Previously on Winglings, I trained M how to wield pixie magic. I taught her how to use a quail quill to write spells.

M practiced and it wasn't pretty. She turned me into some really weird stuff, but it was obvious she was powerful.

Them wanted a Zaxland sword of her own, and my Zaxlan Gabriel said he knew where to find one.

And now for episode four, The Forger.

The Purple Rocket Podcast presents,

Winglings and the Fairy Kings. Oh, And then. Oh, Dark vivid dreams of my friend Tim made me toss and turn through the night. Dressed in his black spiked armour, I watched him terrorize a village of trollingwlings. I could feel the heat of the fires, hear the

clashing of swords. It was as if I was there, witnessing the majesty of the Toad's dark pixie power.

Everywhere his shadow blade pointed, trees died and crumbled,

Holmes burst into smoke and flames.

I awoke with a start, my heart pounding. Touching my chest, I calm the flustered

pixies swirling inside me. Never had I been so happy to see the light of a sunrise.

Its welcome warmth penetrated the tee piece invisible canvas.

Em had been awake for hours.

She'd always been an early riser. It had been annoying to wake up to her banging around

the house back at the willow tree, rummaging through drawers and making a racket in the kitchen,

and it was just as annoying now, listening to the clanking of pots as she

cooked breakfast. But lie did it smell good. Mm, big hot cakes and

and stretching my wings. M flip the big hot cakes in the pan that she held over a

little pixy fire burning in a pit of sand. They are, she said, but you don't get any until you wash up in the river.

You stink to High Pixie, and I had to smell you all night in that tent.

I sniffed myself.

Coo, she was right.

...