The Dis-Service Centre

“The rain hurled itself down towards the barren, rocky, earth scattering impotently against the stone of the great tower.

Lightning raced across the ceiling of midnight clouds, throwing twisted shadows and eldritch shapes through the windows. The sharp roar of thunder echoed from the heavens as if shouted down by the very gods.

Deep in the bowels of the megalith, the shadows watched hungrily from the rafters as the scene below unfolded.

The Sorcerer-Magnifique stalked around the edge of his ritual circle, whispering from the distant recesses of the silken hood in the ancient tongues, speaking the deleterious incantations: thrice forward and thrice reversed.

With the final syllable, he stamped the staff and flung his hands into the air.

The temperature plummeted. Ice formed on the stones, creeping from his feet and clawing desperately up the walls.

In the distance, the thunder died. The very air seemed to throb. And then… nothing.

Arms still aloft, the Sorcerer-Magnifique glanced around the room, as slowly, the ice began to withdraw.

“Oh, for goodness sake!” He huffed, flinging his staff away and throwing his hood back.”

Art by Leyelle M.G.

What’s a wizard to do when they’re in over their head and the spell won’t stick?

When the sands run short and you need arcane advice?

There’s only one thing to do: Better give The Dis-Service Centre a call!

3,556 Words

Published in Quills & Tales Issue 03 on the 28/08/25!