Osric landed on the wooden floor of Wulfric’s workshop with a heavy thud. He laid there for several moments, his breath rapid and panting, before he realized he wasn’t dead. He opened his eyes and saw a ripe red apple with a large bite taken out. A bit of silver gleamed from beneath the flesh of the fruit. He took two bites from either side and freed the enchanted ring.
Osric sat up and realized where he was. He turned to look around, and standing against the far wall was Wulfric, that funny imitation of a smile on his face once more. Sitting next to him with an unmistakably witless canine grin was the Husky. Floating above the dog was Lavender, resplendent in a long dress made from purple silk.
“Was it real?” Osric asked.
“Every bit of it,” Wulfric replied.
“So Lavender was in on the plan from the beginning?”
“He calls you Lavender?” Wulfric asked her.
“It was shorter than faerie tongue for ‘the daughter of the faerie queen and keeper of the sapphire crown,’” Lavender said. “Besides, I like it.”
“You have completed your apprenticeship,” Wulfric said. “From now on, you will be known by the guild as ‘Osric the Traveler.’ The ring is yours.”
Osric looked at the ring. It was now polished and gleaming, with the seal of the Magician’s Guild engraved upon it. He placed it on the third finger of his right hand, and the happiness of freedom filled his heart and mind.
— THE END —
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