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She crossed her legs on the blanket, leaning back against the pillows. Mirae, curled up on her lap, clenched the hem of Leafsong’s blouse in her chubby fist drowsily.  Analith was sitting up against his mother, banging his wooden horse on the blanket with a demonic expression on his features, miniature replicas of his father’s. Aphel himself was sitting at the foot of the bed, bent over a hastily-tugged over chest, scratching away at a roll of parchment with a worn quill. His shoulders were hunched and his brow furrowed, the edges of the curling sheet pinned down with various GHE vials.

“Story time!” announced Leafsong loudly and abruptly, causing Mirae’s eyes to bug out in alarm. Pulling out “The Lost Little Saber” from beneath the pillow, she cleared her throat and ignored the derisive snort from her husband’s turned back. Analith dropped the abused horse and crawled over, his mouth hanging open in curiosity.

“Boo-aahh?”

“Yes, book time. Story time.”

Leafsong cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes at her husband, before opening the book at the earmarked chapter.

“And so, the little saber looked up at the green-haired kaldorei.

“Oh, please help me!” begged the little saber.

“Why should I help you?” replied the green-haired Kaldorei.

“Because I can’t find my way home!” bleated the saber, sadly.

The Kaldorei looked down at the saber, thoughtfully.

Alright, I’ll help you. For a flat thousand gold fee.”

The little saber’s eyes nearly popped out. “I can’t afford that! I don’t have that kind of money!”

The Kaldorei nodded, thoughtfully. “I’ll lend the thousand gold to you, with a twelve percent annual interest rate over three years, plus a thirty gold loan fee, cash up front- ”

Aphel let out a derisive snort, turning around and pushing his glasses up his nose.

“That’s not what the book says. You can’t even read it! You’re just making that up.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, defiantly. “Well, this book is crap. I’m just making it more interesting!”

“Interesting for you, maybe, goblin.”

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1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Aphel said,

    I’m still laughing! What a dickish move.


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