Witches Just Wanna Have Puns by Virginia Nelson

Author:Virginia Nelson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Virginia Nelson

Cav

When Juliana’s breathing evened out, he realized she actually had managed to fall asleep. He envied her a little, both because he was tired and because his stomach still churned with anxiety. Time slipped by, and his mind wandered. He needed to stay awake, so he couldn’t close his eyes, but he could try to process things—think clearly, maybe.

The struggle felt familiar—after all, his relationship with anxiety went way back. His home life hadn’t been ideal, so he was young when he first experienced the clawing feeling of anxiety choking off his words. Like an invisible beast which climbed up from his throat, cutting off his ability to breathe, to think, to act. It came at the worst times—sitting on the bus, and the bully giving him a hard time? Anxiety is there. Time to give a speech? Anxiety came along for the ride! Tell someone how he felt? Yeah, that wasn’t happening with anxiety at the wheel.

As he got older, the anxiety got worse. He worried about everything. And the world? Well, it offered up more and more things to be anxious about. It seemed every news cycle popped up a whole crop of things to worry over, none of which he could change or even alter a little.

In a world with magic, even they were sometimes caught in the follies of mortals.

No spell took away his fears, but he learned to live with them. He found things he could do in his community which gave him a sense of helping, if only a little. He volunteered when he could find the time, and he found balance most days.

Most days, he didn’t hold himself responsible for the lives of his friends, though. Despite Juliana’s words, he did hold himself responsible for their current plight.

As if using Message or some other communication spell, Amoeba’s voice rang through Cav’s mind with surprising clarity.

Dungeon masters have god powers. It’s important.

He told Juliana he was responsible because he was the dungeon master, didn’t he? Everyone else had stuff from their character sheets—items, skills, even appearances. Shouldn’t he, too, retain some of his in-game gifts?

But he didn’t have a character sheet.

That didn’t matter. Dungeon masters never have character sheets.

It didn’t diminish their power. At the end of the day, a dungeon master decided the fate of the party, with the ability to make encounters easier and call games to a close. He should stick with the rolls of the dice, but it was up to him to decide whether or not something harmed his party, right?

As gently as he could, Cav shifted until Juliana rested against the frame of the doorway. She looked so exhausted, but still really pretty. Her breathing remained even, and he stroked a bit of hair out of her face.

Her pretty eyeshadow was a bit smeared, her bright hair wisping free of its restraints, but in rest…she was lovely. He hoped he’d get a chance to explore his growing interest in her, but first, he needed to get his party out of the game.

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