Page 1 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic

E LIKKI

T here. It’s almost perfect.” With a satisfied smile, I placed the final pair of earrings on the deep purple velvet of my booth’s tabletop.

I surveyed my work—shining pieces of jewelry spread out in front of me in an alluring mix of metals, stones, gems, and crystals.

The brass hairpins looked particularly pretty today, glinting in the bright daylight.

Not to be outdone, the quartz and silver necklace shone brighter, stealing my glance with a cheeky sparkle. “Show-off,” I muttered fondly.

After a couple more minor adjustments—straightening a bangle here, shifting a pendant there—I let out a contented sigh and looked up from my display for the first time in a half hour.

The market wasn’t in full swing yet. I had arrived early for once.

Early enough to snag a prime spot by the town square’s central fountain, thank the goddesses.

I desperately needed to make a few solid sales today.

With sunshine starting to poke out from behind the morning’s fluffy clouds and not a hint of rain in sight, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day.

The town of Povon, compact and tucked into the western edge of Willowisp Woods, was distinctly average in most ways.

But every day I’d spent here this week, I noticed more and more pops of unexpected beauty.

A bright mural of a lake in an otherwise drab alley.

Clusters of planted daffodils scattered throughout the town, poking up cheerily into the early spring air.

Intricate engraving around the whole of the square’s fountain, clearly the work of many days.

A handful of people walked about the square now.

Some picked up freshly baked loaves for their breakfast from the yawning bread maker.

Some headed straight to the fountain to wash clothes, pleasant chatter filling the morning air.

And some—the ones I had my eye on—wandered aimlessly around, browsing the vendors’ morning wares.

Those were the ones I wanted to draw over to my booth.

“Okay, girl. You’ve got this,” I told myself after taking a quick breath in and out.

I adjusted my red embroidered corset over my thick curves.

A glance in a hand mirror at my auburn hair and rosy cheeks, a second coat of pink lipstain, and a minor straightening of my booth’s wooden sign—now I was ready:.

J EWELRY BY E LIKKI was open for business.

Smiling politely at each townsperson who came within a fifteen-foot radius of my booth, I threw out compliments like my life depended on it.

“Look at you, shining like a new gold coin today! Love your energy!”

“A goddess walks among us! Your hair is stunning, wow.”

“Uh-oh, are you a thief? Because you’re stealing my breath away with that smile!”

I got laughs, grins, and more than a few pleased blushes for my efforts. People started to wander over and peruse my pieces. I sank into the rhythm of my favorite activities—making strangers happy and matching the right piece of jewelry to the right person.

First I sold an intricate gold cuff earring to a cute dwarf, discounting it heavily for the joy of her shameless reciprocal flirting.

And I thought I was good at pickup lines!

She outcharmed the charmer, and I adored it.

With a wink and a “Maybe I’ll see you at the tavern later?

” she strode off with a confident smirk, leaving me chuckling after her.

A set of musical copper bangles went to a shy young human next, his face lighting up at the sound they made as he jangled his wrist. The smile faded when I told him the price, making my heart squeeze.

So I told him it’s his lucky day—today was my monthly and definitely very real Half-price for Humans Deal!

Delighted with his find, he thanked me repeatedly and headed out in a happy daze.

The morning passed in a busy blur. Townspeople filled the square until it was a lively, bustling crowd.

Folks browsed booths like mine, travelers selling specialty pieces or practical homewares, while others gathered provisions for the week ahead.

Friends and couples strolled around companionably.

A few well-dressed, harried servants were shopping for their well-to-do employers.

A group of children played next to the fountain, where their parents could easily keep an eye on them.

It was loud and sometimes raucous—arguments breaking out here and there over high prices or unpaid accounts—but lovely all the same, and I soaked up the feeling of a new place, a new town.

The baker sold all his loaves by midmorning and packed up, but no matter—there were more vendors peddling delicious wares.

Carts and booths sold steaming hand pies, fruit-studded scones, and some kind of messy, mouthwatering local fried dough treat on a stick, swiped with a thick glob of dark jam.

I had just started to consider taking a break for my midday meal when another customer ambled up. A short human, he had greasy hair and a sneer that looked permanently fixed on his face.

“So how much for this?” he grunted, grabbing one of my pewter cuff bracelets.

They were a costly new design I was particularly proud of.

I’d inlaid the thick metal of each with large flat agate stones and carved runes of protection on the underside.

They took painstaking work to finish. I’d made only three so far, each one taking days to create, and had sold… zero.

“Five gold for that,” I replied with a sunny smile.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an extremely tall, broad person dressed in drab brown clothing, complete with a thick hood that hid their face.

For a moment I thought they were watching me.

But they were just carefully inspecting the hilt of a broadsword, nodding occasionally at the smithy’s sales pitch.

“Five?!” My customer’s loud scoff drew my attention back. “This isn’t worth five. I’ll give you one gold.”

He slipped the cuff on his hairy wrist, and I checked my urge to lunge across the table and snatch it back. It was not only an expensive piece, but it was also my favorite of the cuffs—a lovely cerulean agate that reminded me of the sea. I’d just finished it yesterday.

I took a calming breath.

Injecting a drop of venom into my normally sugar-sweet voice, I said, “The price is five. Five gold coins. With the high materials and labor cost that it takes to produce this kind of metalwork, I cannot accept less than that. The delicacy of the stone and the complex detailing of the runes takes—”

Clink . Clink.

