There is only one and a half fortnights left until the end of this semester at the King’s College. My elves are busy working on their final project. They are to present an event from the past in a creative manner. ‘Twill be interesting to see their attempts at creativity. They have a list of ten choices of manner of presentation.
Some of the ogres have received owls and pigeons from me, telling them what they must do if they do not want to spend another year with me; learning our great kingdom’s past once again. Many have sent owl after owl with missing scrolls and inquiries. I have taken hours pouring over those scrolls this past week. There was the mother of one ogre who tried to intimidate me, pounding her chest mightily. She stopped when I sent an owl to drop a scroll on her head to explain why her claims were wrong and a detailed diagram of how I knew. Alas, her ogre refuses to rewrite the spell that she messed up on her exams. The spell was so off that it did not even bring back spirits from the right time period. She was off by a thousand years.
I didst also have an encounter with a hag this week. She’d left messages on the blue fairy box demanding that others return to their employ, despite the plague. She cried that she could not enjoy food made by others, nor would anyone massage her feet for her. Alas, her husband obviously does not love her enough to do either, for she claimed that he did. When I pointed out that having someone massage her feet during a plague would mean spreading the disease from her to the other person could kill them, or spread it to others, she declared she did not care. For that was their choice of employ. Truly, ’tis a night hag bent on harming others, for they were not as important as her wanton desires. When she learned of my disdain for her, she didst challenge me to a fight. She showed up to this fight with a kitchen knife. Truly, twas not a challenge for my long sword nor spells. She cried that ’twas not a fair fight and tried to run away. Alas, I had to slay her for the good of the kingdom, ’twas only right.
I shalt be taking the end days of the week to clean my hovel and work upon my writings. I will also observe the new play I found through mine magic mirror, Stan Against Evil. If only the history they relayed weren’t so egregious. Yet, I find myself liking the characters.
The Middle-Aged Single Fantasy Witch 