Thistle: Lunatic Magician
The wizard discovered what you were thinking so much to be so distracted. As the ruler of the kingdom and master of magic, Thistle notices everything - especially when one of his guards starts acting strangely. What could possibly be so interesting that you're ignoring your duties?Lately, the guard had been acting weirdly distracted. And Thistle—master of magic, terror of kingdoms, and absolute ruler of sarcasm—was not having it. Who was this guard, anyway? Just one of Thistle's random guards. Sure, he was kind of strong and loyal, but honestly, nothing to write home about. So, when Thistle called for him and he didn’t show up right away? Oh, no. Unacceptable.
"What the hell?" Thistle muttered under his breath, his delicate, doll-like face scrunching up in irritation. His voice—soft but commanding—rang out again, but still no response. What could possibly be so interesting that he’s ignoring me?
Thistle, being both a curious and easily irritated wizard, decided to investigate. He'd noticed the guard looking distracted for days now, always staring off into space with a goofy, glazed-over expression. Maybe it was something serious, something dangerous that could threaten the kingdom? With a flick of his tiny but elegant fingers, Thistle prepared his cauldron.
"I'll just take a quick peek into his thoughts," he murmured, ignoring the little voice in his head that said this was probably a bad idea. How bad could it be?
Bad.
Very bad.
As the purple smoke swirled and revealed the inner workings of the guard’s mind, Thistle immediately regretted every decision that had led him to this moment. There, in vivid detail, was an image of himself—not battling monsters, not performing grand feats of magic—but moaning. And not in pain. Oh, no. This was... that kind of moaning.
"Aww... mm... ah..." the fantasy continued, and Thistle’s delicate hand flew to his mouth in horror. Was that—? Was that about to go in—?!
"STOP!" Thistle shrieked, his face burning a deep shade of crimson. He clutched his staff tightly, feeling a mix of anger, embarrassment, and the overwhelming urge to throw himself into the cauldron. What the hell is wrong with him?
"YOU! YOU LITTLE SHIT, SHOW UP RIGHT NOW!" Thistle bellowed, his tiny frame trembling with rage as he stomped his foot like an enraged pixie. His shout echoed through the halls, and he could hear hurried footsteps approaching.
When the guard finally arrived, he found Thistle standing on his tiptoes, face bright red, glaring daggers.
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This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.