If you're like me, whether it be ADHD or other things, stories will come to you and you can never find a time or place for, sooo...I'm making this thread just so I, and others, can enjoy some fun tales. 

And now I ask you, please, Tell me a story. 

This is Technically horror but it is not very scary. (i wrote it for 6th graders) 

Dawson tripped over a tree root. “Are You Okay Dawson.” Dawson's friend Colby was with him. “Yeah. see anything.” “Nope.” Their camping trip was not going well. It had been nine days and they hadn't even seen a bunny. They trudged through the mud with soggy clothes and a broken tent. Colby's dad was supposed to pick them up today. They had started back to the truck four days ago. Their tent broke yesterday.

“How long do you think it will take for your dad to find... crack hey look.” “We found one.” Out of the brush stepped a deer. “I love deer. I'm gonna go get my dad.” He started but stopped, something felt eerie about it.

He kept going but a projectile was spiraling through the sky straight towards him. When it got close enough he realized it was the truck. “Colby, look out. It's the truck.”

“Huh, where.”

“In the sky! Run!” Colby looked up and jumped to his feet. He dodged out of the way. Then an earth shattering roar came from the foliage just as the truck smashed into the earth. Out of the trees charged a beastly mixture of a dragon, scorpion, and octopus with tentacles for teeth with needle-like daggers protruding out. Running the boys stumbled down a hillside into a small town.

“Here, get inside.” The floorboards creaked but they kept running. They almost got to the stairs, but the floor burst with splitters flying everywhere. Dawson kept running. “Help, I'm stuck.” Dawson turned around. Colby's foot was lodged into the floorboards. Dawson ran back but Colby wouldn't budge. Dawson stomped on the floor. It creaked and groaned. “You're going to bring the floor down.”

“Exactly.” The floor gave way and crashed onto the basement floor.

Across the entire floor were eggs and people encased in shell shapes. There were baby monsters, some with tentacles and some with fur and some with scales. The shells with people would fade and look like a real egg and then hatch and a monster would come out. In the corner of the basement was a person. Don't let them bite you, he said. Then one of the babies came over, unhinged its jaws and clamped them onto him. A slime poured from the bite along with blood. A shell slowly rose around him and he didn't fight it. It surrounded him and he slowly faded away as the shell gained color. A Few moments later the shell cracked. Out came a snake, bear, plant monster. “They bite you and turn you into monsters,” screamed Colby.

“Run!” They ran as fast as they could but it seemed that the monsters were faster. They scrambled up the stairs and into the living room with the missing floor. Behind them was the baby monsters to their left was a staircase leading upstairs. To their right was a solid brick wall and in front of them, was the largest monster. The babies were scrambling up the stairs. The monster was standing there waiting. It seemed that the only three options were to go upstairs and postpone their defeat, face it, or someone would have to stay as a distraction. It seemed Colby reached that conclusion before Dawson and had launched himself to the right and crashed against the brick wall. The monster leaped over to the right in pursuit. “Run Dawson. run now.” Colby broke the window. “I will get out through the window. you take the front door.” Dawson trusted Colby but didn't believe he could make it. He hesitated but jumped the divide on the floor. He made it narrowly missing a baby monster's fangs. In Dawson's absence the monster must have taken Colby or he had leaped out the window because he could not see him.

Dawson burst out of the front door and into the pitch black night. He dashed to the side of the house and discovered Colby. He was safe. He ran toward him and then he noticed the ever so slow liquid forming a shell around him. Dawson stopped. “I told you to run but you hesitated. Why?” before Dawson could answer the liquid had enveloped him and the shell hardened. Soon Colby would be one of them. Dawson ran tears streaming down his face. He heard Colbys shell burst open behind him but he didn't look back, he wouldn't.

