The seashell stand, unmanned and unvisited, glittered dangerously in the sunlight, like a thousand tiny blades were for sale instead of gem-encrusted shells. There were no prices on the stand, no signs at all. Just glittering shells. The last person to take one was last seen walking into the ocean at dusk from the resort-front, shell clutched tightly in xir hand.
In the break from customers, the werewolf basked in the warm sunlight streaming through the display window, stealing away with the leftover winter chill. That is, until xe felt xir hair stand on end. Xe was being watched.
Knowingly, the werewolf turned around and watched as the spirit flinched back as if afraid to be caught. The werewolf continued to stare until the spirit finally spoke. “Does it feel nice?” ze asked in a meek voice. For a moment, the werewolf could swear tears shimmered on the spirit’s face.
Pity consumed xem and xe could only nod. The spirit made a dejected sound and drifted upstairs towards the living quarters. The living quarters that used to be zirs, back when ze was still among the living. The werewolf felt shame mix with the pity. If only xe hadn’t been the unknowing cause of it all. Xe would take it back in an instant, but that didn’t matter now. Xe couldn’t go back and alter the past.
The Faerie planted xir feet firmly at the entrance to the little cubby in the wall, peering sharply through the colorful and writhing aether of already-eaten dreams. A dream eater den was no place for this lost babe but the Faerie had to have answers, and answers xe would get. With teeth bared, xe walked in with purpose. The babe slept soundly the whole time.
The drake perched upon the abandoned village’s roofs, smoke wafting from its nostrils, its scales shimmering in the dying summer light. The rogue princex, run ragged and weary, looked up to it and flashed a fearsome grin. “What say you to being a help to me for a while? I’ll make sure you get a fair share of treasures and a lair perfect for yourself.”
The drake shook its head as if shooing off a particularly annoying fly. Thinking of a fly sized enough to annoy a drake mildly perturbed the princex. “I wish not for treasures, mortal,” the drake rumbled. “Nor a lair to call my own. You claim to be heir to this wretched kingdom’s throne? Good. That will be help enough. I will tell you when the time comes what I wish from you. Not before."
The princex stared up at it, briefly concerned at what the price might be for this drake’s help, but xe shook its aside. "Then a bargain has been struck,” xe said proudly. And then xe felt the bargain take, the spell binding the princex to the drake. There would be no running from this, not now. The drake gave a fearsome, jagged grin in response.
The usurped princex sat in the prison tower, embittered and wrathful. Xir vengeance upon the land would be spoken of for generations to come, of that xe swore to the deities above and devils below. A spark of power flickered between xir fingers, a light burning hot in the dank and dark. The guards never saw it coming.
The spirit watched the witches dance around xir shop, carefree and joyful, taking no notice of xir presence. The Imbolc festival was in full swing, and the shop was one of the few place welcoming them to dance and sing and be merry. The spirit wished xe could join them. Xe wanted to dance again.
The potential homeowner wandered around the long-abandoned house, reveling in its antique style and uniqueness. The fact that there were ghosts and all manners of other spirits residing in the nooks and crannies just made xem love it even more.
Dawn broke over the battlefield as the heroes and warriors marched home, their feet dragging with exhaustion. Only their leader noticed it, the subtle strings of otherworldly power around the group. Xe looked to the sky and smiled wearily, murmuring a small prayer of thanks to xir goddex before continuing on. The goddex smiled warmly from their throne on high.
“Why would I ever take lessons from you?” the angel spat.
The demon felt a surge of smugness as the angel slipped into xir dance class the very next weekend, very obviously trying to remain unrecognized. The demon would always recognize zem, no matter what disguise attempts ze used.
The child watched as the spirit wandered around the storefront, tugging on xir parent’s shirt in vain. The child’s eyes were wide as the spirit gave xem a kindly smile. The werewolf store owner watched the exchange and grinned.