Tefopn Stories

Some are born ordinary. Some are raised to follow rules. And then there's him. Mischief seems to follow like a second shadow-quiet at first, then impossible to ignore. Or maybe he is just the mischief himself. It's never quite clear if he's the cause or just conveniently nearby. Either way, it was decided he should go. His punishment? Exile To be thrown to where? A world without magic. Here, everything stays still. The lights don't flicker with mood. Doors behave like doors. People are alarmingly calm about pencils that just sit there. He is expected to adapt. Blend in. Write about his days in a journal that doesn't whisper back. The rules are firm: Do not use magic. Do not attempt to use magic. Do not think about using magic. If something accidentally sparkles, pretend it didn't. If something floats, un-float it immediately. Magic is not welcome here. Not even a little. He's trying. Really. But strange things have a habit of finding him. Even here. Even now. Even when he's not looking for them.