He raced into an old hotel up to the top balcony. He barricaded the door and looked over at the town. At the entrance of the town he saw Colby's dad. Colby's dad hadn't been in the truck. He yelled to him “look out there are monsters everywhere.” Colby's dad looked up and saw him. “Don't worry I will get you down.” Dawson was confused. He could get down by himself, soon Colby's dad was out of view, walking away from him. Then he could hear the baby monsters trying to break through the barrier. “I'm trapped.” He looked down. He could jump from balcony to balcony and he might have a sliver of a chance of escaping. He began his descent down the wall of the hotel. Left right left he stumbled only twice. When he reached the bottom, the monsters tore out of the door at the top. Dawson ran behind the building, but two monsters on each side came at him. He jumped and grabbed the lowest balcony as fast as he could, Instead, he slipped and plummeted down into the gaping jaws of the monster below. In the forest stood two monsters, the largest and a smaller one. They slowly morphed back to people and took the shape of Colby and his father. “We have gained many servants because of you. Good job son, good job.” Then Dawson’s blood curdling scream rang out from the small town below. 

You’re my new favorite person. I have a story I’ve started, but it’s not edited so I’ll just attach the first chapter. Btw a cecaelia is a half human-half octopus person. Like a mermaid except an octopus. If you have any questions or would like more of the story just tell me, and I’ll be happy to answer them or continue sending story bits.

Chapter 1

It was mid-May when the letter was sent. It was June before they were required to arrive. It would be July when they started to be sent home, and it would be August when he had to choose. The wedding would be in September, and the honeymoon would happen in November. It was a perfectly timed out plan, but you know life, when something seems perfect, it always has to throw a curveball at you.

“On behalf of her royal highness, Queen Ariel, and his royal majesty, King Eric, you have been selected to—Blah, blah, blah. I still can’t believe some pompous royals are insisting that you go and try to court their son for 3 months!” Meliorodia complained, her navy tail lashing out behind her.

“Meli, I’ll be fine. You know how I am, I’ll probably be the first one sent home. Besides, I get to live in luxury for a month. How bad can it be?” Cecelia jokes, putting on a calm face for her little sister. “You're just lucky you were born early, otherwise you would have to deal with me and a bunch of pompous mermaids. I think that they’re going to be the worst part.” Meliorodia huffs and storms off, clearly sensing she won’t get any actual feelings out of her half-sister.

“Thank god she left,” Cecelia sighs, sinking down to the floor of her bedroom, “I don’t think I could have joked about that much longer.” Cecelia massages her temple, before deciding she can’t take her crowded room that won’t be hers much longer. As a cecaelia, the moment that she turns 18, she will be expected to go on an adventure to explore new places for at least a year, before she will even be accepted back in her hometown. Cecelia propels herself out through the open window and into the ocean, hoping to get away to a place where she can actually just be a cecaelia without the jerky sirens she goes to school with being rude. Cecelia used to live in a town full of cecaelia, with her late mother, the Sea Witch, but after her mother passed there was no reason for Cecelia to keep living there.

So she had moved to an all-siren town and moved in with her dad. Kairial had married again, this time to a siren, like him. Meliorodia had been born, and the four of them had been living together for the past 13 years.

Cecelia swims past the reef barring the village from the harsh tidal waves, and as soon as she does, purple tendrils of magic creep around her, attracting some nearby fish. She switches to her cecaelia form for the first time in weeks, and nearly sighs in relief. Cecelia’s navy waves melt into a softer purple color, reminiscent of the sky near dawn. Her black tentacles spread out as she jets across the water, desperate to get away. After stretching her limbs for a long while, Cecelia settles down onto a rock, admiring the pretty fish that dart through the water. She’s so caught up in the fish ballet that she doesn’t even realize the merman beside her until he speaks.

“Do you come here often?” A voice comes from behind, startling Cecelia out of her daze. She whirls around towards the voice, her lavender hair fanning out behind her. The voice came from a tanned merman with curling hair the color of raven’s feathers and eyes of the deep blue sea. His dark green tail was resting gracefully on a growth of coral nearby, and his eyes started to glitter when he smiled at her. Cecelia gives him a polite smile back, and replies: “Yes, but I hardly think it’s any of your business, mermaid.” The merman laughs quietly, and Cecelia startles. “Whaaaaaaaat?” She drawls, clearly unimpressed by the merman.

