Mischief and Magic

 “Fighting monsters, stealing treasures, and claiming victory with style—because Liora never loses!"

I slam my boot down on a chirping mushroom. Puff! A cloud of spores bursts out as it shrivels into goo. One down. A dozen to go.

A flick of my wrist—shing!—dagger flies, bullseye! Another mushy menace bites the dust.

The rest huddle together, their squeaky voices rising into an ear-splitting chant.

I snap my fingers and sling "Al Ka Rath Beth!" at them. Flames whoosh! through the clearing. Screams turn to fwoomphs! as the mushrooms burn to a crisp.

Crisis averted. Time for treasure.

My eyes land on a crooked old shack just past the trees.
"Hey, isn’t this where Old Jason lived? They say he hoarded gold coins. And a huge ruby."

My stomach tightens. My fingers twitch. My mouth... definitely not watering.

Alright, maybe a little.

But a girl’s gotta have goals.

I dash toward the shack, leaping over the wooden fence like a champion. It creaks under my weight, but I’m already onto the next step—breaking in.

Locked door? No problem. I grab a rock and—CRASH!—window’s open. See? Easy.

I slip inside, landing light on my feet. Dust swirls in the air—cough cough.

Cobwebs hang from the rafters, but there, glinting in the dim light—a chest!

Jackpot.

I creep forward, heart pounding with the thrill of the steal. Fingers brushing the latch, I whisper, "Come..."

CREAK.

I freeze.

Behind me, a shadow looms.

“You rotten little gremlin!”

Uh-oh.

Old Jason—wrinkled, furious, and wielding a mean-looking cane—lunges.

Time to go.

I snatch a handful of coins and bolt. Jason swings—WHACK! Just misses my head. I dive through the broken window, tuck, roll, and—

"HAH! Liora wins again!"

THUNK.

Sharp pain on my rear. I yelp.

He threw the cane at me.

Okay. Maybe not entirely a win.

I dash away, laughing, emboldened by my success!

I kick a pear tree. A dozen juicy fruits plummet to the ground with satisfying thuds.

“Hm. Juicy.”

I take another one.

“Crunchy.”

And another one.

"Ugh, worm. Yuck.”

I toss it aside and stroll to the nearby waterfall. The water is cool, the rocks slippery, but I’m in no rush. I sink into the hot springs, letting the heat wrap around me like a comforting blanket.

“Fresh fall and hot springs... this place is perfect.” I mumble, stretching out and yawning. I lie back letting myself sink into the mood.

I enjoy the sounds.—the small trickle of the waterfall, the soft breeze of wind, the quiet rustle of leaves.

“Still…”

I frown, a slight pout tugging at my lips.

“I haven’t found anything big recently. Maybe it’s time to up my game?”

*****

Thalindra sits at the small wooden table, her fingers delicately wrapped around a cup of tea. The aroma of the leaves—carefully selected and steeped to perfection—fills the quiet room. Beside it, a plate of biscuits sits untouched—merely a gesture of a past habit.

She doesn’t feel the hunger. Only the tea—only the calm.

A soft sip, the liquid tracing its warmth down her throat. Peaceful. Quiet.

Then, a distant sound breaks the stillness. Barely perceptible. Almost like a stray gust of wind against the shrine gates, or perhaps the shifting of the branches.

A moment’s hesitation.

But then—crack.

Wood splintering.

And a shrill, unmistakable laugh.

Thalindra’s sharp ears, honed by centuries of silence and solitude, pick up the sound. It’s unmistakable now.

An intruder.

Thalindra’s hand shifts to the mantle, where a small, worn box rests. Her fingers trace the familiar edges, then lift the delicate medallion within. The cold metal is smooth under her touch, the face inside worn with age.

For a moment, her gaze softens. Her husband. The one she had lost.

The moment passes quickly, the sharp clang of Liora’s antics outside snapping her back to the present.

The intruder’s reckless noise grows louder.

Crack. Thud. Another laugh—louder this time.

With a deep breath, Thalindra sets the medallion back in its box. No more distractions.

Whatever mischief this intruder brings, she’ll have no patience for it today.

Her focus returns to the present—and the recklessness that will soon face her.

*****

I stand with absolute calm, enjoying the breeze in the moonlight.

The young girl stumbles back, eyes wide with panic, trying to escape the frozen shrine gates.

"What the—?!" she exclaims, seeing my tall figure shrouded in mist.

Her heart races, but there’s no way out.

"Why are you here, little one?"

She tries to run but fails. Her confidence falters. I have her.

"Ugh," she mutters, reaching for her dagger, trying to act tough. "No need to make such a fuss, old lady. I was just taking a few things. I’m a treasure hunter, not a criminal."

She spins to bolt but freezes as my magic erupts beneath her feet, quickly encasing her in frost.

I watch her with curiosity.

"What are you doing in my shrine?" I ask again.
She glares, eyes flashing. "I don’t get it. You’re an elf, right? Why stick around in some dusty old shrine when there’s so much out there to take?"

I scowl at her. "I stay because I understand the value of what is here. True value." She gestures to the shrine. "You think this is just a 'dusty old shrine’? It’s far more than that."

She tugs at the ice, but her fiery nature refuses to let her yield. "I’m not here for tradition. I’m here for treasure—the kind you can take with you."

I blink, feeling disappointed. "The treasure you seek shines bright... until it doesn’t. What remains?"

She clenches her jaw. "I’m not looking for a lecture. I want treasure, not some dusty old 'value.'"

"Perhaps you’re too blinded by hunger for treasure to see the cost."

She narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?"

My voice turns cold. I feel the bitterness of past events, as I explain it again to another fool…

"Once, I was like you. Chasing silver chains and rubies... but that was before everything changed. After my husband’s death, I began to seek only one prize—the Star Tear. A stone that grants a single wish, no matter the cost. The one treasure I’ve never been able to claim."

She raises an eyebrow. She seems skeptical. "And that has what to do with me?"

I frown at her. "You’re a thief. You might have the skills I need to finally claim it."

She blinks, still processing. "You want me to help you get your treasure?"

I give her a small smile, though it’s not one of warmth. "You’ll need more than a dagger and wits to succeed. Help me, and I’ll forgive your intrusion. Refuse, and I might keep you encased in ice for eternity.”

She grits her teeth. I’ve made my point; I’m not just some old hermit.

Before she can responds, a chill sweeps the air. The night falls, wind swirling, and the ground trembles.

A distant rumble echoes across the land.

A cloaked figure appears between us, mounted on a night pegasus. Its dark robe flickers with a red mane, energy crackling around it.

The rider raises a hand. "You are not the ones to find the Star Tear," it intones. "Not unless you learn to work together."

We turn, eyes wide in disbelief. I keep my face unreadable, but you can clearly see she feels panic rise.

The rider raises its hand again, and mist swirls violently around us.

"Go. Seek the Tear. But heed my warning—your journey will not be one of triumph. You have ten weeks until it vanishes forever."

I ask quietly, yet trying to sound firm. "Who are you?"

The rider doesn’t answer, cracking the whip as the pegasus takes flight, vanishing into the mist.

"Remember. Ten weeks."

The echo of the figure’s words hangs in the air, unsettling the shrine’s silence.

I smile at her, asking with sarcasm. "A limited edition treasure. You’ll come with me, then?"

She hesitates, pride stinging, but the mention of a limited edition treasure baits her.

"Fine," she mutters. "But I’m doing this my way."

I don’t flinch. "We’ll see."

As the mist swirls around us, a tense silence settles into place.

I can finally hunt again for the Star Tear—and time is already running out.