A discord-made prompted from Tergon
A wizard whose long, thin staff has a silvery, ephemeral thread wound around it. In the pockets of his robe are moths, butterflies, glowbugs, collected from across the land. He tells all who will listen that he is the greatest caster alive.
He is in fact a terrible wizard, he's just really into fishing. -- DaniAndShali
[AN: My Discord link is in the menu section of my hub site if you're interested in joining the shenanigans]
Words can squirm, under the right circumstances. Meaning becomes transmutative. Assumptions... inevitably cause trouble.
The traveler had to be a wizard. They had a strange robe beset with bizarre decorations that looked like every kind of insect. With the wide-brimmed hat and the odd staff, it was no surprise to hear them boast, "I am the best caster in these parts, bar none."
The trouble with assumptions began when they crossed paths with an actual Wizard.
Two pointy hats, and their owners. Facing each other across a gap between their two tables. Over the tops of their tankards of cider. All the scene needed was an echoing whistle to outline the tension in the chamber. The tavern maids dared not cross between those staring eyes. After all, a Wizard only needed to see something to cast a spell on it.
Finally, the silver-thread caster said, "Riverside. Dawn."
The other nodded, and the rest of the tavern breathed easier.
Dawn...
The one with the odd coat of insects tested the air. Tasted the river water. Examined the reflections of light on the water. Without looking, they reached for one of their decorations, and disengaged it from their robe.
The Wizard, watching them, tweaked a smirk. "Ah. That kind of caster." And without any further word, took off hir hat. Ze plunged hir arm inside, far deeper than it should have reached, and produced a similar rod to the other's.
"Nice trick," said the caster. Having finished their preparations, they whipped around their fishing rod and placed their fly exactly where they intended it to land.
The Wizard Wraithvine had a simple, unbaited hook. No elaborate movements nor loops of shining line were involved. Just the wind-up and a flick forwards. A plip as hook met water, and the line instantly tightened.
"Mine was prettier," grumped the caster.
[Photo by Roelof van Wyk on Unsplash]
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