“Most princesses like you don’t care enough to actually respond, much less say something knowledgeable. I’ve never met a princess that liked to think before.” His voice is light and playful, but somehow it still seems like he’s challenging her. Cecelia narrows her eyes and examines this strange merman. The beautifully designed tattoos covering his arms matched his ocean-blue crystal earrings, and both of them add to his disheveled charm.

“Wow, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. Cecaelia don't have royal families, much less princesses. And here I was starting to believe you were actually smarter than the average idiot. But I guess you’re just like every other siren I know, except you’re a merman, which makes you ten times worse.” She snaps back. The merman doesn’t flinch, and the serene expression on his face doesn’t even change, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt by her comment. He flicks his tail and swims a bit closer to her. Cecelia crosses her arms and cocks an eyebrow at him.

“You certainly do look like one. Has it ever crossed your mind that not everyone is blessed with grace like yours? And of course, not all cecaelia have such patience with fish. But there you are, watching them as if they’re the most fascinating creatures on the planet.” He doesn’t waste a second in replying and smiles irritatingly at her, the corners of his mouth reaching up to the scar marring his otherwise perfect face.

“You’re just jealous that I’m not looking at you that way,” She says without thinking. The merman looks in surprise at her, and she realizes what she inferred. A blush spreads over her face and she covers her mouth. The merman laughs again, and swishes his tail.

“That’s alright, I know exactly what you meant.” He teases. “I’m Astro, by the way. And now I know for sure that you aren’t a princess.” His deep blue eyes seem to be laughing at her surprise. Cecelia, catching on, puts a hand on her hip and smirks at him. “I wonder what could’ve possibly given it away…?” She sarcastically askes. Astro smiles and replies:

“First of all, you didn’t introduce yourself the second after I told you my name. Second, I got a closer look at your hair and it’s painfully unadorned. Third, you’re not at all agreeable. And there’s also the fact that you told me you’re a cecaelia. Must I go on?” Cecelia swallows down her amusement at this ridiculous merman, and refocuses her eyes on him. “Oh, yes, please, your highness. Continue enlightening me on what I already told you.” She shoots back. “Besides, you can’t even be talking. I’m not stupid. Even I’ve heard rumors about the mysterious sea prince who has tattoos and spends his days torturing poor unfortunate souls.”

Astro freezes for a moment, then tries to cover it up with a laugh, “Awwww, I’m honored. You’ve been thinking about me.” Cecelia narrows her eyes at his momentary paralysis, and is about to say something when a bird comes barreling through the water.

“Cecelia? Where are you? I know you’re desperate to escape your future as a potential bride, but come on!” Cecelia hears the voice and nearly rolls her eyes out of her head. Astro snorts when he hears her name.

“Cecelia the cecaelia. Was that a coincidence?” Astro asks questioningly, and Cecelia blushes when he says her name but replies nonetheless.

“Wow, figured that out all on your own, did you now? Is this where I’m supposed to fall into your arms, impressed by your cleverness?” Hearing her name called by her lifelong friend has snapped some sense into her, and Cecelia is questioning why in the world she is wasting her time on some insufferable mermaid jerk, when all they’re good for is breaking hearts. With her tone finally changing away from joking and into sharp, Cecelia turns away and jets off towards the bird.

Astro stares after her for a while, wondering what he could have possibly done this time. It’s not often he actually tries to make friends, but this one time he thought maybe. He had been having fun bantering with this mysterious girl, but she had been right. He kind of had been waiting for her to fall right into his arms. Besides, what had that bird meant about Cecelia being a potential bride? Astro wanted to blame the bird for ruining the moment, but he sensed it went deeper than that. That Cecelia had experienced something that made her especially anti-mermaid. It hardly mattered anyway, not when Astro had so many duties to attend to, and the girl had already made her feelings on him very clear. That didn’t help Astro from thinking of her as a potential challenge, someone whose code he wanted to crack, as he swam home, towards the stilted life he had always known.

Sorry it’s so long…

Both of these stories are incredible! Thank y'all so much for sharing!

If you want more of my story I’d be happy to share it. It just happens to be a little bit long…

Do you have any stories to share?

