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a15minutestory t1_itb2aia wrote

The sorcerer leaned forward on his old oaken staff, his entire body racked with pain. He felt the sting of age, as he imagined he would, and forced his eyes open– to close them could mean his demise. He wasn't about to shuffle off of the mortal coil, not on the day that he finally bested his hated enemy. He coughed into his hand and examined the crimson liquid that filled the newly formed wrinkles.

Perhaps the ravages of age had been greater than he anticipated.

He wiped the blood away on his robe and rose to full height. His chin would be held high this day. It was the culmination of all he'd worked for, and although his body burned, his mind danced; a gleeful giddy dance, as he strode through the gates and glimpsed the still-life he'd painted with his own two hands and all the magic that his body could endure.

Inside the gates of the gleaming marble city, the populace stood still, captured in the very moment they'd been living just seconds ago. The eerie silence was music to the sorcerer's ears as he passed through the town groping women, taking what he pleased from the fruit carts, and singing like no one was listening– because they weren't. Nor would they ever again if it so pleased him. He took a leisurely stroll up the castle steps, tipping the still bodies of the guards over as he made his way up to the main gate. He waltzed through without a hint of resistance, pausing to admire a bird that had been stopped in mid-flight. Finally, he stood before the great doors to his new castle and thrust them open.

It had been a long time since he'd seen the royal blue carpet that stretched all the way across the great hall. Six massive columns lined his path on both sides and he marched betwixt them on his way up the throne room. He made faces at all the snooty nobles who had been stopped mid-negotiation as he passed them by, and after ascending the steps, he breezed past both guards and threw the ornate wooden doors open. He passed under the magnificent golden archway and gazed up the final set of carpeted stairs where his eyes landed on his target.

The king had lifted to his feet in his final free moments and bore a look of distress that was just delicious. The sorcerer made his way up the steps and smiled inches from the king's face.

"Hm. Seems that the spell wasn't instant," he spoke to himself as he took in every detail of the king's frozen expression. "I suspected that the magic might have rolled across the kingdom like a wave, but until now I wasn't certain. But to see your face all furrowed with worry as you watched your subjects stop in place– oh! I just couldn't ask for more."

He reached up and lifted the crown from the king's head, situating it atop his own. Pleased with the fit, he took a step past the king and gazed upon his new throne. He let out a contented sigh before turning around and falling into the chair. He placed his left leg over his right knee and rested his head against his knuckles as his lips curled up into a satisfied grin. His smile faded as he readjusted his weight, and then dropped into a frown as he looked down at the throne.

"I always assumed this thing was more comfortable," he grumbled before returning his eyes to the king. "Just another reason the crown was wasted on you, Rupert!" He kicked the king's backside, sending him down the stairs. The monarch remained in his rigid pose as he tumbled down the steps, and when he reached the bottom, he landed at the feet of a figure that the sorcerer could swear hadn't been there a moment ago. He blinked twice and leaned forward to get a better look at the man. He was adorned in armor that bore intricate designs of bears, lions, and dragons. He was cleanly shaven and had piercing blue eyes that met the sorcerers in a fashion that made him uncomfortable. The man remained as still as those around him as he glared up the stairs at the magician in the chair.

"Ahem," called the sorcerer. "I know not why I even ask thee, for I know in my heart the answer. But art thou of thy own free will?"

"You are not from around here, are you?" came the man's reply causing the sorcerer to recoil in place out of sheer surprise.

"Wha- but..." he stammered. "How- how are you–"

"So it was you," the man interrupted. "You're the one responsible for this." His tone was filled with flames of condemnation.

"Fool!" shouted the sorcerer as he rose from his throne. "Dost thou not know who thy speaketh to? I am none other than your new king and master! Ko-oh the Great! No! Ko-oh the Cruel!" he corrected himself. "Kneel! Kneel before me lest ye be turned to ash!" his shoulders rose and fell after his dramatic outburst. He had tired faster than he had expected.

"You're the fool, old man," spoke the gleaming knight as he pulled his longsword from its scabbard.

"Wha- old man?" cried the sorcerer. "Thou art older than I!"

"Well, then you look terrible," responded the knight. "Ko-oh the Cruel was it? I am Daunte the Indomitable, blade of the third mountain, and the end of your pitiful existence should you fail to undo your wicked sorcery this instant."

The sorcerer was taken aback. Those sounded like some serious accolades. Furthermore, he had used his entire pool of magic to freeze the kingdom in time. There was nothing left to draw upon with which to fight against the man.

