Three Word Thursday, hosted by Quilly, is a challenge for writers to come up with a story using archaic words Quilly has mined from her various sources. If you play you can feel smart. If you continue to use the words in conversation, you can feel like the 911 for old words! This week's words:
- curglaff, n. the shock one feels when plunging into cold water
- auriferous, adj. gold-bearing; a stone bearing gold
- heimish, adj. Warm and comfortable; homey; folksy
The young boy peeked out of the woods into the clearing. He was sure that he had heard many voices in this clearing the night before. Letting his eyes wander, he could see where grass had been trampled down. A hush told him that even the birds were uneasy.
A gleam in the middle of the clearing caught his eye in the bright morning sunshine. Cautiously, he emerged from the cover of the trees and started toward it. He reached the source of the sparkle and marveled at the auriferous stone lying on the ground. It seemed to call his name with a loving tone - inveigling with a sweet voice. His head knew that this was a thing of magic and he should leave well enough alone, but the warm feeling was compelling his body toward the beautiful stone.
Slowly, he reached out to touch it. But before his hand actually connected with the rock, a shock like a curglaff pierced his hand and traveled up his arm. Instinctively, he jerked the arm away from the temptation and stumbled back.
"Strewth!" he whispered. "Tis heimish and inviting, yet the touch of it gives great offense!" Where his hand had almost touched the stone, there was a strange rune, almost like a brand, that glowed brightly against the tan of his skin. The small amulet he wore around his neck also glowed, as if it were in communication with the beautiful stone. He hesitated, began to reach again toward the stone, and then stopped. Clearly a battle was going on between temptation and fear.
Despite his youth, which usually caused his curiosity to trump his fear, this time fear triumphed. He turned and fled the clearing, certain that the Midsummer magic was too dangerous for the likes of him.
Miles away, the boy's mother saw the rune stone on her windowsill cease glowing and fade. "Good!" she thought. The amulet had protected him once again. Raising sons was difficult enough. In these days of magic, it was thrice dangerous and a mother needed all the help she could get!