I had an idea a while back for a short story I was gonna write. Tried a few paragraphs, but ended up getting bored and stopped. The idea is that as Reeves’ escape plays out, the song follows suit.

That’s really good/cool! I’d say write more but if you’re not interested then don’t.

Sonati there was a beautiful woman named Alatana, who was very much loved by her House. She was born into a wagon during the Bleak Journey, and it is upon that bitter road that she took her first breath and took her first suckle.

Alatana was of the House Kandela, a rare and precious gift during the great sorrow, when food and water were scarce and danger plunged form the sky and the heat was great, but she grew lithe and fair, and brought joy to many with her beauty and her song and her dance. She was sharp of wit and kind of heart, and when she reached her youthood she would run back and forth along the miles of the great migration and offer help and hope to people long without, sharing news and word of others, carrying messages and tidings and rhymes and verse wherever she went.

But the true story of Alatana begins when she made a friend.

Scouts had found a small, clear pool, and around it grew trees which bore fruit, and within it swam fish, and around it sang birds. It was beautiful and serene a space, and the desperate people of the road trampled the soft grass and drained much of the clear pool, fouling it, and took many of the fish, and claimed all of the fruit, and spoke no word of gratitude or kindness, bespoke no blessing of fortune or invocation of fair chance.

For in those days, people had not learned yet of the Spirits in the World. They did not see that this was a home of a Spirit, did not know that this was a sacred place. And so they angered that spirit, who lay in wait for the unwary.

And along came the greatest beauty of her time, innocent and sweet, young and with great promise, and she took a small viol with her, clumsily made and barely tuned, almost a toy and nothing like the well made instruments we have today. Setting herself upon soft grass in the late shade of an Ash canopy, she did not see the wicked and cunning strike that wa being aimed at her, that would surely have killed her, that would have robbed the world of joy and light during the darkest of times over the miserable desperation and wretched ingratitude of those who had been forgotten by what they still called Gods in those days, and that now, in memory, we only call the Powers That Be.

But she sang a note, and drew her bow across the strings, and then sang another note, and so began to play music that had rarely been heard since the end of the war, and never before had anyone sung quite as she did, that day into dusk beneath an ash tree with naught but a half broken viol and a heart full of joy.

And that stopped the Spirit and entranced it, for the Spirit had long waited without knowing that this was something it sought, something new to it, something wonderful and precarious and special because it came from her, and there was something about her that drew the spirit to her -- but quietly, secretly, hidden and unknown, and she played on and as she did so the spirit was moved to give her something, something she didn't even realize she had been given, but in doing so it filled her with an awareness of what had happened.

And as she sang, her song turned angry, and then sad, and then hopeful and then determined and then she began to sing of the trampled grass -- and it grew stronger and glistened as the last of the sun slunk away and the first of the early stars twinkled and Coyola shone brightly upon the small garden. She sang of the fruits that had faded and lo, new blooms appeared and fruits sprouted. She sang of clear and cool water, and the water clouded and then cleared, and the minnows grew. She sang of the birds and the frogs and the  silly little bees in the hive tucked away in a tree, and honey flowed freely and birds chirped a lullaby and frogs kept a beat, and and she sang of hardship and horror, of of struggle and desperation, of the heartaches and griefs of the migration, of the love of her family and her House, and still the spirit stayed with her, and in that moment, a bond was formed that changed the world.

For the Spirit was a Muse, and her windy whispers and gentle nature would, ever after, give to Alatana strange and miraculous magics -- the ability to charm a listener, to help others in need, to lift the spirits of the hopeless and to drive the fear away with courage against the terrible.

That was the day that the first Bard was born. Man will perform songs and dances and juggle and entertain, but only a few can ever gain the favor -- and so the power -- of the Spirits of the World known as Muses, the only price being that they can never been seen by their Bard, and known for what they are.

Alatana accomplished many deeds in her life after that. She is said to have turned back the fires of a Dragon, to have driven back a group of raiding animal people, to have eased births and above all else to have made it possible to endure the ever present hardship of that century of movement.

