01/31/2024 03:04 PM  The Handsome Sorcerer TW: Mentions of mild abuse, I suppose. Alcohol abuse. The Handsome SorcererThe Beginning “Amaya? Where are you going, girl? We have work to do.” The gruff sound of her father’s voice carried through the air and Amaya turned to look at him, as the black dog at her heel paused his steps, sitting himself down on the grass. “I was just taking Perrito for a quick walk, papa. I’ll be back before lunch.” Her father’s dark eyes, bloodshot from his drinking the evening before, stared into hers for the briefest of seconds before he quickly pulled his gaze away, as though he’d been stung by a venomous creature. His hand moved to grab one of the thin poles holding up the canopy above him, giving it a little shake to make sure that she had fastened it securely. Anything to distract himself from the guilt he felt when he looked at his daughter. He let out a grunt. “See that you are.” Without waiting for anything further from him, Amaya turned and half-walked, half-ran towards the nearby village, Perrito at her heel, but even as they left him behind, Amaya couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow at the way her father had looked - or rather not looked - at her. She understood why, and if she hadn’t, he made it pretty clear every evening when he opened his first bottle of gin and took the first few mouthfuls. The gin always hit him quickly, and he would slur harsh, cruel words at her. She reminded him of her mother, and the older she got, the more Amaya looked like Maria. How much she looked like her mother, however, seemed to have a direct influence on how many of those bottles of gin her father would drink and now, in her eighteenth year, the same age her mother was when her father met her, he was drinking so much gin each night that his entire personality changed, and Amaya was left nursing the bruises that came as a result. Her mother had been bright and outgoing, always willing to put her father in his place, not that he’d needed it as much then. Their love had been fierce and fiery. They would argue passionately, and make up just as passionately. They were from two different worlds - her father a travelling tradesman, and her mother the daughter of a nobleman, due to marry into royalty until she met a man wanting to show her the world. Amaya had been their everything and both had doted on her. Her father taught her how to read people, how to bargain with them and sell almost anything to almost anyone, product or idea. Her mother taught her everything she had been taught as a noblewoman - how to read and write and ride a horse, how to sew and bake, how to retain poise and regality even under stress, and how to walk and talk like someone far above the station Amaya found herself in. Amaya had learned so well that she was often mistaken for someone far more noble than she was. Then her mother passed away, following a long illness. Amaya hadn’t left her side. Aged only 11, she had nursed her sick mother until the day her darling Mama left her. Her father had fallen apart the very same day, and Amaya’s happy, blissful life had fallen apart before her eyes in a matter of weeks. Now, each night, Amaya made sure she did everything within her power not to trigger her father’s temper, but no matter what she did, he seemed to resent her very existence. Her similarity to Maria, down to her identical hazel eyes, pained him so much that he couldn’t look at his daughter when sober, and couldn’t stand seeing her when drunk, at least not until his temper flared and he decided to use his rage against her to make himself feel better. As she approached the nearby village, Amaya took a moment to inhale the gentle scent of the orange blossom that carried on the wind, letting nostalgia fill her for the briefest of moments. This particular village, half a day’s ride from Seville, was one of a dozen villages that Amaya had spent her life moving between, and it had been her mother’s favourite. The family had never settled in one place long but Amaya had always wished she could find a place to settle, and this village was the one that felt the most like home. Her mother had thrived in the travelling life, even though it was very different from her upbringing. She was warm and friendly and had numerous friends in each of the villages. People always seemed pleased to see her. Maria had used her needlework and dressmaking skills to alter clothing she bought cheaply in one village, to sell in the next as high-end fashion. The women of these villages would find themselves so drawn in by Maria’s breeding and class that they snapped up her dresses without hesitation and to her mother’s credit, the dresses were beautiful. But Amaya despised needlework and, while she could easily have taken over her mother’s little business, she let that part of their trade die the day Maria did. The village was alive with so much sound that Amaya’s senses were immediately overwhelmed. For weeks, there had been nothing in her life but nature and the sound of her father’s voice, Perrito’s occasional barking and the sound of the squeaking wheels of the old caravan as the horses pulled it along the stone tracks, and now suddenly she was surrounded by noises and smells and voices shouting in anger and lifting in joy. Beside her, Perrito moved closer, his large paws padding in time to her steps. The dog’s name was something of a little joke of Amaya’s. It meant ‘little dog’, but Perrito was anything but. A large, shaggy mound of soft, black fu, with large black eyes, sharp teeth and huge paws. His head came up to Amaya’s waist and when he jumped up, he towered over her petite frame. Despite his rather fearsome appearance, however, the dog was timid and antisocial. He had no time for most people and