"Ah. Well. T'is unfortunate for thee that... shalt I be touched, the kingdom shall explode!" He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect.

"Demon!" Daunte shouted, gritting his teeth.

"Uhh, yes. Well," Ko-oh cleared his throat. "Now that we have sorted out that business, you may commence the groveling."

The knight reluctantly dropped to a knee and laid his sword out in front of him.

"Yes," the sorcerer smiled. "That's good."

Daunte closed his eyes and clasped his hands together.

"Oh, thou art praying to me! Even better! I shalt not interrupt. Please, go on. Loud enough that I might hear your words of worship."

After a few moments, he watched as the knight wrapped his fingers around the grip of his longsword and rose to his feet, a twinkle of determination in his eyes.

"You, uhh... won't actually be needing that anymore," said Ko-oh, his brow wrinkling with worry.

"I have communed with the magic that permeates these halls," Daunte growled as he ascended the steps. "I am one with this world. The grass is my flesh and the soil is my blood."

"Ew."

"There is no such combustion weaved into your spellwork you lying worm."

"Let us, uhh... not resort to our baser instincts, Daunte," the sorcerer spoke as he began to backpedal past the throne. "We are civilized, wouldn't you agree?"

"The safety switch you imbued into the spell," Daunte said as he reached the top of the steps. "Now would be a good time to activate that."

Ko-oh was visibly shocked that the knight knew as much as he did. He couldn't believe such a man existed in all the realms. It wasn't fair. The knight was a meathead, handsome, and somehow understood the intricacies of temporal spellcraft on a level that Ko-oh himself had spent his entire life unraveling. He looked left and then right; there was no escape. He truly had only one option left to him if he wished to live and exact his revenge another day.

"Daunte, the Indomitable..." murmured the sorcerer. "I shall remember thee... for next time."

He exhaled deeply and spoke the single word of power that would undo the spell– and the event altogether. Time unwound itself, pooling at the sorcerer's feet like a whelming wave before the very laws of nature broke themselves. The world began to spin around him as he, for the second time this day, spat in the face of the gods and their rules. When he awakened back at the front gate, he looked down at his young hands and tightened them into fists. His rage overflowed within him, for how could he have prepared for such a variable as Daunte? What was he? How was he so capable? The sorcerer turned and started down the road out of town.

He had math to do.

r/A15MinuteMythos

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Blueblaze97 OP t1_itb8yp5 wrote

I love your writing style. The way you described each scene was really well done. Nice job.

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a15minutestory t1_itba3fg wrote

Thank you, BlueBlaze <3

If you're interested in Daunte, the knight from the story, he's an existing character of mine from a prompt I answered months ago. You can read a story of Daunte going all out against a formidable foe right here if you have the mind to :)

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allrealmayo t1_itb7n94 wrote

Clarence was done and he had only just opened his eyes for the day. With a deep breath, he slid out of bed and got ready for work as a messenger. He had his bag, a slice of bread, and some good reading material for a break. Out the door with minutes to spare!

It was oddly quiet on his way to work. Just the way Clarence liked it! With little to no foot traffic it would be easy to get around everywhere he needed to for messages. At work his boss wasn’t there yet, which was a little weird, but great for Clarence! Now he could do his work with no one nagging at him! He sat down and began to sort all the messages that would need to be delivered today. When lunch came around he realized there weren’t even any interruptions! This day was really shaping out to be a good one.

For lunch he made his way to his favorite shop. Usually it was the busiest in the kingdom, but it must be closed today because no one was there. Maybe there was some event going on because it was still pretty quiet outside, but Clarence didn’t mind. Instead he stopped by the community gardens and grabbed a few things to eat while he read his book. After an hour, he headed back to the Message Post.

He packed the messages and walked around delivering them until it was time to go home. At home he ate dinner and then read his book until bedtime. Overall, it was truly a wonderful day! If only tomorrow would be just as peaceful!

Just a few miles away from Clarence, another man seemed to be having just as good of a day! Until he wasn’t.

“Finally! I have finally frozen every living thing in the capital! Now that I’ve done this the requirements have been fulfilled for the ultimate spell to ruin the kingdom!” The sorcerer cackled. He turned the page in his spell book and began the incantation. And nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing.

Surely if the freezing spell hadn’t fully worked someone would have made a fuss by now. What was he missing? All the ingredients were there. He was pronouncing the incantation correctly. The sorcerer threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of his work room. He only had enough magic stored up to keep everybody frozen for so long. The sorcerer needed a break. He would come back after lunch and try again. Except it still didn’t work.