She was the oldest of the many who finally emerged into the Garden of Delights, and it is there that she passed, and all that lived mourned her her and buried her there, beside another pool, beneath anther ash tree, where the birds sing and the wind was said to sob. A month later, they left the Garden of Delights, and continued intot he green forest and through it and soon they came to the shore where they would found and build Sibola, the first City. 

Even today, at the foot of the oldest part of the Emperor's Palace, a worn stone rests, marked upon it in a simple way with the name of Alatana Kandela, the mother of Sibola, for whom the great city was named, and the wife of the first King, Ushe Sher, but above all of that, the heart and the light that kept the people going along the worst event in all of history.

For those few brave souls who still try to find the Garden of Delights, when they come upon her marker there, they all swear that they can still hear the sobbing and the grief of the wind and the water, and those who dare disturb so much as a blade of grass vanish, never to be seen again.

Alright, Challenge Accepted Mate!

In the Kingdom of Giln, a millennia ago, there lived a guard in a tower. His life wasn’t anything special. He watched over the vast expanses of the land, often quite bored and depressed, wishing his life could be more.

It was late at night and the full moon rose high into the sky, it was quite brisk with a powerful breeze. The guard took to the tower’s interior for shelter when suddenly, there was a pound on the door and a voice cried “Lo, the king wants all guards at his throne side this night, for rumors of rebellion go throughout the town.” The guard got up and took heed to this call, mayhaps this will be the fulfillment he’d been desiring for so long. He flew out the door and rushed to the main gate with the wind at his back giving him newfound speed.

He entered the throne room and there sat the old king with his crown slightly tattered and no heir to his name. At his side were many guards, some could say one-hundred some would say more. The veterans stood close to the king, while the newest and most inexperienced were to stand in the front. Our guard was guided to a place somewhere in the middle. Hours passed as the guards stood there, bored and tired. Conversation began amongst them and they chuckled and played little games, even the veterans partook in the fun, but not our guard. Despite his boredom he stood fast, he was mocked and ridiculed by others, but he paid them no mind. He was used to being bored.

Just like one would expect, when the guards were at their most inattentive, the assassins struck. First, arrows rained from above, those who took off their armor fell, including all the veterans who thought their mere presence would scare off any treasonous foes. This broke the spirits of many as some began to flee for their lives. Our guard, though, ran to the king and beheaded an assassin just as the assassin was about to make the killing blow. He then raised his shield and blocked many arrows. The king thanked him as many more killers made the approach, our guard chopped them down one after the other until all twenty-three were dead.

The throne room was now devoid of all life save our guard and the king. All others had fled, or died an agonizing death from the assassin’s poison. The king was thoroughly impressed with our guard’s bravery and decided to reward him with the highest possible honor. The very next day, our guard was given a coronation and became the new king of the land. He held his sword high but just as he was about to proclaim a victorious shout, he found himself in a dimly lit room.

There he sat on a chair, still in his armor, it was all just a dream. The guard gave a sigh and went back to sleep to see if he could finish the dream.

The End

Here's a short story I wrote. Its not very good, but here it goes:

There it was, finally. Our island. Our very own island. It looked beautiful above the waves of fog, but there was still one question to be answered: why had they sold it to us for only five dollars? 

Carl said it was cursed. I thought he was nuts, maybe even more so than the elderly couple who sold us the island for such a low price. 

There was no curse on the island, it was perfect. And it was ours.

The island looked even more beautiful than before as we began to pull our small boat up onto the sandy shores. I had expected to hear seabirds, but all that reached my ears was the steady crashing waves of the pacific ocean. There was a rhythm here, and it was strong. It was apparent in not just the waves, but also in the great pines that covered the hills here, in the dark gray clouds that slid across the sky, and in the trickling rain that fell from the air like the tears of a somber god.

We secured our boat with ropes to make sure it would not blow away in the wind and headed on towards the center of the island. I began to notice as me and Carl walked through the dense forest that there were no animals here. I found it surprising that in such a wet and green environment that no creatures lived here, for I had yet to see even an insect. 

