uplifting fantasy

by Bill Tiepelman

Flames of Jubilation

In the heart of the Everbright Forest, where the trees whispered secrets older than the stars and the air pulsed with a quiet magic, there lived a creature of boundless joy. Her name was Lyra, a flame sprite born from the first spark of creation itself. With fiery hair that danced like a wild inferno and feathers that shimmered with the colors of the sunrise, Lyra was a living embodiment of celebration. But not just any celebration—hers was a jubilation born from hope, renewal, and the laughter that comes after surviving the darkest night. Lyra wasn’t just a sprite of flames; she was a beacon for all lost souls who wandered into the Everbright Forest, searching for something they couldn’t name. They didn’t know what drew them there—perhaps it was the flicker of her flames between the trees, or the warmth that seeped into their hearts as they ventured deeper into the woods—but somehow, they all found their way to Lyra. And when they did, they found more than they expected. The Laughing Healer “Oh, you,” Lyra would say, laughing brightly as she floated toward yet another weary traveler. Her laughter wasn’t the quiet, polite kind—it was the belly-deep, face-crinkling kind of laughter that shook you from your core and made you question why you’d ever stopped laughing in the first place. “You look like you could use some light!” she’d exclaim, her fiery wings flaring out behind her, creating an explosion of color against the deep green of the forest. She never asked what brought them to her or why they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. She already knew. It was the same reason every soul came to her forest. They were searching for hope, for healing, for something to ignite the fire inside them that had long since flickered out. Lyra’s magic wasn’t like other healers. She didn’t mend broken bones or cure illnesses with potions or spells. No, her magic was simpler than that—yet more profound. She reminded people of their own inner light, the flame that never truly went out, even when they felt cold and lost. “Look,” she’d say with a mischievous glint in her eyes, holding out her hands, palms up. A tiny flame, no bigger than a candle’s flicker, would appear in the center of her palm, glowing softly. “See this? This is you. It may not look like much right now, but give it a little air, a little encouragement, and—” With a quick puff of breath, the flame would suddenly surge into a brilliant burst of light, like a firework going off in the middle of the forest. Lyra would grin and laugh again, her whole being glowing with delight. “—Boom! There’s your spark. It was never gone, just waiting for the right moment to reignite.” The travelers would watch in awe, and sometimes, for the first time in years, they would smile—maybe even laugh with her. And that was the moment the healing began. The Phoenix of Renewal But Lyra wasn’t alone in her role as the bringer of hope. Nestled close to her heart was a creature of legend—a tiny, vibrant phoenix named Solis, whose feathers glowed with the same radiant energy as Lyra’s flames. Solis wasn’t your typical towering, majestic phoenix. No, Solis was small—no bigger than a sparrow—but what he lacked in size, he made up for in power. “Don’t let his size fool you,” Lyra would say with a wink. “Solis here could burn down a mountain if he really wanted to. But lucky for us, he’s a softy. All he wants to do is help me remind people that life can be reborn, no matter how many times you’ve been reduced to ashes.” Solis would chirp in agreement, hopping from Lyra’s hand onto the shoulder of whoever needed his warmth the most. And in that moment, they would feel it—a deep, soul-warming glow that spread through their chest like the first rays of sunlight after a long, dark winter. The kind of warmth that made you believe, even if just for a second, that everything could be okay again. “See?” Lyra would say, nudging them with a playful grin. “You’re not as broken as you think. You’re just... in between forms. It happens to all of us. You fall apart, you burn out, but then you rise again. That’s the way of things. That’s the way of the fire.” The Visitor One day, a woman named Mira stumbled into the Everbright Forest, her heart heavy with grief. She had lost everything—her home, her family, her purpose. Life, to her, felt like a cruel joke, one she no longer had the strength to laugh at. She wandered aimlessly, hoping the forest might swallow her whole, take away the pain that weighed her down. But instead, she found Lyra. “Oh dear, another one!” Lyra said, not unkindly, when she saw Mira standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. “You look like you’ve been dragging a boulder uphill for far too long. Come on in, don’t be shy. Let’s see what we can do about lightening that load, huh?” Mira looked up, confused. “Who... who are you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Lyra floated toward her, her flames casting warm, inviting shadows across the forest floor. “Oh, I’m just someone who likes to remind people how bright they actually are. You’re Mira, right?” Mira blinked in surprise. “How... how did you know my name?” Lyra laughed, the sound ringing like chimes in the wind. “Oh, I don’t need magic for that. You just have the look of someone who’s forgotten her own name. But don’t worry—I’m here to remind you.” Lyra took Mira’s hand, placing it gently on her own chest, where the small, glowing form of Solis rested. “Feel that? That’s the fire of renewal, the one you’ve forgotten is inside you. But don’t worry, it’s still there. You’ve just let the ashes pile up a little too high.” Mira felt the warmth of Solis’s feathers against her palm, and for the first time in a long while, she felt something stir inside her. A spark. It wasn’t much, just a tiny flicker of something she thought was long dead, but it was enough. Enough to make her believe, even for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t completely lost. Healing Through Laughter Lyra grinned and flared her wings. “You know what’s really going to help? Laughter.” Mira raised an eyebrow. “Laughter? I haven’t laughed in... I don’t even know how long.” Lyra beamed, her fiery hair flickering with excitement. “Well, you’re in for a treat, then. Because laughter is the best way to remind yourself that life is still worth living, even when it feels like everything’s crumbling around you. It’s the most powerful healing magic there is, and the best part? It’s free.” Before Mira could protest, Lyra spun her around, her laughter infectious, pulling Mira into a twirl that felt both ridiculous and freeing. They danced under the canopy of glowing trees, Solis chirping along, and slowly but surely, Mira felt the weight on her chest begin to lift. It wasn’t gone, not entirely, but it was lighter. And for the first time in years, a small, shaky laugh bubbled up from Mira’s chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Lyra beamed, her whole being glowing with joy. “There it is! That’s the sound of life coming back to you.” The Flames of Jubilation As the sun began to set, casting the forest in hues of gold and crimson, Mira sat with Lyra and Solis, feeling a warmth she hadn’t felt in years. She didn’t know what the future held or if her pain would ever fully go away, but for now, she had something she hadn’t had in a long time—hope. “Remember,” Lyra said softly, as the last rays of light filtered through the trees, “you’re like this little phoenix here. You may burn out, you may fall apart, but you’ll rise again. The flames of jubilation are inside you, waiting for their moment to burst into light. And when they do, it’ll be glorious.” Mira nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you, Lyra. I think... I think I can believe that now.” And as she left the Everbright Forest, feeling the warmth of Solis’s glow still lingering in her heart, Mira knew that the road ahead would still be difficult. But now, she had a light to guide her—and a laugh to carry her through the darkest of nights. Because that was the magic of Lyra, the flame sprite of jubilation. She didn’t just reignite your fire—she reminded you how to laugh while you did it.    If Lyra’s joyous flame and her message of hope and renewal have ignited something in you, bring a little of that magic into your own world with a selection of vibrant products. For those who enjoy creative expression, the Flames of Jubilation Cross Stitch Pattern allows you to stitch the warmth and energy of Lyra’s spirit into your own work of art. You can also infuse your home and daily life with the glow of Lyra’s magic. The Tapestry adds a burst of color and life to any space, while the Throw Pillow brings comfort and brightness to your home. For those on the go, the Tote Bag is perfect for carrying a reminder of joy with you, and the Puzzle offers a fun way to piece together the vibrant energy of the flames. Whether you’re decorating, crafting, or simply looking for something to remind you of the fire inside, these products will help you carry the flames of jubilation with you, wherever you go.