The sorcerer tried everything he could but his life’s work he created to ruin the kingdom was a failure. By the next morning, his magic had run out and everyone woke up like normal, not even knowing a day had passed.

Clarence was a bit sad that the next day was as busy as normal, but he hoped that another day soon would be just as quiet.

And that is the story of how Clarence, a normal introverted man, saved the kingdom.

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SnowMantra t1_itbyzi0 wrote

I read this in the voice of the Narrator from The Stanley Parable 😁

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Blueblaze97 OP t1_itb8vg5 wrote

Wonderful! This is exactly one of the vibes I was looking for a story from this prompt. Nicely done.

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Blueblaze97 OP t1_itauruk wrote

Anya had been planning this attack for five years already. Everything was perfect, all the nobles reunited inside the city and the spell ready to be unleashed. It would take a lot of energy but in the end it was worth it.
As she finished pronouncing the last incantation an eerie stillness wrapped around the city, as every living being (and non living since she had to take into account the possibility of undead) became frozen like a statue.
Completely satisfied by the outcome, Anya's mind begun spinning with every step of her plan she was about to perform, until a tiny movement caught her eye.
In one of the alleys there was what looked liked a wizened old man going about his day like nothing happened. Even weirder, it looked like he had a small area of influence where the people around him moved unaffected as well, just to return still as they left the moving man invisible circle.
'Now that's just great', Anya thought.
'Just when I was about to start my plan, something unexpected just HAD to happen, hadn't it ?'
'What should I do now? Should I just keep going like nothing happened, ignoring this doofus and proceeding as planned? Or should I go investigate and risk alerting a powerful unknown entity?
He certainly doesn't seem aware of what's going on and even if he did, he doesn't strike me as a hero...'
While Anya was thinking, she kept an eye on the man in question and loosely followed him from a distance.
'Alright, let's probe with caution what he's up to and move from there.'
"Excuse me good sir, can I help you"
"Oh, yes please. I'm looking for the renowned bakery that makes the best blueberry pie in the country. I know the general location, but could you give me better directions?"
'A blueberry pie??? Of all things? The mysterious man unaffected my painstakingly prepared spell just wants a piece of blueberry pie? Just my luck...'
"Ah yes, the famous blueberry pie of Jolvar, just keep going this direction until the outer wall, then follow it up to the fountain. From there take the street with the sides covered in ivy, and the shop should be on the right. "
'Perfect. This way he'll be the farthest from where I intend to act'
"Thank you very much. You've been a very kind soul. I wish you a good day.
Ah, and good luck with the assault." The last words spoken as he's already heading towards his destination.
Anya stood there for a moment, too dumbstruck to process what just happened.
'Good.
Luck.
Invasion?
He knows???'
Having recollected her bearings, she tried to catch up with the old man, who moved farther along during her brief shock.
"Wait a second. You know what's going on?"
"But of course, how would I not? Everybody's still as a stone. It would make me quite the imbecile not to notice, wouldn't you agree?"
"B-b-but you're moving? How are you not still? My spell should have frozen you like everybody else! I spent years preparing for this."
"Oh that... I just wanted to taste the famous blueberry pie. Couldn't delay it for a bit, I've waited too long, and besides, let's just say I have learned a few tricks in my years..."
"Soooo, are you going to interfere with my plan?"
"Depends. Are you going to destroy the bakery?"
"No"
"Good, then I guess I won't. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a pie to taste and you're in my way, and I suggest you don't delay me further lest I change my mind. As I said earlier, good day!"
And with that, he took off at a brisker pace than earlier, seemingly eager to get his hands on his pie.
'Hah! This was truly unexpected. Maybe after everything's done, I might as well go and sample this famous blueberry pie'.

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a15minutestory t1_itb3y49 wrote

Really cool prompt response. I like that you left the old man's secret up to the imagination. In my headcanon, he's a shapeshifted dragon just strolling through human society, unconcerned with who rules what. Because in the end, it's all really his.

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Blueblaze97 OP t1_itb92aw wrote

Thanks. I thought about the dragon idea as well, but didn't want to make it "official" so I preferred to leave that up to the reader's imagination as you correctly pointed out.

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Reyna_the_Fox t1_iteobt9 wrote

Kass strolled leisurely through the main square of the capital. She spun a lazy circle, put the hood of her cloak down, and took a deep breath of the clean still air.

Long had she prepared for this day, shut away in caves and cellars and musty decrepit buildings, but now?