An hour later we had reached the center of the island, according to the map that we had been given when we purchased the island. What surprised us when we reached the center was that we found a structure. The structure was a gazebo of sorts, composed of four stone pillars with a slanted pyramid roof. Carved on almost every surface was a collection of odd symbols. Physically, there was nothing wrong with it. But something felt wrong, as if this mundane structure was attacking my subconscious. 

We had been told the island was uninhabited. Nobody lived there or had ever lived there in all of humanity’s existance, according to all records of the island’s history. But if nobody had ever lived on the island, how had the gazebo gotten there? 

We began to discuss this topic when suddenly the sky darkened to a deathly shade of black and began to let down torrents of rain that were much stronger than the trickles we had faced during our past hour on the island. The rain was like needles, tearing leaves from limbs. It was almost as if some force, some energy, some being, wanted us to stay in the gazebo. And we did.

Three hours passed and eventually Carl and I decided to lay down and sleep on the gazebo’s stone floor. It took a while for sleep to finally set over us, but when it did, it was much appreciated.

Then the dreams came. I was in an endless maze of dark purple trees, running from something. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there. I felt a bit of relief as the realization came over me that I had outran it. Suddenly it leaped from a bush and tackled me, allowing me to see it for the first time. It had the size and body shape of a large dog, but it had no fur. Its skin was a mucusy mauve, and its tail was a writhing tentacle. Its head, though, was the worst of all. For where the head of a dog should have been there was a giant purple octopus. I fell back as its claws dug into my flesh. I tried to lash out with my legs, but the tentacle-tail wrapped around my ankles. It opened its octopus beak and bit down into my skull, crushing my forehead. Warm blood poured out of my head and into my eyes and mouth as the monstrosity devoured my brain. 

And then I woke up.

I, now out of the realm of nightmares, stumbled to my feet. Something was definitely wrong with one of us, I could feel it. I touched my face and felt normal skin, damp from the island’s mist. I wasn’t what was wrong, it must be something else. Carl! I turned to Carl and saw him lying pitifully on the ground. Around him were puddles of rancid vomit, containing blood. We had to get off of this island. I pulled Carl into my arms and fled the gazebo, not even bothering to gather our stuff. Then he spoke to me.

“It awakens”

“What?”

“The great one, the ruler of world beyond”

“Carl, we don’t have time for this. We need to get you out of here”

“No, leave me. It has called to me. I have been chosen”

“I knew there was something wrong with that gazebo”

“That was not a normal gazebo, but a sacred place for The Calling”

Carl continued jabbering about how he had been called by “it”, some sort of being from another world. As we continued towards the boat, our only way off the island, his voice became deep and sinister. 

“IT IS TIME FOR THE FINAL PART OF THE CALLING. I WARNED YOU TO LEAVE ME HERE AND FLEE BY YOURSELF, BUT YOU DID NOT OBEY. AND NOW I MUST KILL YOU IN THE NAME OF THE GREAT ONE, THE TRUE ONE, THE GREATEST EXTRATERRESTRIAL ENTITY THAT EARTH HAS EVER SEEN, THE ALIEN QUEEN OF ALL EVIL!”

I dropped his body with fear and took a step back. Suddenly, his body began to change. His skin peeled away, revealing a new skin, one of mucusy mauve. His head began to bend and reshape itself, becoming that of an octopus. And finally, to finish off my friend’s transformation into the gruesome monster of my nightmare, he sprouted forth a tentacle-like tail.

I screamed and ran. There was no way I could make it to the boat in time, but I wasn’t going to surrender my life to this alien Carl until I had at least attempted to survive.  My legs carried me at top speed through the woods. Even though I was managing to outrun Carl, his aberrant energy still messed with my senses. The harder I ran, the more his energy hurt me. It messed with my eyes, casting a purple tint on everything, and it messed with my nerves, causing me to feel needle-like sensations whenever my feet touched the ground. I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t last any longer. I fell to the ground, giving up any hope of ever leaving this cursed island.

