Fantasy Words Novels & Stories

Mother hummed and rubbed my back once I created my first word after listening to all the sounds each 'letter' made. Creed. "This is perfect, Creed. You just wrote your name in writing called 'English.' It is from another realm but has the same sounds as we do in our dragon tongue. Just different symbols." My eyes grew wide. "Another realm? What is it like there?" My curiosity became the best of me as I listened intently. My hand gripped the quill causing it to break.

I’m not one for violence, but I like to imagine I’d be stabbing through social vices and oppression, discrimination between races and the sort. My graze against the pages seems to act as some kind of magic key as the letters flash golden, like real actual magic, and just like before, the words begin to morph. They glitch across the pages until they settle for words that somehow make sense to me. My brain deciphers it as if I’ve known the language all my life. The words Astria tribe flickers, and more words become more readable. ‘The cursed tribe of human warriors that wielded magic like witches themselves, offering up their hearts to demons in exchange for strength against the wolves.’

he questions. I nod my head. "Yes," I say again. "I've always loved reading." "Book," he says in a gruff voice. "Liffatin. Can you repeat that back to me?"Liffatin," I repeat. "That's a beautiful word. You know, back in my kingdom there was a little shop called a library and it harbored many, many books. Some were sad, some were happy, some were full of action and tales of courageous princes and princesses, fictional tales of fire-breathing dragons and fairies and demons. A book is where imagination takes flight."

She starts to utter strange incantations and spell in a strange language even to her, a spells she mayn’t have known the meaning without her spell grimoire… Awn ard: Eywros a gorsed, Naweth gwindwyth aedhmi’m hil, awen clwym i’m fwyd, rhyvenen i’m gwareth. Awn deif i fawr: Mithruin gwein ich heulwch—mewn symud yd a chymy, awen i’r donn. Rhu’s sarafad, uwel hethrai, awen i llygadwaith y Lleiaf:

The words seemed to leap off the page, filling the room with an eerie sense of foreboding. Everything written in the book didn't make any sense to either Stella or Morgan. They found everything in the book quite absurd. The book spoke of witches, dragons, angels, vampires, and the devil. They didn't believe in such a thing at all, weren't they just fantasy? If they were to interpret it, it only meant that Grandma Elizabeth was a witch while the stranger guy whom Stella had picked from the streets the previous night was the devil.

As my story has developed, I have added in a Fae language. Since the story lines follow ancient Greek gods and goddesses, I have used ancient Greek for the Fae language and Latin for witch's spells. I might as well put all those high school Latin lessons to use. Truth be told, I love languages, especially my own native language, Māori. I did think of adding that into the story line as the Fae language, but I didn't think it fitted as well as Ancient Greek.

And as wе walkеd away, hand in hand, I couldn’t hеlp but fееl a glimmеr of hopе, knowing that our journеy had just bеgun. As Frеya lay thеrе, hеr body battеrеd and brokеn, a glimmеr of darknеss flickеrеd in hеr еyеs. With a trеmbling hand, shе tracеd intricatе pattеrns in thе air, calling forth thе vеry еssеncе of forbiddеn magic. Thе air cracklеd with an ominous еnеrgy, as if thе vеry fabric of rеality was bеing warpеd by hеr dark еnchantmеnt.

I knew it. I opened it and flipped through the pages until I landed a fourth of the way through. This version was in English, but more of an Old English. Some of the words were a little foreign to me and yet I was still able to understand. The page I landed on stuck out like a sore thumb and I knew there was no way I just happened upon it by chance. ‘Unbinding spell. To return something that has been taken…’

“Please.” You just keep repeating that word like it has no meaning.” His voice had gotten deeper, rougher, and I could imagine him narrating an erotic audiobook.“I don’t know!” I answered.Spank.I gasped.“You do.” He rubbed the place in which his hand had landed and continued talking. “Now tell me.”I bit my lip, and I felt another spank, then a rubbing. “OKAY!” I screamed. “The wand. I like the wand.”“Good puppy.” His hand went to my cheek and rubbed it. “You see? It wasn’t that hard.”I nodded.“Now open your mouth.”

Until dawn crept through the curtains. Until the package arrived. Until tomorrow became today. And the fantasy The forbidden, addictive, all-consuming fantasy Became forever. Fade out on the snow. On two new passports lying open on the dresser. On two gold bands glinting in the wea k morning light. On her moan soft, satisfied as he whispered against her skin: “The fantasy never has to end.”