The Cursed Creation

So you can tell that I’m back in the swing of things because I post this in a timely enough manner that I actually remember which word was mine (yay!).

Forge (my word), hoard, buzz,

It was sundown before the smith’s apprentice boy ran up and informed Jayden that the item he had commissioned was ready. Jayden followed the boy down to the forge, watching the shadows deepen. The vague worry that they hid something sinister sharpened with each step. He couldn’t see them, and had no way to prove it, but he knew they were close. They had found him.

He could do nothing but hurry the apprentice along. The soft light of the lantern spilled from the large doors, night bugs buzzing in lazy circles.

The smith was a large man with a close-cropped beard. He was seated by the fire, his broad shoulders bent, and frown on his face as he stared down at the wrapped package on his lap. He stood quickly when the apprentice cleared his throat, both glad and anxious to see Jayden.

“I have what you asked for,” he said, and held out the package, dropping it into Jayden’s hand as if it were hot.

Or cursed, Jayden thought, and smiled.

He handed over the price, the last of his share of the dragon’s hoard, but it was worth it. Now, he thought. Now they can come.


❤ DragonBeck

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