Creative writing prompt 1st March

In the middle of a small town, which itself was situated in the middle of a country, sat a pub called ‘The Dancing Dragon’. It was not a large pub, but it was well known and liked by all in the local neighborhood, mainly due to its fine drinks and friendly atmosphere. On one particular night in the middle of the month of the moon, three men were sat within said pub drinking mead and reminiscing about their lives.

One was an adventurer who traveled the land, fighting formidable beasts and discovering never before seen sights. Another was a middle aged lord, the lord of the very town in which the pub was located, and the last was a young sorcerer’s apprentice, garbed in robes, looking quite forlorn. They had met only on this night, but the large quantity of alcohol consumed as well the general atmosphere of the place had made them well disposed to become friends with more or less anyone. So the three had sat down at a table and promptly become the best of mates for this one night and one night only, after which they were all well aware that they’d probably never the see the others at their table again.

“What a life!” the adventurer exclaimed vigerously. “I was fightin’ a disgustin’ great lizard *hic* a wee while ago, an’ now ‘ere I am ‘avin a drink with you fine lads.”

“Oh yes!” The lord replied with equal gusto, thrusting his flagon into the air. “I spent my whole day signing papers and squabbling with that stubborn *hic* baron who rules nearby, and now here I am in this pub. How fast life changes… *hic*”.

The sorcerer’s apprentice said nothing, but brought his flagon to his mouth, smiling slightly at the others’ tomfoolery.

The night deepened and the atmosphere in the pub became more boisterous, a band of men at a table not far away were all crying their eyes out and another bunch had all risen and were swaying back and forth, arm in arm, singing a song that none of them seemed to remember the lyrics to. The adventurer and the lord had all drunk an awful lot and were thoroughly drunk, the sorcerer’s apprentice, although not having drunk as much, appeared much less gloomy and was nodding his head vaguely in time to the singing men in the background.

“Aye, we all *hic* hate our jobs we do.” Said the adventurer, gesticulating wildly with his flagon and spilling mead all over himself. “But when it comes down to it, *hic* I wouldn’t be happy doin’ anythin’ else!”

“Hear hear!” cried the lord, and took a lengthy swig from his flagon. Wiping away some froth from his mouth he continued, “I might *hic* complain about the old codger over yonder,” His free hand flailed as he struggled to point in the right direction, “But I don’t *hic* think he’s that bad really. Truth be told *hic*, I reckon I’d get rather lonely without him.” He took another long drink from his flagon and then smashed head first into the wooden table, snoring contentedly with a slight smile on his lips.

“An’ what about you lad” The adventurer said, pushing away one of the lord’s arms which had landed on his lap. “You’ve ‘ardly *hic* spoken all this time, what’s it that’s botherin’ ye?”

The sorcerer’s apprentice put down his flagon, the air of misery that had disappeared, began to descend upon him again. “I, err…” He stuttered, “well, I’ve been apprenticed to master Sofchweild for a good few years now…”

“Master Sofchweild!” The adventurer exclaimed, dropping his flagon which hit the floor with a clatter. “He’s that one that *hic* did all that at the capital a while ago?”

“Ah yeah,” the sorcerer’s apprentice grimaced, “he’s the one. I was the best at my academy and so got the chance to become his apprentice, you know how at academy it’s all theory and no practical? Yeah, well I was the best at theory, got full marks in almost every test.”

The adventurer nodded appreciatively and blurted out, “I remember when I was *hic* out on a mission once, one o’ me teammates never did *hic* stop complainin’ about the theory, said he never understood half o’ it.”

The sorcerer’s apprentice chuckled, “well, the theory’s not been helping me much now, master says that in order to actually perform magic, it’s all about the feeling, you’ve got to ‘feel it right, before you can do it right’ he says.” He looked down at the table and became silent. The adventurer seemed not to mind and bent down to retrieve his flagon before hailing over a waiter and asking for more mead. It arrived a couple of minutes later and he sipped at it, hiccuping and humming tunelessly as he did.

“I just don’t get it!” the sorcerer’s apprentice bust out suddenly. The adventurer looked at him over the top of his flagon, “I’ve looked through all the books in master’s possession and have even gone back to the academy to browse the library there, but I’ve found nothing! I actually can’t use magic!” he began to sob quietly. “Master never says anything about it but I know he must be thinking about stopping my apprenticeship, everyone else has been able to use magic for years.”

The adventurer began to chuckle and then, after a moment, he began to laugh, a loud, booming laugh that rang throughout the entire pub. “Lad…” he tried to say something, but then started laughing again. The sorcerer’s apprentice looked at him, feeling rather affronted to have his troubles laughed at. “Lad,” the adventurer started again, “everyone can use magic!” he was looking the sorcerer’s apprentice right in the eyes, “I mean, I can beat up nasty great monsters that’re ten times the size o’ me! If that don’t count as magic then nothin’ does.” He took a great swig from his flagon and stood up, the sorcerer’s apprentice couldn’t help but notice that he was swaying unsteadily on his feet.

“Magic can’t be found in all those silly books…” his eyes were wide and he was still staring at the sorcerer’s apprentice as he swayed. He then bent over the table and, putting one hand on the table to steady himself, poked the sorcerers apprentice in the middle of his chest. “Magic,” he said, his words starting to slur together, “comes from inside,” the sorcerer’s apprentice could smell alcohol strongly on his breath and leaned his head back slightly, “The magic…” the adventurer’s eyes were half lidded at this point and he seemed about to pass out, “is in you!”. Having said this he slumped down on the table next to the lord who was still snoring and joined him in his dreamland, snoring contentedly alongside him.



This was written for Creative Writing Inc’s Creative Writing Inc prompt competition, if you want to check it out, you can do so using this link:



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