he certainly had no love for Amaya’s father. Amaya stopped to sit on a stone bench by the river, watching Perrito move to take a drink from the cool water. She closed her eyes, letting the rays of the sun warm her skin, letting herself relax for the first time in days. “Amaya? Is that you?” A familiar voice hit the teenager’s ear and before she could turn to face its owner, arms surrounded her, pulling her up from the bench and into a tight hug. “Gloria, hi…” Amaya responded, almost awkwardly as the older woman finally let her go, feeling Gloria’s eyes scanning her form. “Hm, you’re looking far too skinny. Come with me to the shop, I’m going to have to feed you up a bit. Whatever would your mother say…” Rolling her eyes fondly, Amaya followed Gloria towards the small bookshop she owned, knowing she didn’t have much choice. If she’d not come willingly, Gloria would certainly have dragged her there. She was one of her mother’s oldest friends, and when she’d fallen sick, Gloria had promised her that she would watch out for Amaya whenever they were in the village. It was a promise she had taken seriously. As they fell in step, Perrito trailing behind them, Gloria began to tell Amaya everything that she’d missed in the few months since she had last been in the village, talking a lot so that Amaya didn’t have to. Amaya chuckled softly as she learned the gossip of the village, the scandals and dramas that had taken place since they had left. One particular story seemed to fill Gloria with a different excitement, however. “A sorcerer?” Amaya asked with a soft chuckle as Gloria told her the tale of the ‘handsome stranger’ who had arrived in the village two weeks earlier, talking about magic and, seemingly, demonstrating it too. “And a pretty good one at that.” Gloria nodded, unlocking the shop door “He has a particular skill for wishes. Young Beatrice wished to have the best wedding the village had ever seen and he made it happen. Don’t ask me how. Oh, but you should have been there. The cake was particularly divine!” Gloria seemed to lose herself in memory of the cake for a moment, allowing Amaya to step into the bookstore the other woman owned, after commanding Perrito to wait outside. As she stepped inside, suddenly greeted by the hundreds of books that Gloria had obtained over the years and the incredible scent they gave off, Amaya felt an odd peace wash over her. She loved books. She’d read all day if she could, letting herself escape into fantasy worlds, or filling her head with whatever knowledge she could get her hands on. She wasn’t sure what she’d do without books and so, at each village, she picked up as many as she could afford or traded those she’d already read. Over the years, she’d probably transported hundreds of books between the different villages. “He granted old Andre his wish too” Gloria’s voice broke Amaya’s trance as she moved past the teenager to the back of the shop where she began to prepare food and drink for them both. “Oh?” “Yes, he wished to leave his family with more than he’d been left. The next morning, he woke to the largest harvest his farm had ever had.” “That’s.. incredible. I wish I’d had a chance to see his magic at work” “You might yet. He’s still in town.” Gloria placed a plate of sandwiches in front of Amaya, urging her to eat. Amaya picked up a sandwich and nibbled at the corner. “He’s promised to grant another wish soon. You should come and see it happen.” “I’d like to” Amaya said with a light shrug “We’ll see.” Gloria frowned, sitting opposite her. “Is it your father?” “No, no.. he’d probably be thrilled with me disappearing for a few hours. I just..” “You were such a shy child.” Gloria interrupted her rambling. Amaya chuckled. “I’m still a shy child” “Oh, you’re not a child any more, my sweet. You’re a beautiful young lady. You’ll be finding a nice man and settling down soon.” Gloria smiled. Amaya laughed. “Yeah the problem is, I’d have to talk to them to find out if they were nice or not and that’s.. that’s not really in my skill set.” She shrugged. ‘But what I wouldn’t give to settle’ she thought to herself. Once she had eaten enough sandwiches to convince Gloria that she was no longer on the brink of starvation, Amaya began to browse the shelves of books, looking for overlooked gems among the dust. “You’ve got an abundance of books about shipbuilding” she called out to Gloria, who muttered something about one of the villagers returning from their time at sea, but Amaya was no longer listening as her eyes had fallen on an old-looking book, bound in leather, with peeling gold writing upon the cover. ‘Competing Elemental Theories’ the letters embossed on the cover read, and she picked it up, carrying it towards the front of the shop. It seemed to be a magic book, and Amaya wasn’t sure how it had found its way into Gloria’s shop. “Where did this-“ she paused hearing the sound of Perrito’s happy bark, a bark he only used to greet Amaya, from outside, followed by the tinkling of the bell above the shop door as it opened. Amaya’s gaze fell upon Gloria’s newest customer. He was tall, almost a foot taller than she was without her heels, with dark hair and beautiful ice-blue eyes. He walked into the shop with a gentle confidence that Amaya could only dream of possessing, and something was enchanting about him that she couldn’t quite explain. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments and she felt as though a jolt of electricity ran through her very core, as though he was staring into her very soul and her soul longed to answer. He gave her a warm smile that made her stomach flutter, and she swore her heart had skipped a beat the minute that smile had brushed over his lips. Amaya blushed. template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

