through the pages, pausing to read each passage. It took her long minutes. But once she had finished, her lips formed a smile. Tears of joy falling down her cheeks.

    "T-These are all real accounts. This is not Ambroz's work!"

    Each had their own read of the Tales. And in the end, all were shocked. Doctor Axel's mouth was agape, Thomas and Edward had smiles spread about their faces, and Vivien silently cried.

    "It's you." Thomas beamed. "You are the one whom Lucian foresaw!"

    "You will help us bring down the Tyrant."

    Amanda sat dumbfounded, the harsh realization slowly sinking into her brain.

    'Damn it.' She thought.


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    "The Gift"

    A short story by Moirah Abpi

  • moirahathena196 1w

    #mirakee #fantasy #mirror #doppelganger #revenge #deception #short #flashfiction

    . . .

    The Mirror Maiden

    Elena stared at herself. A strange feeling of dread settling down into her stomach as she thought; there was something wrong with her reflection.

    Her fair skin shone in contrast to her black dress. And a matching shawl modestly covered her cleavage and shoulders. Her dark brown hair was neatly tied in a bun. Small lips the same, light pink.

    Oh it was her, all right. Definitely Elena Suarez.

    But there was a growing itch deep inside. A voice yelling from the deepest pit of her mind. She continued to stare. Nervousness sending shivers down her spine.

    Elena walked closer, analyzing. Looking deeper. She then came to a pause. Gaze landing on her own eyes.

    They were the same, chestnut brown. Light resting on the left from the wide, open window.
    There it is. She thought. Above the white speck she could see herself: staring back. Elena blinked.

    Pulling away, she began to reassure herself. Whispering words of comfort. She looked at her bed. Suddenly wanting to sleep the whole noon. Yet she knew she couldn't do such.

    "They won't notice." She muttered, pacing. "They won't care."

    She walked towards the mirror.

    "It will be alright, Selena. All will be well."

    She stared at herself again.

    She remembered her days living behind glass. Gazing into her counterpart's eyes, dreading the time she must remind her of death. Elena was a kind soul. Warning her about how she would die managed to pain Selena's heart.

    But it was duty.

    She had shown her through a dream. And the young maiden woke up at around midnight. Terrified and concerned. However, upon waking up again in the early morning, she had managed to forget. Pushing it out of thought.

    So far out, that when it finally happened, she was still unprepared.

    Now, her counterpart's soul lay trapped. Restless within the depths of the lake she was drowned in. Having no idea who her murderer might be. Having no chance to avenge herself despite the deep desire.

    So they conversed. And Selena was determined: She would do it for her.

    She held onto the mirror frame. Gazing into the glass and beyond. The place that was once home.

    Thoughts of rewards came to her as well. Her counterpart was dead. She had no reason to stay in the barrier. She could choose to become the wind. Or live in the Mirrored Kingdom. She was free.

    But she shook them off.

    "For Elena." She whispered.

    Letting out a breath, she proceeded to lift her skirts.

    She would play as her counterpart for a while. So far, she had agreed to meet Sir Francisco. For marrying the mayor's son was a good way to gain power. A good way to find the killer.

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    "There was something wrong with her reflection."

  • moirahathena196 3w

    Tatoo of words,
    Master of tales and prose!
    The chosen one.

  • moirahathena196 4w

    #mirakee #poem #retelling #fairytale #dark #wolf

    "Little Red"

    Little Red, lonely Red,
    The Shadow's at your door.
    It screamed, kicked, punched,
    Glass crunched.
    Yet you still lay on the floor.
    Why, little Red?
    Are you afraid, little Red?
    Look, it's breaking the wood!

    Stand up, little Red.
    Push the window panes.
    Grab your cloak, little Red.
    And cloth for wounds of bane.
    Flee, little Red!
    Jump, run, wherever you can!
    The scarlet leaves are calling you.
    Follow them.

    Don't listen, little Red.
    Don't be lonely Red again.
    The trees are weak, they always bend,
    And speak of non but shame.
    But what did they say, little Red?
    That you're a worthless chap?
    Why, woe to them!
    Don't listen, little Red.