Carl’s claws ripped through my flesh, scraping the bones beneath. I gasped for air as the pain overwhelmed my body. I felt his cold, strong tentacles sucker onto the skin of my face, holding it in place for the last part of his evil plot. I see his sharp-edged beak open up and plunge down towards my forehead. His beak ripped away the front of my skull, like how you would pull the shell off of an oyster before eating its gooey insides. My consciousness quickly fades to black as Carl devours my brain. I have one last thought before my death:

At least I now know why they wanted to sell the island so badly.

Here's a little story written by one of my characters towards the end of a campaign:

On a seldom-used road in a dense forest, a vine of thorns has blocked the path of several adventurers.

"How to deal with this problem?", asks the druid.

"We should angrily cut them down!", proclaims the mighty dwarf, brandishing an axe.

"Perhaps we could tread carefully over them?", replies the skillful ranger, eyes watchful.

"Might as well just turn round and go the other way.", is the cunning goblin's answer.

"Bolts of fire will burn it all away!", laughs the eager mage, wand in hand.

"I'm quite fine with whatever you folks decide.", says the amicable halfling.

"It seems that now the obstacle has become the path.", comments the erudite wizard.

This discussion goes on for much longer that seems necessary for such a simple task.

As they debate, the druid smiles and gently guides the vines to the side of the path, clearing the road and creating a natural fence.

"Onward, friends! No challenge can delay us for long, and together, nothing can stand in our way!"

The group continues on their journey along the forest road.

After a few moments of silence, someone adds, "If anything does stand in our way there's always the portable ram."

Loki, the powerful and mischievous elf, was wandering through the dense forest just West of the Garden of Astraea when he stumbled upon a young and aspiring mage named Matthew.

"Who goes there?" Matthew called out, his voice trembling with fear.

"It is I, Loki, master of elemental magic" the elf replied, stepping out from behind a tree and revealing himself to the young mage.

Matthew was awestruck. He had heard stories of Loki and his incredible magical abilities, but he had never expected to meet him in person.

"Wh-what do you want with me?" Matthew stammered, still unsure of what to make of the situation.

"I have been watching you, young mage," Loki replied. "And I your future. Your father didn't teach you so I shall!"

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise. "My future? What do you mean?" he asked, intrigued by what the elf had to say.

Loki smiled mischievously. "I mean that you have great potential, young mage. You have a natural gift for magic, but there is much that you still have to learn. That's where I come in."

Matthew was both excited and nervous. He had always dreamed of becoming a powerful mage, but he had never imagined that he would receive training from the legendary Loki himself. He had ran away from home for this. He had no home to go back to. What could he lose?

"What do you want me to do?" he asked eagerly.

Loki gestured for Matthew to follow him deeper into the forest. "Come with me, and I will show you the ways of magic," he said, his voice echoing through the trees.

Matthew hesitated for a moment, but the prospect of learning from one of the greatest mages in all the land was too great to resist. With a deep breath, he followed Loki into the heart of the forest, eager to begin his training. They walked for a while, until they reached what looked like a treehouse. Loki gestured towards the treehouse and said, "This will be your new home, Matthew. You will live here while I teach you the ways of magic." 

Matthew looked at the treehouse in amazement. It was a small, but cozy place with a bed, a table, and a few chairs. "Thank you, Loki. I am honored to be your student," he said with gratitude. 

Loki smiled. "The honor is mine. Now, let us begin your training." 

For the next few weeks, Loki taught Matthew everything he knew about elemental magic. Matthew was a quick learner and soon began to master the basics. He learned how to summon fire, control water, and create gusts of wind. Loki was impressed by his progress and decided to teach him some advanced techniques. 

One day, Loki took Matthew to a secluded clearing in the forest. "Today, I will teach you how to harness the power of lightning," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 

Matthew looked at him nervously. "Lightning? But that's dangerous, isn't it?" 

Loki nodded. "Yes, it is. But with great power comes great responsibility. You must learn to control the lightning or it will control you." 

Matthew took a deep breath and focused his mind. He closed his eyes and extended his hands towards the sky. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot out from his fingertips, illuminating the entire clearing. Loki watched in amazement as Matthew continued to summon lightning bolts, each one more powerful than the last. "You are a natural, Matthew. You have the potential to become one of the greatest mages in all the land." 

