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shallownessFiclets: all original fiction, probably a PG rating, if that. Anything over 100 words will also be posted at AO3. (This was meant to be my last post, but I've filled a few more prompts.)
Sorceress’s Apprentice, Original fic, OCs, 79 words. Written for the prompt ‘any, any, sorceress's apprentice’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
She knew that they would have laughed at her if she'd approached them, the great sorcerers of this ancient city in their dark, impressive cloaks. But this one they deem an aberration, with her 'little magicks' that are for the commoner's hearth, not the grand halls, she only looks Alya up and down once, and nods. Her instructions are plain, but Alya must wrestle with the elements to carry them out, and month by month, she becomes more proficient.
Where the trees breathe and the water remembers, Original fic, OC, 116 words. Written for the prompt ‘any, any, where the trees breathe and the water remembers’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
Trigger warning: passing reference to the Covid-19 pandemic.
Gwen made a short list – a literal short list in marker pen – of all the places she’d go when the travel restrictions lifted, and this was number 2 on the list. Both her grandparents are long gone, and the route to the village looks different when you’re the one driving and it’s over three decades since you came here last, but the countryside is green and that’s what she focuses on, not the changes. She parks the car not too far from the right of way, and walks until she comes to her spot where she believed in tree shepherds and water nymphs, once; it’s strangely unchanged, and she apologises for her long absence with tears.
More than a reflection, Original fic, OCs, 84 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, any, I’m more than a reflection on you’ [sic] at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
Her mother and father’s expressions are alike after she has said her piece. This time last year, she would have taken back her words in the face of their disappointed disapproval—no, this time last year, she wouldn't even have dared voice this desire, let alone take action to make this possible. A lot can happen in a year, growth, bravery born of desperation, and so she walks away from her parents, away from her childhood home, towards a new life of her choosing.
Sorceress’s Apprentice, Original fic, OCs, 79 words. Written for the prompt ‘any, any, sorceress's apprentice’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
She knew that they would have laughed at her if she'd approached them, the great sorcerers of this ancient city in their dark, impressive cloaks. But this one they deem an aberration, with her 'little magicks' that are for the commoner's hearth, not the grand halls, she only looks Alya up and down once, and nods. Her instructions are plain, but Alya must wrestle with the elements to carry them out, and month by month, she becomes more proficient.
Where the trees breathe and the water remembers, Original fic, OC, 116 words. Written for the prompt ‘any, any, where the trees breathe and the water remembers’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
Trigger warning: passing reference to the Covid-19 pandemic.
Gwen made a short list – a literal short list in marker pen – of all the places she’d go when the travel restrictions lifted, and this was number 2 on the list. Both her grandparents are long gone, and the route to the village looks different when you’re the one driving and it’s over three decades since you came here last, but the countryside is green and that’s what she focuses on, not the changes. She parks the car not too far from the right of way, and walks until she comes to her spot where she believed in tree shepherds and water nymphs, once; it’s strangely unchanged, and she apologises for her long absence with tears.
More than a reflection, Original fic, OCs, 84 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, any, I’m more than a reflection on you’ [sic] at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
Her mother and father’s expressions are alike after she has said her piece. This time last year, she would have taken back her words in the face of their disappointed disapproval—no, this time last year, she wouldn't even have dared voice this desire, let alone take action to make this possible. A lot can happen in a year, growth, bravery born of desperation, and so she walks away from her parents, away from her childhood home, towards a new life of her choosing.