    "But truth it is, the trees don't lie."
    "The Shadow thinks the same."
    "You can't even ace a test of ballgame."
    "No wonder why you get bruised all night."
    A Dark Wolf, little Red.
    Big, bad, fast.
    "It's nice to see you again, little Red."
    Don't listen, run like it's your last.

    Faster, little Red!
    But wait! Look, a house!
    Knock on the door, little Red.
    And an old woman comes out.
    "A sweet child, a pretty child." She says.
    She takes you in as her own.
    Days have passed, you're happy now.
    But all is just a joke.

    The Woodland guards enter the house.
    Followed by cruel Woodland Queen
    The innocent woman is charged of rebellion;
    So her throat gets cut to seams.
    "So cry, Young Red. I'll listen. I'm a friend."
    The Dark Wolf came back quickly, then.
    Getting bigger, the more tears you shed.
    Getting bigger, mouth wider,

    Then there was no more little Red.

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    "Little Red"

    (A metaphorical retelling of Little Red Riding Hood)

  • moirahathena196 4w

    She yearned to live there; a land far away...
    Where magic dwells, and pixies play.


  • moirahathena196 4w

    I just had to make another one �� #studentmemes #meme57_wt

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    The whole class when a teacher announces a quiz that they forgot about.

  • moirahathena196 4w

    Me realizing that tomorrow's the deadline for a school project that I haven't even started doing.

  • moirahathena196 6w

    •Filipino Pencrafters Valentines WriCon: Second Best Crafter•

    "Masked Mirror"
    ©moirahathena196 (Moirah Abpi)

    The lake glistened below the bright majesty of moonlight. Soft whispers of the wind humming, as it's waters danced to the hymn. "Slow and graceful," She said. "Good! Just like that."

    Catherine twirled one last time, carrying skirts of blue. Her long hair was like a rose, its scent fresh. The dark red lit up by lanterns that hung along the branches of trees. Her eyes shimmered: excitement running through her veins. Silently waiting.

    "Only a few more minutes 'till midnight." She whispered, hoping it'll reach the clocks. She had been waiting for this night. The night she'll be able to dance and sing. But most importantly, she will once again see him.

    It was all she's ever wanted.

    The wind howled, and she began to embrace herself. Just two more minutes. She thought. He'll be here.


    She heard the sound of footsteps. Gentle drumbeats atop the soft grass. Catherine turned, her eyes meeting his. For moments, they only stared. A sweet hazel against a sharp, formidable gray.

    She smiled. "Julian."


    She took a step closer. "I've been waiting since eleven."

    Julian smiled apologetically, and for a brief moment, checked his wrist watch. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long. But I did say to meet at twelve, right?"

    "Well, yeah. But I just couldn't wait!" She skipped over light pink pebbles, and Julian laughed.

    "Childish." He waited for her to come closer. Ruffling her hair once she did. Catherine frowned.

    "It's okay, Cath. You still look as fresh as lake water."

    She curtsied. "Thank you, kind Sir."

    And with that, they both laughed. The loud rumbles echoing throughout the whole lakefront. Julian gently placed his hands on her waist, while Catherine's rested above both his shoulders. They took light steps toward the center of the makeshift enchanted garden, then began to sway with the leaves.

    "You do know that we are quite inexperienced in terms of ballroom dancing." She said as they spun around. Julian chuckled. "Indeed. But then again, you still seem to like it. And I myself have to admit that ballroom dancing does seem quite fun."

    "So I thought, why not do this?" They paused, and he gestured toward the garden. "You like nature. So why not combine it with your favorite thing?"

    She smiled. "That's very thoughtful."

    Her eyes roamed the place, now paying attention to every small detail. Lanterns, flowers, and a clear lake almost like a mirror. She looked back at him. "Thank you, Julian."

    He held both her hands. Wanting to feel them. Wanting to feel her. A smile spread across his face once again. "Anytime, Cath."

    They twirled, and Julian pulled her close. Then closer. Until she was finally caught in his warm embrace.

    "I'm sorry, Cath. For everything…"

    She stayed still. Ears listening to the song of his heart, as her head rested above his chest. Dug, dug, dug, it went. Her eyes closed. Then after a few moments, opened again.