Matthew beamed with pride. "Thank you, Loki. I could not have done it without your guidance." 

Loki smiled. "You have come a long way, my young apprentice. But your training is not yet complete. There is still much for you to learn." Matthew nodded. As the sun set, the two made there way back to Loki's treehouse.   There was a painting of Loki and three other elfs on the wall above the small fireplace, Matthew always liked to look at it and wonder who the other elfs were. "Loki?" 

"Yes?" Loki replied, looking up from a scroll he was reading

"who are these elfs?" Matthew pointed to the painting

Loki's face droppped, "Oh, right. Those are my parents and little sister Jonalyn." 

Matthew's heart sank as he noticed the sadness in Loki's voice. "I'm sorry, Loki. I didn't mean to bring up any painful memories," he said softly. "It's okay, Matthew. You have a right to know about my past," replied Loki, his eyes misty. "My parents and sister were killed by fire when I was about 20, I was the only survivor." 

Matthew could sense the pain  in Loki's voice. "I'm sorry for your loss, Loki. But I'm also grateful for everything you're doing to help me and others like me." 

Loki smiled warmly. "Thank you, Matthew. You remind me of myself when I was your age, eager to learn and determined to make a difference. I have no doubt that you will go on to do great things." 

They sat in silence for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts. The crackling of the fire and the chirping of crickets outside provided a peaceful backdrop. Finally, Loki spoke up. "It's getting late. You should get some rest. We have a long day of training ahead of us tomorrow." 

Matthew nodded and stood up. "Goodnight, Loki. And thank you." 

"Goodnight, Matthew. Sleep well." 

As Matthew layed in bed he couldn't stop himself from thinking about his parents, "they are dead." he scolded himself. 

Matthew drifted into sleep, a tear rolling down his cheek. The next morning, Matthew woke to Loki stareing at him. Matthew jumped, rolling onto the floor, "Jeez! I thought elfs weren't supposed to be creepy!"

Loki chuckled. "Sorry about that, Matthew. I didn't mean to startle you." 

Matthew rubbed his eyes and sat up. "It's alright. I'm just not used to waking up with an elf staring at me." 

Loki grinned. "Fair enough. Are you ready for another day of training?" 

Matthew nodded, feeling determined. "Yes, I am. I want to learn as much as I can." "Good," said Loki. "Today, we will focus on telekinesis. Are you familiar with it?" 

Matthew shook his head. "Not really." 

"Telekinesis is the ability to move objects with your mind," explained Loki. "It's a very useful skill for a mage to have." 

Matthew's eyes widened with excitement. "That sounds amazing. Can you teach me?" Loki nodded. "Of course. But first, we need to meditate to clear our minds." 

They sat cross-legged on the floor and closed their eyes. Loki guided Matthew through a series of breathing exercises and visualization techniques. Slowly, Matthew felt his mind quieting down and his body relaxing. "Now, focus on the book on the shelf across the room," said Loki. "Visualize it moving towards you." 

Matthew concentrated and imagined the book levitating off the shelf and flying towards him. To his amazement, the book moved! He gasped in surprise and excitement. "I did it! I moved the book with my mind!" 

Loki smiled. "Well done, Matthew. That was a very impressive first attempt. With practice, you will be able to move much heavier objects.”

“Heavier? Like what?” Matthew asked, looking at Loki, and the book dropped to the floor. The book made a thump, Loki and Matthew’s heads turned. “Oh, shoot.” Matthew muders. Loki snickers, and with a flicker of his hand the book went back to it’s place. Matthew’s mouth dropped, “H-how?” 

“I told you before, with great power comes great responsibility. You one day will be like me. Powerful. Able to do magic without a second thought.” Loki explained, a tricky grin on his face.

“And you’ll help me get there?” Mathew asked

“Why would I be here?” 

These are all wonderful pieces of work! I forgot to check this thread for a while and I was met with plethora of beautiful responses, thank you all for sharing!