PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

It takes a good deal of focus to be able to perform magic under such close scrutiny. That could be why it goes so horribly wrong.


Thinking that you might be able to conjure some replacements for the pieces Dina described, you drop to your knees and get ready to connect your hands with the earth—only, in your excitement, you forget to play it cool. You practically drop like lead, and Dina whips her head around in shock.


"Are you all right?" she asks with concern. Swallowing quickly, you try to think on your feet—uh, knees.


"Oh, yeah…just thought I…saw something."


"On the ground?" Dina comes a little closer, peering down at the spot you're kneeling on. Barely daring to breathe, you decide to make a show of fishing about in the grass.


"Gosh, I could've sworn I saw something—wait, what's that?!"


In sheer desperation, you point at some random spot on the ground and quickly close your eyes, desperately trying to summon enough energy to conjure something while Dina is distracted. The only problem is that in the time it takes Dina to glance about ten feet away in the grass, you haven't managed to focus quite enough to convince the magnitude of the earth's magical power that what it really needs to do right now is drop a bunch of sticks into your hands. Instead, with a half-hearted tingle in your fingers, you draw just enough energy from your magic to conjure what feels like a single twig before the magic sort of curdles. Opening your eyes, however, you realize with a sinking in your stomach that even a twig would have been better than this.


When Dina turns back to you with a confused frown, only to find you holding what appears to be a limp stalk of straw, she looks less than impressed. In fact, from the way she purses her lips, you're struck with the withering realization that she thinks you're trying to be funny.


Saying nothing, she simply turns her attention back to the sculpture. After a few moments of failing to sink into the earth where you hoped you might turn to dust, you have no choice but to stand up, casually brush the dirt off your knees, and start walking in a pin-straight line back along the path towards the entrance. You don't dare give the sculpture another glance as you go, and there's some part of you that hopes you'll never have to see it again as long as you're in town. Maybe you'll just avoid the park for the next few years.


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