    "It's okay…" She replied. Wishing to console him. "It's okay…"

    His embrace tightened. "You don't know how much the guilt has been plaguing me. How I would often think of you, how I wished I had been nicer. I'm sorry, Catherine. I'm sorry…"

    Cath tilted her head upwards. And for the second time that night, met his dangerous eyes. At that moment, she had to admit: Julian was quite intimidating. For alas, he was once a naughty boy. Yet that didn't stop her from feeling the pull---the attraction. The strange feeling growing from within the deepest part of her heart. A feeling that has been bothering her ever since the end of last summer.

    "Do you know why I agreed to meet up with you despite knowing that you are some sick old douchebag?"

    "You aren't really that bad, Julian. At least for me."

    "Do you remember that time when I went back to the dormitory late? We had just come from a fight because you stole my homework. And I was really mad."

    Julian held a breath.

    "I saw what you did there. You knew I was a Math noob and just wanted to help. I saw the letter. You had placed it in the lowest drawer of my bedside table. It contained techniques."

    "I was then able to fix my trashy answers to that assignment because of you."

    Julian couldn't believe what he was hearing.

    Cath laughed. "You thought I wouldn't find it? Nice try."

    "And that time when Katie and her friends shoved my face in the locker? I understand why you yelled at me."

    "You called me a coward. It's true. But I yelled back because I didn't want to accept it."

    "But now, I know that I can't stay silent forever. Especially when looked down on by peers."

    She turned towards the lake. It's calm surface winking back at them. Like a push of encouragement. Cath released a breath. Carry on. She thought. You must tell him.

    "And then came that moment when my father called. Unnintentionally telling me how happy he was with his second family. You chose to sit with me. Watching, listening as I cried at the balcony."

    "And that was when I knew it: you are a good man, Julian. But is somehow just afraid to show it."

    She took a deep breath. Finally returning his embrace. "But I don't care about that. All I care about is that I know I love you."

    "I love you, Julian Hemsworth. For you are a gem hidden deep down a dark mine."

    "I love you, Julian."

    He froze. His heart racing fast. Is this true? He asked himself. But he knew it was.

    "Catherine." He whispered. Her name like the most delicate flower in the world. He lifted her chin, and their eyes met again. Slowly, he moved closer. Until their lips were just inches apart.

    "I love you too."

    He moved upward. Planting the kiss on her forehead. Catherine closed her eyes, and they stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Cath's heart fluttering, and Julian embracing the short happiness.

    "I'm sorry, Cath. I love you…"

    Catherine felt a force. Pushing her away from the man she loves. She looked at him, bewilderment painted on her features. Julian looked down, unable to face her. He clenched his fists.

    "I'm sorry, Cath."

    A sharp pain slashed throughout Catherine's body. She howled, and screamed as if she were burning. And she was. Her heart felt like it was being ripped into two.

    Tears began to flow from her eyes.


    She screamed his name, but she had already tumbled. Her hair danced as her body fell into the mirror like mouth of the lake. There, she sank deeper and deeper. Only the faint tint of moonlight across the surface serving as light. It was dark. She couldn't see Julian. But she could hear his cries of pain.

    "I'm sorry, Cath."

    "I love you."

    "But you have to return home."

    Her eyes began to close, and the last thing she saw was darkness.

    Meanwhile, Julian crumbled to the ground. His sobs reaching the farthest river. He didn't want to let her go. He loved her. So much.

    But it was unfair. Selfish even.

    He had brought her to his world. A World of Mirrors. An alternate world for deceivers like him.

    Just for the short hour, he wanted to tell her what he felt, and planned to send her back immediately.

    Soon, she will forget him. As she goes deeper into the Lake of Memories.

    She will forget him, and return to reality.

    Where he will no longer exist. He who was only a doppelganger of the real Julian Hemsworth.

    The real Julian Hemsworth... who died the first week of last summer.

    He sobbed harder. "I'm sorry, Cath."

    "I love you."

    "I really do."

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    Winner of Filipino Pencrafters'
    Valentines Themed Writing Contest.

  • moirahathena196 6w

    •late upload•

    #mirakee #writerstolli #shortstory #curse #town #fantasy #word21feb_wt

    Words used: Rawky, Blatherskite, Hwyl, Afreet, Obnubilate.

