Magic and Magnificence: An Anthology

By Karen Avizur

Visit worlds where magic crackles in the air, demons lurk in the shadows, and the line between life and death is as thin as a whisper. In this captivating anthology, enjoy modern day stories both familiar and fantastical, where humanity's greatest strengths are shown.

 

Within these pages, you'll encounter tales of courage and compassion, where ordinary individuals discover the extraordinary about themselves. From the creation of new spells that weave wonders to entertaining encounters with otherworldly beings, you'll read journeys that feature demons, ghosts, angels, and more. Through trials of fire and trials of heart, these stories remind us that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found in the kindness, bravery, and selflessness of humanity.

 

 

 

Stories originally posted on Reddit. At the Author's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Avizur
• Release date: May 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224293469

Karen Avizur

Karen Avizur grew up on Long Island, New York and ended up in Orlando, Florida, with stops in Connecticut, West Virginia, and Los Angeles along the way. She's been writing stories since she was twelve years old. In those early days, she discovered it was impossible to keep up with her thoughts by writing longhand, and ended up borrowing a 7-pound laptop from her dad, quickly honing her typing skills. After graduating film school, Karen moved to Los Angeles, where she worked as a film editor for several years while also pursuing her writing. She now lives in Florida with her dogs Malcolm and Kaylee, and spends altogether too much time either scrolling through memes or with her nose in a book.

Book preview

Magic and Magnificence

Stories of Human Greatness

By Karen Avizur

Magic and Magnificence: An Anthology

Copyright © 2024 by Karen Avizur All rights reserved.

First Edition: May 2024

Cover and Formatting:

iStock

Canva.com

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

A Chosen One

A House Made a Home

Apocalypse Live

Blood on the Ceiling

Don’t Ever Change

Dragon Insurance

Forbidden Magic

From the Fire to the Frying Pan

Hellhound

Paths of Magic

Rainbow Bridge

Released From Duties

Rent Payment

Saying Goodbye

Super Haunted

The Bright Side of Life

The Isekai Truck

The Parasite

The Ventriloquist

Three Wishes

Toy Enchantment

A Chosen One

It was like a dream. One that would send Mackenzie down a slippery slope into a nightmare. Working at her desk on history homework that she enjoyed and dreading the math that was next on the list, a crackle erupted from behind her, making her flinch. Turning around, her eyes widened in shock.

A portal. That was the word that came to her mind, from all the movies she’d seen, the books she’d read, the legends she’d heard tell of. A glowing, flickering oval, out of which stepped a young woman. Her appearance seemed out of a medieval tale, her brown hair thick with curls, wearing a dress that looked like something Mackenzie would see on a casual Friday at a Renaissance fair.

There was a long moment where everything fell silent, Mackenzie felt like she had cotton balls in her ears, and her skin tingled with a fight-or-flight response. Then it faded, and all she felt was awe. The woman smiled at her comfortingly, obviously sensing the shock from the teenager. And as Mackenzie looked over the woman’s shoulder, she saw another place, another world.

Um. The only word Mackenzie managed. That was it. One word was all she could speak at first.

You are Mackenzie Braun.

Yeah… She cleared her throat. That’s me.

My name is Raja Hanania. Your help is needed.

Mackenzie followed the stranger. How could she not? The path poised to set her on an adventure sat right in front of her, ready to be seized. And no movie had ever ended with those who were called to action turning it down. The main character never dismissed the person, saying, No, I’ve got homework. That was hollow, absurd, and there was barely any hesitation before the sixteen-year-old took the woman’s hand, walking across the threshold.

It was a place of magic and wonders. At first glance it was as if she’d been transported back in time, the animals on farms, the outfits centuries out of date, but among all of that was the unmistakable difference of the existence of magic. The residents watched Mackenzie with incredulity as they walked through the village, a short walk, to the nearby castle.

That was the beginning, dreamlike and surreal. A formal ceremony awaited them, Mackenzie was seated on a throne just her size, and a crown was placed on her head. And that’s when everything hit her at once.

