K. Wallace
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The Last Mage
There weren't always dragons in the valley. Then again, there wasn't always Calliope Fogg. Now, when dealing with the tale of Calliope Fogg, I find it's always best to start not from the beginning, but nearly. The unusual girl appeared on my doorstep on the eve of Rendreley's midsummer festival with a scrawny human boy in tow. A funny looking thing, he was. Glasses so thick his eyeballs looked three sizes too big for his head and cinnamon colored hair that stood in every direction but flat. I could tell his origins immediately by his overwhelming stench, like raw onions and day old fish. They arrived before the sun had time to crest the horizon, looking bedraggled and filthy from their nobs to their toenails, several of which were poking out of their tattered shoes. Calliope's wildly unruly mane could have been harboring a mischief of rats for all I could tell and their garments were worn so thin a more modest woman would have blushed at the sight of them. Had I not been expecting her – for quite some time, I might add – I would have shooed them away without a second thought. Granted, the boy was an unexpected addition but one look into Calliope's steady gaze told me all I needed to know; the two were a package deal and I would hear the story soon enough. As it were, I ushered them in and immediately set to cleaning them up and feeding their growling bellies. Thank heavens, I even had a tonic to cloak the human's smell. It was hardly the poor boys fault after all.
By K. Wallace4 years ago in Fiction
The Last Mage
“I am Calliope Fogg, born under the Dragon Blood Moon of the Vernal Equinox in the sacred Mondovian forest of the kingdom of Rendreley. I am the daughter of Delilah Fogg, granddaughter of Zephinia Fogg. I am the keeper of the red flame and the last mage.”
By K. Wallace4 years ago in Fiction
The Apocalypse Isn't Too Bad
The thing I miss the most about the world before things went to shit is New York style pepperoni pizza with a dewy can of Coca-Cola. I think about all the times I grabbed a napkin to soak the pooled oil from a slice. I wouldn’t bother with that now. Give me all the pepperoni flavored oil you got. I would drink it from a cup just to get close to the flavor.
By K. Wallace5 years ago in Fiction
