Chapter 3: The Spell Beneath the Bench

The Zareethian Realm shimmered with the golden glow of twilight as Felix the Dragon stood atop a hill, scanning the horizon. A wave of untamed magic had rolled through the air moments ago, sharp and chaotic, drawing him here. He narrowed his eyes toward a small clearing where a battered wooden bench stood—though “stood” was a generous description. It leaned precariously, as though it bore the weight of a grand mistake.

Two creatures were at the heart of the disturbance. One, perched atop a glowing, ancient spell book, radiated fury. Its many legs bristled as it waved a tiny fist at the other, who crouched guiltily by the bench’s edge, clutching a yellow crayon like it was evidence of their crime. Large headphones sat askew on their head, and their downcast eyes shimmered with shame.

“You had one job!” the book-perched sibling snapped, their voice sharp and accusing. “ONE! And look what you’ve done!”

“I didn’t mean to…” the crayon-clutching sibling murmured, their voice trembling. They glanced at the glowing, swirling ground beneath the bench and flinched as sparks of magic flared. “I just wanted to draw something pretty.”

“Pretty?! You call THIS pretty?!” The furious sibling stomped on the open spell book with their small, shoe-clad feet, causing it to glow brighter. Symbols flickered and pulsed on the pages, casting eerie light on the bench and its surroundings.

The bench groaned under the strain of the spiralling, iridescent tiles forming beneath it. Liquid magic seeped through the cracks in the earth, pooling into a kaleidoscope of colours that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Stop yelling at me, Glint!” the guilty sibling finally snapped, their voice breaking.

Glint narrowed their eyes. “Oh, now you have a voice? Where was that voice when you decided to scribble all over ancient runes?!”

The ground quaked as the portal beneath the bench expanded, its glow intensifying. The air buzzed with the hum of unsteady magic. Before the siblings could argue further, a massive shadow swept across the clearing, and a gust of wind sent scattered pages flying.

Felix the Dragon landed with a resounding thud, his golden eyes piercing through the chaos. His gaze shifted between the siblings and the glowing portal, taking in the scene with growing irritation.

“What,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “have you two done?”

The crayon-wielding sibling froze, their wide eyes darting to the ground. “It wasn’t my fault,” they mumbled, clutching the crayon tighter. “It was the book.”

“The book?” Glint hissed, turning to glare at their sibling again. “Don’t you DARE blame the book! This is ALL your fault, Scribble!”

Felix sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his snout with one claw. “Glint. Scribble. Enough.”

Both creatures fell silent, though Glint’s legs twitched with pent-up frustration. Scribble, still holding the crayon, looked as though they wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

Felix stepped closer to the glowing portal, the swirling magic reflecting off his metallic scales. “You’ve opened a doorway,” he muttered, his voice tinged with concern. “And it’s not a friendly one.”

“A doorway to what?” Scribble whispered, their voice barely audible.

“To trouble,” Felix replied. “Big trouble.”

As if on cue, the portal flared with a blinding light, and a low, resonant hum filled the air. Shadows twisted and shifted within the glowing spiral, their forms unsteady and alien. The siblings clung to each other now, their earlier squabble forgotten in the face of whatever they had unleashed.

Felix spread his wings, shielding the twins as the portal’s energy surged. “Stay behind me,” he commanded, his voice firm.

For once, neither Glint nor Scribble protested. They huddled together, their small forms trembling as the portal grew brighter. Whatever lay beyond the doorway was about to reveal itself, and Felix could only hope they were ready for what was to come.