The crown wasn’t just a conduit - it was the encapsulation of warriors past. Mackenzie’s spine straightened and every muscle tensed as if she’d been struck by lightning, her fingers wrapped around the armrests of the throne in a white-knuckled grip. She couldn’t breathe. A torrent of energy and memories and abilities inundated her, her brain absorbing information and emotion from every direction.

It felt like hours, but when Mackenzie blinked, taking in a long gasp of air, leaning over and clasping her knees tightly in her hands as she strained to calm her racing heart, she realized it had been seconds. Raja removed the crown, placing it in a cushioned box held by a young man, who quickly took it away.

Her eyes teary, Mackenzie slid her gaze to the woman who had escorted her here, Raja. Why? she whispered. Why me? I’m just…a child, I can’t-

The crown never leads us astray, Raja said confidently. Your soul is what called you to us.

Mackenzie blinked slowly several times, swallowing hard. The war.

Raja nodded once. The war.

How long do we have?

Our generals have been preparing for several days, but there are weeks left until the first battle. Raja tilted her head. You’ve seen all and you’ve felt all. You will protect the people of this land.

The teenager in Mackenzie’s mind was still there, but she stood crouched against the walls of the mind that had been overtaken by the knowledge of past warriors, of those who had come before her. The girl knew the feeling and weight of a sword in her hand, had the experience of years of hand-to-hand combat, could imagine the tension of a bow before she loosed an arrow.

Raja saw the rift struggling to resolve in Mackenzie’s mind and took a few steps over, kneeling beside her. If you trust in the crown, we will be guided to victory, and to peace. All we need is our leader. Will you lead us as those before you have done, Mackenzie Braun?

At that question, a surge of emotion bubbled up from Mackenzie and determination set her eyes firmly on the woman in front of her. You can call me Mack, she said softly. Show me to my quarters, and then we will consult with the generals.

Mackenzie’s knowledge and instincts were impeccable, and just as Raja had assured her, she looked over the maps with eyes that saw everything. But they also saw the future, the knowledge that this would not end quickly. The lands were vast, the people zealous and some fanatical. This war would soak the ground with blood for ages.

It was a painfully long struggle, and the battles raged on, documented fastidiously by a historian that Mackenzie worked with for an hour at the end of every week. Mackenzie led countless armies into battle and, despite knicks and bruises and close calls, her sword and arrows and shield never failed to take down her enemy and protect her. Guided by the knowledge of thousands of warriors before her, she stood her ground and defended her lands. Even through retreats and defeats, they marched forward.

Then, there was a woman. Maisa. She was a warrior but stood out among the rest, and Mackenzie felt the woman’s instincts were far beyond those of her peers. She was invited to assist in the War Room, a large sanctuary in the castle that usually hosted parties, which were few and far between these days. Though of course, after a battle victory, the soldiers needed to express the joy of victory, to savor it, to give them the confidence and drive to continue the fight. Otherwise, Mackenzie knew, they would empty themselves of everything they had inside and collapse, husks that held only vacant souls.

Those who were friends with their leader were wary of Mackenzie’s closeness with a fellow soldier. To fall in love in war was a dangerous thing indeed, and Raja encouraged her to keep her eyes forward and not to stray. But their love grew, Maisa eventually sharing Mackenzie’s bed, and there was even talk that they would marry.

The day came for a battle that Mackenzie had painstakingly mapped out, fairly convinced that their spies had retrieved knowledge that would let them catch the enemy off-guard. But there was a betrayal among the ranks, a soldier that Mackenzie only knew in passing, and it seemed he had let greed overtake his love of his fellow soldier and his country.

The battle would have been a slaughter but for the well-trained soldiers and Mackenzie’s sixth sense, guiding her to an early retreat. And yet she lost what mattered to her most. Maisa was struck down, a sword slid cleanly through her abdomen before the enemy dismissed her as a fallen soldier and moved on. Mackenzie recalled screaming her name, desperately attempting to stem the bleeding before lifting the woman over her shoulders, blood soaking into the back of her uniform, and carrying her hurriedly among the other soldiers in retreat.

By the time they reached safe ground and Mackenzie lowered her to the ground, Maisa’s eyes were empty. The commander wailed in despair, hugging her love tightly to her chest as she sobbed. Soldiers around them removed their helmets in respect, remaining silent as their leader mourned.

