My mana—along with most of my confetti—was nearly depleted after accidentally conducting an orchestra instead of, say, conducting business affairs.
The grove was a welcome silence after the chaos I’d just escaped. The orchestra I accidentally conjured had followed me for days, turning every minor decision into a dramatic overture. Ordering soup? Trumpets. Tying my boots? Violins. As much as I liked having my own theme song, things got dicey once they started busking—and one tried to charge me for a crescendo. That’s when I knew the show was over.
What replaced their music was no less magical: reaching into an amber-streaked sky was a towering tree, standing before me. Thankfully, it wasn’t sitting down—that would’ve been weird. Its sprawling branches filtered the light into golden ribbons, and fastened across its ancient trunk were scrolls and notices, bound by ivy and time. They trembled ever so slightly—not from wind, but as though stirred by the tree’s own breath, exhaling secrets inked in sap and memory… or sighing over centuries of unread résumés.
The ink began to swirl across the parchment. A whisper in the wind spoke of forgotten lore. But just before the final rune appeared…
🧙♂️ Side Quest: Acquire the Infinite Spellbook
Every good mage needs a grimoire—somewhere to stash half-finished incantations, character scrolls, and a cursed recipe or two.
We use Scrivener, the spellbook of choice for longform storytellers. It organizes chaos, binds scattered parchments, and keeps plot dragons at bay.
If your stories are bursting out of boring old notebooks, maybe it’s time to level up.