The Spell Failed and It Wasn’t the First

The spell failed and it wasn’t the first. Not the day’s first, and certainly not the week’s. Cringing in frustration, Red Kelp, dryad, tried again in haste — the spell failed. She tried again and again and again until, in tears, she kicked the cauldron over. The flames doused, the liquids splashed.

How long had this drought plagued? A week? Three weeks? More? She had always struggled with magic.

“I am fine.” Red shouted to a startled Strawberry, mermaid, her wife, her intensely magical wife, who had come to investigate the noise. Strawberry recoiled and said nothing. She turned around in the bubble of water holding her fish tail up and began to roll out of the room. “…Berry…” Red called out softly, her voice awash with deep regret.

The mermaid looked over her shoulder to the dryad, who had begun to cry.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t… I am sorry.” Silent tears flowing down her face, “I am sorry for snapping at you.”

“Do you want a hug or space?” the mermaid offered gently, biting her lip. “Hug please,” Red requested meekly.

Dryads are magical monsters and the spell Red was attempting was barely a spell — it tapped into dryadic natural connections, it was an elementary casting.

Red buried her face into her wife’s hair and exhaled as Strawberry’s strong arms squeezed tight. Here, she was safe. Here, she was powerful. The dryad lingered and the mermaid held on.

Red pulled away after several minutes, wiped the tears from her face, and began to clean up the magical mess. “Thank you,” she choked as Strawberry helped. “Always, my sweet roots,” the mermaid smiled reassuringly.

With a gentle kiss, the mermaid left her wife in the study. She would begin dinner as the dryad tried the spell again, and again, and again if necessary.

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