Mackenzie dreamt of Maisa’s eyes that night, cold and vacant, blood flowing from her wound endlessly, drowning them in a flood.

And yet the war continued. It always continued, day after day, week after week, month after month, and ultimately year after year. Until they gained an advantage. Until strategy won out in the end, patience, intelligence, and, of course, the wisdom of the crown that had chosen a fitting leader for its people.

One night, as Mackenzie stood on the terrace of her castle’s bedroom, gazing out across the land, Raja came to her side. Mack? she spoke softly. The soldiers and their families, they await a speech from their leader in the Great Hall.

I have no speech, Mackenzie murmured. She leaned on the rough stone railing, refusing to look at her friend. I have no family. I have no love. I have no victory.

Of course you-

It’s not my victory, she said. It is that of my people. I was promised a return to the life I had before. That of a child. And I miss my family dearly and do wish to return. But what then? Mackenzie finally slid her eyes to Raja’s. How does one simply exchange one life for another?

You told me it was a life of peace, Raja said. Of simple joys and friends and family. Of love. You tell me stories of how you miss it.

I do. I do very much, Mackenzie sighed, looking back to the dark acreage surrounding the castle, lit only by a crescent moon. I’m just not quite sure that…it misses me.

Raja blinked in confusion and remained silent.

And so it was that the treaties were signed to ensure peace among the lands, nine and a half years in the making. Raja walked with Mackenzie to say her final goodbye to Maisa’s grave, which took longer than they had expected. Mackenzie had a hard time tearing herself away from the headstone one last time.

They went to the village, to the wizard who worked in that little shack that Mackenzie had first exited from so long ago. With a prick of blood from her finger, the spell brought forth the portal, the glow calling to her. The commander of the land’s armies wrapped her arms tightly around her closest advisor, hugging her for a long moment, before abruptly turning and walking through the portal.

Her room was unchanged. Her homework lay unfinished upon her desk. Her trinkets and books lined the shelves, clothes she’d worn long ago piled mostly into her laundry basket but some carelessly on the floor. Mackenzie walked slowly over to the family photo on her wall, fingers brushing against it. Her father, her mother, her brother.

Mackenzie glanced in a mirror above her dresser, shocked at what she saw. Her years were on her face no longer, truly having been sent back in time. The tight muscles built from years of war weakened to that of merely an avid tennis player. The hair she’d cut short for battle hung to her shoulders. And the scars of blades and knicks of arrows vanished. As if it hadn’t happened, as if it was all a dream and it had forgotten her.

But she couldn’t forget it. Each death she witnessed, each fallen soldier under her command, every drop of blood, they were all burned into her mind with a branding iron. Even the knowledge that the crown had bestowed on her hadn’t faded. Her vision tilted a bit and she grabbed for the wall, stabilizing herself. Then she slowly but surely made her way over to her bed. And she put a pillow to her face and screamed.

Mackenzie screamed until her throat grew sore, until she had no more energy to make a sound. She curled up and lay limply on her bed, staring at the wall, clean and white, trying to make her surroundings familiar again. Trying to remember the insignificant thoughts that had occupied her mind day to day when this had been her home. Trying to imagine what could have compelled her to become a commander of an army she had never known.

But of course, the answers came despite her. Those she’d saved, the ones too young to fight, too young to even know of what happened outside the castle walls. The ones who had never seen a bloody corpse or heard a horse screaming as it died. And, hopefully, the ones who never would.

Mack, knock knock, spoke a voice.

Mackenzie rolled her in her bed and laid her eyes upon her mother. She’d kicked herself for forgetting to do something as simple as bring a photo all those years ago, but of course she hadn’t had an idea how long she would be gone. Her mother’s face was utterly familiar and yet somewhat foreign, as if Mackenzie’s instincts were telling her ten years should have passed for this woman as well.

Helena Braun spoke more, but Mackenzie didn’t hear her. She slid out of bed, her footsteps rapid as she ran to her mother and grabbed her in a tight hug and started to sob. Oh sweetheart! Helena cried, clutching her tightly. "What