12/30/2023 12:28 PM  Dear Diary #6 - Joy Dear DiaryAn entry made featuring joy Dear Diary, I’ve had a lot of joy in my life. My husband is loving and generous and has given me joy in abundance since the day we met. But I’ve never felt anything like the joy I feel this morning. Truthfully, I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a million years, but at the same time, I never want to sleep again. I want to sit and look down at her cute little face forever, marvelling at the fact that the deep love I feel for my husband created this tiny being. She’s so vulnerable, and I’ve never felt more protective over anything in my life. I would literally tear the world apart for her. It’s a strange feeling. Overwhelming. And she’s healed me in a way I never expected, taking away a lot of pain that I’ve been holding onto for years without even realising. The only thing greater than my own joy is seeing it on Magnifico’s face. Joy suits him. I just want to be near her all the time, I might never let her go. template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

12/29/2023 11:51 PM  Dear Diary #5 - Magnifico So, this was hard because all of Amaya’s diaries probably have mention Magnifico, since those from the day they met. So instead, I wrote this inspired by musings from last night.   Dear DiaryAn entry mentioning Magnifico Dear Diary, I think.. I might be pregnant. Well, no, I’m pretty certain I am. I don’t know how I let this happen. Ever since my miscarriage, which feels so long ago now, I’ve been very careful. Overly careful if anything. I could never bear to fall pregnant again, fearing having to deal with that pain all over when my body ultimately failed me, as I believed it would. But three months ago, Magnifico took me away from the city on a lovely little holiday, just the two of us, and what’s a girl to do when left alone with her gorgeous husband for days, with nothing to do but reconnect with him? And gods did we reconnect. Repeatedly. Who could blame me for losing myself in Magnifico? Who could blame me for forgetting to be careful? And now here we are. How do I tell him? Do I tell him? Do I wait? What if I tell him and it all goes wrong again? How could I live with myself if I raised his hopes only to disappoint him again? I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to get hurt again but I can’t help but dream of a future with a child, our child, a miniature mix of Magnifico and me, with my dark curls and his stunning blue eyes, with his charisma and my kindness.. and with his confidence, they’d be unstoppable. I shouldn’t think about this. I can’t. If I let myself dream, it will hurt too much if it’s taken away. template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

12/27/2023 11:18 PM  Dear Diary #4 - Best Night This one is a little more.. explicit so y’know. Don’t read it if you have issues with sexual imagery haha   Dear DiaryAn entry made on the best night of her life Dear Diary, I feel like I’m walking on air. Tonight was the best night ever, marrying the love of my life. Everything was perfection, from the ceremony to the moment he took me into his arms and danced with me beneath the stars. And then came our wedding night, and sensations I never even imagined I could feel. From the moment he slipped inside me, everything just felt… right. The way our bodies moved together, the way he filled me perfectly… it was heaven. I’m not really sure how I’ll get much done over the next few days, when all I want to do is lie in bed with him, feeling him move within me, climaxing with him as his name spills from my lips… I never thought I could find him more attractive, but seeing him without clothes, my eyes able to feast on everything he had to offer.. I proved myself wrong. The feel of his muscles beneath my fingers makes me shiver in delight. He has the body of a God, and I want to spend the rest of my life worshipping him like one. But right now, he’s sleeping beside me, his damp hair curled over his forehead in a way that makes me want to brush it away and cover his face in kisses. I love him so much, I could burst. I could watch him forever. I hope I get to. template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

