Random Blurbs/Writing Snippets

Scrapped

In the end, you do not find him by seeking council from King Philza, though you are sure the king would've been happy to help. No, High Mage Sam is not working in the highest tower in a castle protected by the wealth of the kingdom, he hauls pounds of wheat on his shoulders to the market when he bumps into you.

High Mage Sam barely stumbles, fixing the bag on his shoulder as if it were a mere sea pup. You, on the other side, have fallen on your butt, still wary on weak human legs. "Oh dear, are you okay?"

"Fine, Sir Sam," You squeak as you wobble on your human legs. Honestly, how embarrassing to squabble such an impression on High Mage Sam. "My apologies for bothering you on this fine moon's eve. Though if I can, sir, I would like to ask your help."

High Mage Sam blinks, eyes glowing with something almost chemical. "You're merfolk."

"I am, good sir, the prince of my kingdom cursed to walk these lands." You think it'd be nice to simply tell it blunt and true. You get goosebumps as human's wind roughly push against you. It is light, up here, though it is far colder.

"You don't have to call me sir, we're pretty close in age." Sir Sam says, brows furrowed. Your words don't seem to have as much of an effect on him as they did on Knight Fundy, lacking all of the surprise and keeping a curious furrow in their brow. "So why were you looking for me?"

"I need your help returning to my kingdom, I was about to be announced as heir and if I do not return the title will be passed to my brother, the one who cursed me here." You try to ignore the thought that Sir Sam already knows enough about you to know your moon-cycles. Then the thought of the mage as your kin hits you and you flap your hands in lieu of your tail. "I have been told you are very skilled in the transformation between forms. I hope it's not presumptuous of me to assume you'd help."

Sir Sam tilts his head, frowning off at something in the distance. "I'm retired. I've got a kid now and I can't really... I'm sorry."

"Please, Sir Sam," You are above begging but not above crocodile tears. "The future of my kingdom may be in jeporady. You are my last hope."

"Don't cry," Sam instantly shushes, true parental instincts coming out the second someone cries. It's funny because the same thing happens to your step-mother. "Hey it's okay. I mean... maybe I can work with you to fix this."

"Really?" You sniff, jutting out your lip in a pitiful pout. You may be the same age but it's far more obvious where both of your skills lie. "Oh, Sir Sam, thank you so much!"

The mage smiles, running their hand through their hair. "C'mon, if I'm going to help you we should get started as soon as quickly."
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[Unfinished scrapped scene from a xreader I'm writing rn. Will be posted eventually.]