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Chapter One
"A Magic of MAgic and Magic"

In the whimsical land of Prismania, where rainbows danced across the sky and even the rocks and dirt thrummed with magical energy, two factions had been locked in a bitter rivalry for centuries: the Sparklemancers and the Hexinators. The Sparklemancers, known for their love of glitter and their tendency to burst into spontaneous musical numbers, were the sworn enemies of the Hexinators, who preferred to sulk in the shadows and compose angsty poetry.


I, Enchantia Spellbound, affectionately known as Tia to my friends and family, and as “that glitter-obsessed girl” to my rivals, was a young Sparklemancer, born into a long line of illustrious light magic practitioners. 

From the moment I could walk, and accessorize, I had been tutored in the art of wielding my powers with finesse and grace, learning to conjure dazzling displays of shimmering beams and incandescent bursts that could illuminate even the darkest of nights. However, alongside my magical training, I had also been instilled with a deep-rooted distrust of the Hexinators, a faction of dark magic users renowned for their somber dispositions, affinity for all things shadowy and mysterious, and their complete lack of fashion sense.

As I navigated the enchanted streets of Luminos, the resplendent capital city of the Sparklemancers, I couldn’t help but marvel at the wonders that surrounded me. The city was a testament to the Sparklemancers’ power and prestige. From soaring towers that gleamed like polished gemstones, and made for excellent selfie backdrops. To enchanted fountains that trilled whimsical melodies, and occasionally dispensed glitter instead of water. 

The air itself sparkled with motes of luminous energy, and everywhere I looked, I saw evidence of my people’s magical prowess and their penchant for bedazzling everything in sight. From the iridescent flowers that bloomed in every window box to the shimmering cobblestones beneath my feet, which made walking in heels a bit treacherous, Luminos was a city that radiated light and magic in equal measure.

I was headed for the Prismatic Pegasus, a popular tavern among the city’s magical denizens. As I pushed open the door to the tavern, I was greeted by a dizzying array of sounds and sensations. The air was thick with the aroma of spiced mead, the occasional whiff of burnt hair from magical mishaps, and the chatter of patrons, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the clink of glasses. The walls were adorned with enchanted tapestries that depicted scenes of legendary Sparklemancers performing incredible feats of magic, and looking fabulous while doing so. While floating orbs of soft, multicolored light illuminated the space with a warm, inviting glow, and provided excellent mood lighting for impromptu karaoke sessions.


I wove my way through the crowd, nodding and smiling at familiar faces, and discreetly using my magic to fix any fashion faux pas I spotted, as I made my way to the bar. I had come to the Prismatic Pegasus in search of information, hoping to glean some new insight into the advanced light magic techniques I had been studying, and to scout out potential accessories to match my family’s ancestral amulet. The tavern was a popular gathering place for Sparklemancers of all levels of experience, and I knew that if anyone could point me in the right direction, or towards the nearest underground glitter rave, it would be one of my fellow patrons.


As I settled onto a stool at the bar and signaled to the bartender for my usual order, a glitter-infused, rainbow-hued concoction that was as delicious as it was sparkly, my attention was suddenly drawn to a group of Sparklemancers huddled together at a nearby table. They were speaking in hushed, urgent tones, their faces etched with worry and concern, and a few stray specks of glitter. Intrigued, I strained to catch snippets of their conversation over the din of the tavern, and the occasional spontaneous musical number.

“…Hexinators…Ultima Magicanum…could change everything…and ruin our annual pride parade!”


My eyes widened in shock, causing a few glitter particles to dislodge from my lashes, and I felt a chill race down my spine. The Ultima Magicanum? The legendary artifact said to grant ultimate power over both light and dark magic, and possibly even control over the world’s glitter supply? It couldn’t be…

Abandoning my drink, and leaving a trail of sparkles in my wake, I hurried over to the table, my heart pounding in my chest. As I approached, one of the Sparklemancers looked up, and I recognized my childhood friend, Lumina Starsparkle, known for her dazzling light shows and her uncanny ability to make even the most boring robes look fabulous.

“Tia!” Lumina exclaimed, her voice tinged with relief , and a hint of envy at my impeccable fashion sense. “Thank goodness you’re here. Have you heard the news?”

I shook my head, a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach, along with a few butterflies, which were probably just a side effect of the glitter cocktail. “No, what’s happened?”

Lumina glanced around the tavern, as if afraid of being overheard, or spotted by the fashion police, then leaned in close and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s the Hexinators,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “They’re searching for the Ultima Magicanum! And worse, they’ve been spotted wearing black cloaks with no sequins or embellishments!”

My breath caught in my throat, along with a gasp of horror at the thought of such drab attire, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. The Ultima Magicanum…if the Hexinators were truly seeking it, the consequences could be catastrophic. The balance of power in Prismania could be upended, plunging the land into an age of darkness, despair, and fashion disasters.

“What can we do?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady, and my purple hair from frizzing out of control due to the stress. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my palms were slick with sweat, which was really putting a damper on my sparkly manicure. The news of the Hexinators’ search for the Ultima Magicanum had shaken me to my core, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of impending doom.

