I never wanted to go and see Oron the Wizard. But I had been summoned, and so could not refuse.
The corridor that led to his dusty laboratory was full of bizarre paintings of heads. I shivered.
"Admiring my portraits?"
I wasn't. I didn't like them. I felt they were watching me. They were too real. Too human. But I couldn't say that to the wizard. Instead, I asked,
"Who are they?"
Wrong question.
"Why don't you ask them?"
Blackness, followed by blinding light.
The next thing I knew I was stuck in, and staring out, of my own portrait.
* * *
[This piece of flash fiction can also be found in Embrace Night and Other Stories, here on Wattpad]
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Chronicles of The Craft - vol 3 [COMPLETE]
ParanormalDo you know what lingers there in the morning mists? And what of that which haunts the stretch between brook and forests edge? (From The Boundary Brook) * * * This is the third volume of Chronicles of The Craft. Within you will find thirteen stori...
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