She could afford to enjoy this, if only for a few moments.

A few still

Silent

Precious moments.

A glance at the pocket watch she had used as a catalyst for the spell, a spell everyone else had told her would backfire horribly, told her she had just under an hour and a half to get her work done. No matter.

The sewers of the capital extended right up to the alleys that the walls to the palace helped to form half of, and it was a quick jaunt to the main thoroughfare and town square that the gates to the palace property overlooked.

The palace, naturally, had its own separate, secure, sewer system.

But that mattered not, with her as the sole inhabitant of this still and silent world she had made. Snatched really, from the grips of whatever turned the wheel of time, the hairspring on the clock, kept time flowing how it would.

But Kass was good at at snatching things; bread to keep from starving, medicine for her mother as she lay ill and dying in the gutter. A burial plot for her.

And after that, later, the ingredients and reagents for the magic she had begun to teach herself using information copied onto scraps of paper, that she had snatched from the refuse of the print shop down the way, from books she looked at in the library after hours when she was supposed to be cleaning.

Kass was very good at snatching things.

She'd snatch one last thing, and she would await whatever fate would come then.

The king would be dead in a, literal, split second. And then she would be gone, flee, forget about him.

Forget he had ever banished her and her mother from the castle to die in squalor and filth.

She would finally be able to start over.

Having climbed over the gilded scrolls that formed over the top of the gate and approached the palace proper, she began going over the plan she had made once more.

She still had 45 minutes of ~her~ time left. More than enough time to slip in, pour three drops of Drengan Root extract in the king's wine, and slip the vial into the pocket of his general, a man whose numerous attrocoties rivaled those of her father, the king.

This was it, it was almost showtime.

Rounding the corner to the servants entrance, to get to the kitchen which in turn would lead to the banquet hall where a banquet was currently being held for some military victory, and then, it would be done. No going back.

A deep breath, and-

Wham!

Something moving, forceful, solid yet... Warm? Soft?

Whatever it was, it had run into ~her~.

She who was currently supposed to be the only one to be cruising along the ripples and eddys in the river of time.

Run into her and fallen on top of her.

And then it moved, and it had a face.

A very ~pretty~ face, hazel eyes, freckles, and rings upon rings of flax colored hair.

Crooked smile, and then sweet lavender voice coming out.

"Sorry stranger! I didn't see you, sorry," stammered, embarrassed, sweet, "I'm just out of time, in a huge hurry..."

The sound of birdsong greeted Kass's ears as the breathtakingly beautiful woman helped her up and dusted her off.

Birdsong.

From birds, that were moving.

Because some beautiful, yet somehow uneffected by Kass' spell, woman had somehow broken some spell by uttering it's phrase words.

'out of time'

Kass was now, also, quite out of time.

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Blueblaze97 OP t1_itfzpng wrote

Nice take on the prompt. I loved the random/fated guess of the spell's "password". It feels like the beginning of an interesting story.

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robertroquemore t1_itiijs2 wrote

He had spent many a happy hour inside the clock tower, doing maintenance and replacing gears. It had become his hobby, then his lifestyle. His only time to spend on his own was on Sundays. After mass, which he enjoyed mainly to hear the steeple bells, he would visit his brother in the next town. Having Sunday lunch with his brother and his family on their dairy farm was always the highlight of his week!

As he came home after a fine birthday party for his 13 year old niece, and promising to take his nephew on as an apprentice, he said farewell and headed home. As he approached the town, he was shocked to see the clock in town square frozen at 12 noon! As he entered the town, all of his friends and neighbors looked like statues!

He slowly rode through town, and finally came to the other end of town. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, or what he could do. Since it was getting dark, he chose to go home and come back tomorrow. However, a quick trip to the church for prayer seemed a good thing to do.

The steeple bells, which usuallldy chimed at noon, were also frozen! He lit a candle and prayed for guidance. After a light dinner at home, he went to bed, thinking maybe fixing the bells and clock tower might help. Dawn came quickly, and the light of day had brought no change to the little village.

He realized that he could get more done if he collected his nephew, and got him started on the clock tower while he worked on the steeple bells. A quick trip found his nephew comihis was on the road. After a quick conversation, his nephew agreed to send word to his father and go back to the village with him.

It only took him an hour of instruction to show the nephew what to do for the clock tower. After his nephew assured him they could finish in about 6 days, he loaded up his equipment and rode over to the church for the steeple bells. Then, he noticed the father, frozen in the pulpit, and a letter in his hand!