“We Sparklemancers have to find the Ultima Magicanum first,” Lumina replied, her green eyes blazing with determination, and reflecting the dazzling array of lights in the tavern. She clenched her fists, I could see the magical energy crackling around her fingertips, and a few stray sparkles dancing in the air. “We have to stop the Hexinators from unleashing its power on the world and forcing everyone to wear black!”

My heart sank at her words. Stopping the Hexinators was no small feat; they were a powerful faction, with countless resources and allies at their disposal, and a seemingly endless supply of boring, unadorned robes. They had been our rivals for centuries, and their mastery of dark magic, and their ability to resist the allure of glitter, was unparalleled. The thought of going up against them made my stomach churn with fear, and a sudden craving for comfort food, like a warm, gooey cinnamon roll.

Lumina nodded grimly, her expression somber, and slightly smudged from her glittery eyeliner. “They’re aware of the threat, but they haven’t decided on a course of action yet. They’re waiting to see if the Hexinators truly have the means to locate the artifact, and if they can do it without succumbing to the temptation of a good accessory.”


I understood their hesitation. The Ultima Magicanum was a legend, a mythical book that had been lost for centuries, along with the ancient Sparklemancers’ secret recipe for the perfect glitter-to-magic ratio. Many believed it to be nothing more than a story, a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked power, and the importance of coordinating one’s outfit with one’s magical aura. If the Hexinators were truly close to finding it, the consequences could be catastrophic, and the fashion world would be thrown into chaos.

“We have to do something,” I said, urgency rising in my voice, and causing a few nearby patrons to look up from their enchanted cocktails. I could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on my shoulders, the knowledge that the fate of Prismania, and its glitter supply rested in our hands. “We can’t just sit back and let the Hexinators take control of the Ultima Magicanum, and dictate the future of magical fashion!”

“What can we do, Tia? We’re just novice Sparklemancers, no one is going to listen to us. We’re insignificant, and our robes are so last season,” Lumina sighed, shaking her head. Her shoulders slumped, and I could see the doubt and uncertainty in her eyes.

I frowned, causing a few wrinkles that I quickly smoothed away with a wave of my hand. “We can’t think like that,” I insisted, my voice firm, despite the fact that my knees were trembling beneath my robes. “We may be novices, but we’re Sparklemancers. We have a duty to protect the balance of power in Prismania. We have to try, Lumina. Even if the odds are against us, and even if we have to do it in last season’s robes.”

Lumina looked at me for a long moment, her gaze searching mine, and probably noticing the tiny smudge of glitter on my nose. Then she sighed again, resignation and determination mingling in her eyes, along with a newfound respect for my fashion advice. “Alright, Tia. You’re right. We can’t just give up. We should go to the Elders and see if they’ll listen to us, and if they’ll let us raid their closets for some fresh outfits.”

I nodded, feeling a spark of hope ignite in my chest. It was a small flame, but it was enough to banish the fear and doubt that had been creeping into my heart. “Let’s do it.”

As Lumina and I turned to leave the tavern, pausing only to adjust our hair and make sure our glitter was evenly distributed in a magic mirror that yelled out compliments to the user, a group of burly, scruffy men entered the Prismatic Pegasus. They were clad in black robes, their faces hidden by deep hoods, and a distinct lack of sparkle, and I knew immediately that they were Hexinators. I froze in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat, along with a gasp of horror at their dreadful fashion sense, as they swaggered toward the bar. 

The tavern fell silent, the patrons watching the newcomers with wary eyes, and a few sidelong glances at their outfits. The Hexinators moved with a predatory grace, their steps measured and deliberate, and their robes swishing in a way that was both menacing and unfashionable. I could feel the dark energy radiating from them, a suffocating aura of malice and power, and a complete lack of style.

“What are they doing here?” Lumina hissed, her eyes wide with fear and suspicion. She edged closer to me, her hand seeking mine for comfort, and probably to borrow some of my emergency glitter.

“I don’t know,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, “but I have a feeling we’re about to find out, and that it won’t be good for our fashion reputation.”

The Hexinators’ leader, a towering man whose face was shrouded in shadows, and whose robes were in desperate need of some sequins, raised his voice, addressing the room at large. “Greetings, Sparklemancers,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain and a complete lack of manners. “I am Arch-Hexinator Maldrax, and I bring news from the city of Grimdale.”

A ripple of unease passed through the crowd at the mention of Grimdale, the capital of the Hexinators. It was a dark and foreboding city, steeped in shadow and mystery, and a serious shortage of sparkles. Few Sparklemancers had ever ventured there, and those who had rarely returned unscathed.

Maldrax continued, his tone dripping with arrogance and self-importance. “If anyone here is brave enough, or foolish enough to be seen with us, we demand to be taken to the city’s Elders. We have a proposal for them. A very interesting proposal, indeed.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with menace and threat, and a distinct lack of charm. I exchanged a glance with Lumina, my heart racing with fear and uncertainty, and a sudden desire to give Maldrax a makeover. Whatever the Hexinators were planning, it couldn’t be good, for Prismania or the fashion world. And now, it seemed, we were about to be caught in the middle of it, and possibly forced to wear black robes for the rest of our lives.

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