12/27/2023 11:17 PM  Dear Diary #3 - Death TW: Death. But not really much detail so shouldn’t be that triggering really.   Dear DiaryAn entry featuring mention of death Dear Diary I’m sorry I’ve not written in a while. When Mama fell sick, I didn’t dare write about it, just in case I manifested something worse. And then worse came anyway, and I lost the desire to do pretty much everything. We said goodbye to her for the final time today. I thought I’d spend the day in tears, but my poor Papa is so broken that I’ve been more concerned about his grief than my own. I always wanted a love that ran as deeply as the love my Mama and Papa had for one another, but great love can lead to great loss and the thought of losing someone that I love, of suffering the way Papa is now.. I’m not sure I could be as strong as he has been. Unsurprisingly, my grandfather didn’t show up. Papa sent word of our little goodbye, but he had written Mama off a long time ago, barely even caring that his only daughter was dead. I can’t imagine ever being so callous, to hate your only daughter just because she fell in love with someone you thought beneath her. Grandmother, however, couldn’t keep herself away. I don’t blame her. Nothing in the world would keep me from saying goodbye to someone I loved. Once the funeral was over, she invited me to come and stay with her, wanting to give me the life of privilege that my mother had enjoyed, and while I wish for nothing more than a place that feels like a home, to stop travelling from village to village as Papa sells his wares - how could I ever leave him now? template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

12/25/2023 08:27 PM  Dear Diary #2 - Important Moment Dear DiaryAn entry made featuring an important moment in her life Dear Diary, I cannot sleep, even though I desperately need to, because I am brimming with a level of excitement that I have never felt before. Tomorrow, I will be marrying the love of my life. The man who has given me meaning. I never imagined it would come to this, truthfully. The moment we met, I felt such promise, such hope - he lit a fire in me that continues to burn, hotter than the Sun, but I didn’t believe that such a magnificent man would ever fall for someone like me. And yet, he did. And I’ve never felt more loved in my life. Suddenly, it feels as though someone exists who puts me first, who makes choices based on my best interests. I’ve seen him perform what can only be described as miracles, yet he looks at me as though he’s never seen anything as wondrous in his life. I’ve seen many beautiful women attempt to charm him or flirt with him, yet he only seems to have eyes for me. He’s proven so many times that there’s nothing he won’t do if he believes it would put a smile on my face. We have such plans for our future, and great, but ambitious, ideas that people have called us foolish for even entertaining. But I know our dream of a safe haven, where wishes can come true, is possible. There is nothing I believe in more than him, and together, we can do anything. I cannot wait to become his wife. . template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

12/23/2023 08:26 PM  Dear Diary #1 - Heartbreak I was going to post all of these in one bulletin but I’m going to spread them out. This one is “an entry made after experiencing heartbreak” TW: Miscarriage. She’s also pretty depressed and it made me sad writing it.   Dear DiaryAn Entry Made After Experiencing Heartbreak Dear Diary, It’s been three days since I lost our baby. Three horrible, pain filled days. It feels like all the joy has been pulled from my life, every hour seems to linger for a sorrow-filled eternity. I can’t eat, I barely sleep… I’ve never been so tempted to ask Magnifico to use his magic for me, to take away this pain. I can’t help but feel I’ve failed, as a wife… as a woman. There’s an emptiness within me that I can’t bear, that threatens to swallow me whole every day while I put on a brave face in front of the people who have faithfully followed us to this island. Already people have started to tell me that we can try again, that it will happen for us in time. I don’t know what’s worse - the unsolicited sympathy, or the fear that fills me at the thought of going through this heartbreak again. Magnifico looks at me with such pity. I can see he wants to comfort me, but he’s struggling to find the words, and rather than saying the wrong thing, he remains silent, looking at me with eyes that just break my heart even more than it already was. Each night, he’s held me in his arms as I’ve cried myself to sleep, filled with the guilt of failing him. During the day, he’s thrown himself into continuing to build up the city, the city he intends to make me Queen of, but how am I meant to keep a Kingdom safe when I couldn’t even keep our child safe? He’s reminded me that this was a pure accident, not something that we had planned for the here and now, and that if we want children, there’s no reason that we can’t have them in future when we choose to, when we’re not in the middle of building a Kingdom from scratch. But what if we can’t? What if I can never give him children? He says that doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t need an heir, but what if he changes his mind? What if he decides he wants a child and I can’t give him what he desires? He’s given me so much, what if I can’t even give him this? What if he finds someone new in a decade or so when I fail him? How could I ever continue to be without him? He loves me now, but will his love last if I can’t give him everything that he wants? template credit. 1 Comments  Report Post

Back to Posts