    . . .


    It was an hour past midnight, and the rawky streets of the once noisy town were empty. The darkness obnubilating any horrid scene. The moonlight only uncovering the white, cold fog. Celia stood amidst the small brick houses; eyes searching, dagger in hand.

    The wind blew past her. Warnings hidden not so deep in its whispers. Celia felt the hwyl. A yearning swimming it's way up to the surface. A yearning to end all night's terror. A yearning to stop the curse.

    "I call you!" She screamed, gripping her weapon tighter. Thunder roared up above: and the sky turned into a tint of bloody red.

    "Show yourself!"

    The leaves scattered. Celia could feel the strong presence of the entity she called, and planned to kill. But she knew, deep down that she would not succeed.

    She, a skilled warrior, will have to beg.


    Screams sounded not far away, and her heart trembled in fear. "Face me... and leave alone my people."

    The sounds stopped.

    She looked up at the sky, still of blood. Like it had always been since the previous year.

    A hole began to grow. Getting bigger and wider as each second passed. From within it, a black mist poured out. Swirling swiftly, and then stopped as it reached the ground.

    "Why, if it isn't Wenceslao's daughter."

    A deep, hellish laugh erupted from the creature. Celia's heart sped up. Her hand shaking as she raised the knife.

    "I-I know I can't kill you with this. But if you hurt me, or my people, I will be certain to try."

    The Afreet only smiled. "You are an amusing little maiden."

    She gritted her teeth, trying to restrain her anger. It was her only chance, and she couldn't take the risk of losing it.

    "On behalf of my father, I apologize for what he did to your daughter."

    "No one deserves to die in such a painful way. A-And I understand what it feels like to be cast out by the man you love---"

    She couldn't finish, for the Afreet began to swirl around her. Fast, like a tornado wanting to tear it's victim into shreds. He rose, hovering above her. Revealing his smokey face. With features barely even recognizable.

    "You? You understand? No one! No one understands my daughter and the pain brought by the love she felt for your father! You all despise her. You think I don't know that?"

    Celia forced her lips to stay still. Standing straight, she dared to look at his eyes. Orbs blazing with anger, sorrow, and hatred.

    For a while, she felt ashamed. Useless. For she knew herself that she too, despised Almira. The curse she casted upon the town was unforgivable to the heart. Celia hated it. She hated seeing all her dear ones suffer each and every night without rest.

    "Please... I'm begging you."

    She knew there was no stopping the demons. Yet she still begged.

    "Have mercy..."

    The Afreet stared, and he couldn't help but notice her eyes: a tender, yet strong brown just like his daughter's. He stayed there. Silent. Meeting her orbs.

    "The heir of realm and light..."

    Celia thought the statement a product of a blatherskite. Yet it managed to ignite the hope from within every part of her soul.

    "The heir of realm and light." She muttered. "The heir of realm---"

    "Goodbye, Celia."

    The blade fleetly made its way through her back, digging deep into her flesh. It pushed, and blood oozed from her chest. The dagger slowly fell from her hand, as her body crumbled to the ground. Pure shock, and failure, was evident in her face. Eyes still wide open as she took her final breath.

    The Afreet faced his swordsman. "Excellent job,
    Kairos. The next kill is yours."

    His eyes met the faraway forest. Worry and bickering echoing from it's center. He smiled, and turned back to Celia. Dead on the ground.

    "Don't worry, young miss. I'll make sure that some of your people survive."

    "But they will never be able to leave the town. Nor find out about how to end the curse."

    He bent over, whispering in her ear. "That secret remains only between the both of us."

    He slowly began to ascend. Back to the red sky, to the hellish world where he came from.

    "Their descendants will be trapped here forever."

    "And there will be no chance." He laughed. "No chance of them ending the curse that my daughter has placed upon you all."

    The sky gave one last roar as screams once again began to erupt from the woods.

    The Afreet laughed again. A smile forming on his ghostly lips. "Your town will be restless!" He yelled.

    And with that, he disappeared. Never seen again.

    But the curse still lingers in the town of Don Alfaro. Where his subjects still remain.

    To wreak havoc and claim lives. Every night, without rest.

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