There was spirited debate around the respective magical qualities of the two local castles.

Both had been there a long time.

The castle at the pointy end of Pointy Creek Road had a well-known majesty about it whereas the castle at the blunt end of Blunt Creek Road had more your down to earth feel about it.

Both owners were adamant theirs was the more magical.

A town meeting was called the thrash the matter out for once and for all.

The discussion went back and forward until a voice was heard: “I love a good turret.” The meeting paused, and heads turned to see an auburn headed girl standing in the back of the room. Then all eyes turned to the owners of the respective castle, Augustus Flung of the Pointy Creek Castle and Adolphus Twirt of the Blunt Creek Castle.

“We don’t have turrets,” they announced simultaneously. “They weren’t considered fashionable at the time the castles were built.”

“I’m just saying,” said the auburn headed girl.

There were rumblings about the room until the chairman; Adeline Cark called the meeting to order to remind them they were there to discuss the respective magical qualities of the respective castles.

“My castle,” stated Augustus Flung,” has been at the pointy end of Pointy Creek Road for well on five hundred years and the crones who live on the outer edges of the castle are the ugliest of crones. We are very proud of our crones, and in fact, there is a waiting list of applicants to join our crone school.”

Not to be outdone Adolphus Twirt chimed in: “My castle has been at the blunt end of Blunt Creek Road for four hundred years, and my crones are the ugliest and most boisterous crones around. Their magic is the stuff of legends, and many of you here would bear testimony to that. You, in particular, Adeline Cark as you were once a man called John Chalk, but my crones magically turned you into the woman you are today.”

This revelation about Adeline Cark was news to many. Adeline, instead of being horrified by the announcement, stood radiantly at the front of the hall.

She raised her hand, and the room fell silent.

“There will be a Great Magic Potion contest between the two castles and at the end of which a decision will be made as to which castle is the more magical. Tell your crones to fire up their cauldrons and let the competition begin. We will meet here again in two weeks.”

With that, nothing more was said. The meeting dispersed, and the two owners of the two castles left hurriedly to have their crones get to work.

Nothing they both thought was going to stand in the way of a good potion, after all, reputation was everything.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/12/12/tale-weaver-253-magic-castle-fairy-tale-12-12/