The letter was from Maggie McBride, the young girl that had been excommunicated 20 years ago! She told the father to sell the church to her, or the entire village would be frozen for 7 days, then disappear forever! The only way she would recant the spell would be if an outsider would be able to start the clock and ring the bells in unison, before the week was up.

He found a quickly scrawled note at the bottom of the letter, clearly by the hand of the father. It stated that if the correct scripture was quoted while the clock tolled and the steeple bells rang, the village would be free of such a spell forever! I looked at the open Bible, and his finger was frozen at the verse that stated "...nor anything else in all creation shall be able to separate us from the love of the Father, which is in Jesus Christ our Lord."

I quickly wrote down the verse, and headed up to the steeple. I realized that the only reason the bells couldn't ring was that someone had put enough water on the gears to rust them! I quickly used my lubricant, and after one day, the bells were ringing once again.

I hustled over to the clock tower, where I found my nephew hard at work. His hours of labor had freed up most of the gears, and then I saw it. Someone had taken a sledge hammer to the mainspring, and it was destroyed! I knew the only was to get a replacement was to take the train for 1 day to Central City. So, I assisted him in all the remaining maintenance, and we planned to take the train the next morning.

As we woke the next morning, and arrived at the train station 30 minutes ahead of the train, I noticed someone watching my nephew from across the platform. As I finished my telegraph to Central City, and confirmed the mainspring would be ready, a woman had engaged my nephew in conversation. I recognized Maggie McBride!

I told my nephew that we should have a bite to eat before the train arrived, asked her to excuse us, and took him quickly across the street to the diner. I told him about the letter, and asked him if she had threatened him or the village. He said she wanted him to help her get home, but I had interrupted before he could respond! Now, he was anxious to avoid her!

The trip went as planned, and his telegraph to his father meant he would meet us at the train depot near the village to help transport the mainspring to the clock tower. My brother was happy to help us with the remaining work, and we finished the mainspring on day 6! However, each morning found us missing more and more animals from the town!

Finally, it was almost time. On day 7, near noon, Maggie McBride entered the village from the south side, and had a small army of men behind her! I was stationed in the church steeple, my nephew in the clock tower, and my brother was in front of the pulpit. Maggie laughed and threatened as she led to army of cattle rustlers and looters into the village, stating the church and the entire village would pay for her excommunication!

I hit the right lever, and the steeple bells rang out! My nephew activated the mainspring and the clock bells tolled! My brother quoted the scripture loud and long! Maggie McBride screamed and covered her ears! From the north end of town, a crowd of farmers and villagers approached her and her small army!

The opposing sides met at the square, right in front of the clock tower. The sheriff and his 5 deputies held their rifles on the lead horses. Then, the father came running out of the church and called for quiet. I watched this from the steeple, hoping for a miracle!

My brother was at the father's side, holding the Bible. Maggie McBride was livid, and began to swear vengeance on the father and the village! Then, my nephew came out of the clock tower, and stood right in front of Maggie McBride! Her jaw fell, as she realized that the boy who told the father of her attempt to burn down the church was standing right in front of her.

My nephew told her that if anyone deserved to be punished, it was him. He would gladly let her do whatever she chose if she left the town alone. My brother protested, but my nephew was adamant. She began to tell my brother that his son deserved to die for exposing her 20 years ago, but the sheriff called for quiet.

Since he had been sheriff for over 30 years, he remembered the night he arrested her for attempted arson. He told the village of how her parents were dearly loved, but she had been a horrible child. That night, they took her to the church to pray for her, and she grabbed the candles they had lit, and threw them at the father. His robe caught fire, and he barely managed to remove it before he was burned! The robe caught the curtain of the confessional on fire, and while the father beat the flames out, her parents were cornered by the flames and died!

Maggie McBride escaped the fire that night, but the father had her excommunicated, and sent Maggie to prison. All these years in prison had driven her nearly mad, and her only wish was to punish the village and church for her parents death! As my nephew finished his story, he also confessed that he was the one who grabbed Maggie out of the fire, but then took her to the sheriff.

As the story was told, more and more of Maggie's small army made their way out of town, realizing Maggie had deceived them. Maggie broke down in tears, and the sheriff and his deputies took her away. The father asked for leniency, and she was put in an asylum.

The entire town turned out that night, and honored my nephew for his heroism. The sheriff asked for the graves of the parents of Maggie McBride to be cleaned and adorned with new angels. I was able to retire after only one year with my nephew, and I always smile when I hear the clock chimes and steeple bells!

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