“All right, enough.” He placed two gold coins on the velvet in front of me. “I’ve been watching you barter all day. How about I give you two, and you give me some of that cutesy shit you’ve been doling out to everyone else?”

I stared at him, momentarily stunned.

“I’ve seen you flirting, pushing up your tits, giving out discounts and smiles to everybody who bothers to throw some coin for the scrap metal you’ve got here.” He leered at me with a grin, eyes moving down to my chest. “Where’s my discount, huh?”

Suddenly a shadow fell over my booth.

“I think you should leave,” said a deep bell of a voice.

The hooded person loomed over us, focused intensely on the rude man. They shifted from side to side a bit, as if uncomfortable with speaking out loud. If they were trying to be intimidating, they weren’t doing a great job at it. The man barely glanced at him.

“Mind your own business, pal.”

Still ogling me, he picked up his two coins and grabbed my arm with his other hand, another oily smile plastered on his face.

Everything slowed down. As if from a distance, I heard the tall person shout brusquely and start reaching out as if to tear the customer’s hand off me. Half frozen, I felt a trickle of fire sparking in my chest, tendrils burning their way to my brain, down my legs, through my arms.

Fury. Burning fury shot through my veins.

With a half step, I yanked out of the rude man’s grasp.

Inhaling a sharp breath through my nose, I swept my right palm in an arc that came to a halt by my wide hips.

My gesture had raised every piece of jewelry on the velvet tabletop two feet into the air.

They hovered there, at the man’s eye level.

He paused, stock-still. Glancing around him at the metal, he hissed, “Calm down, elf.”

I raised my palm and squeezed it into a fist. My jewelry snapped to attention, soldiers to their general’s call, moving a few inches closer to the man and sparkling with malicious intent.

The hairsticks looked particularly menacing, sharp points directed right at his sweating face.

He backed away with a slow step. I smiled.

“Time for you to go.” I flicked the fingers of my other hand, sending his two gold coins back at him. He grabbed at them, missing, and they fell to the cobblestones.

Clink. Clink .

Then I twisted my wrist slightly, the motion tightening my pewter cuff that still encircled his wrist. Obeying the pounding drum of my fury, I twisted more…

more. I could feel my power so acutely in the man’s panicked face, his fragile limb in my invisible grip.

When I heard a small crack of splintering bone, I released my magic’s hold.

I gestured toward myself, and the cuff flew happily into my hand. “Good work!” I told it, and it warmed at my touch. I swept my right hand in a reverse arc, and all the jewelry drifted softly back onto their velvet.

The man had paled to a parchment white, gasping at the pain.

He scrabbled at the ground for his coins.

Staring around at the passersby, he shouted in disbelief, “Did you see what she did?! Did you see that nasty elf attack me?” Some watched him in disgust—they had seen the whole interaction.

Some began to look at me with suspicion. Most passed by with indifference.

I smiled sweetly at all of them. The crowd moved on. The man gave me one last look of hatred and fear, then staggered off out of the busy square. Once I knew he was gone, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

I began packing up my wares quickly, fingers shaking a bit.

I tucked the three cuffs away first. Then the hairsticks, taking comfort in their solidity and sharpness.

Then the earrings, the pendants, chains, bracelets, necklaces, and rings.

Mind racing, I rolled up the velvet cloth and secured my coin purse in my skirts.

Someone cleared their throat nearby. I looked up.

It was the tall one again. I hadn’t even noticed them still standing there.

They were like a big brown boulder, quiet and forgettable.

Even with my height of nearly six feet, they still towered over me and everyone else in the square.

They were at least seven feet tall, likely more.

A half-giant, perhaps? Sparks of my anger still lingered, and I glowered at them.

What had they been trying to do? Rescue me from that doofus?

Play the big strong protector? Thanks, but no thanks.

Now that they stood in front of me, only part of their face hid in the shadow of the thick hood they wore. I peeked up curiously.

Warm brown eyes gazed back, a deep smoky quartz. Soft lips, now wearing a slight frown, were a muted violet a few shades darker than the lavender skin. Yes, a half-giant man, from the looks of it. My mind blanked for a few moments.

As I came back to, he cleared his throat uncomfortably again and looked away. I shook myself and tried to rouse the annoyance I felt a minute ago. It didn’t come, but I snapped anyway, “You didn’t have to step in, you know. I was handling myself fine.”

He considered me quietly for a moment. “You’re right. I should have asked if you needed assistance first. I apologize.”

“Well… good,” I replied.

“Good,” he repeated.

We stood there awkwardly, seconds passing.

He looked at me with a steady gaze, as if he wanted to say something else.

My skin prickled with sudden warmth as we watched each other.

I felt aware of my breath, the tight stays of my corset, my palms still tingling with magic.

Our eyes were caught. The noises of the marketplace faded, and I felt like one of my jewelry pieces just minutes ago—frozen in the air, poised to fly.

As I opened my mouth to introduce myself, he blinked rapidly and strode away.

After a second of shock—and perhaps a small twinge of disappointment—I shook myself into action again. I gathered my things, did a last visual sweep of the booth, then headed in the opposite direction with a huff, in search of a well-deserved meal.