by Bill Tiepelman

The Incandescent Steed

In a forest where the light danced through ancient trees, casting long shadows that whispered of forgotten legends, there lived a creature unlike any other. The locals called him Aureon, the Incandescent Steed. His mane and coat shimmered with swirling patterns of fire and light, as though his very being was sculpted from the essence of flame itself. He didn’t merely reflect the light of the sun—he was the light, moving with grace and purpose through the world like a beacon of life’s mysteries. Every evening, just as dusk settled and the sky blushed with hues of orange and violet, Aureon would emerge from the depths of the forest. His presence was neither loud nor imposing. Yet, those who caught a glimpse of him felt something shift within themselves, as though his fiery glow illuminated not only the path ahead but something deeper—something that had been hidden inside them all along. The Legend of Aureon Legend had it that Aureon was no ordinary horse, but an ancient being sent to guide souls through times of doubt and confusion. Some said he was a manifestation of hope; others believed he carried the light of the stars in his veins, destined to bring clarity to those lost in the shadows. Whatever the truth, one thing was certain—those who encountered the Incandescent Steed left forever changed. But for all his mystical nature, Aureon had a bit of a humorous side as well. After all, carrying the weight of spiritual transformation was no easy task, and sometimes a little levity was required. “Honestly,” Aureon mused to himself one evening, trotting through the glowing underbrush, “if I have to listen to one more person bemoan their ‘life path,’ I might just turn into a regular old pony. Everyone’s so worried about which way to go, and here I am, literally on fire, and no one’s asking me how I’m doing.” He shook his mane, flames flickering out in a soft, radiant arc. “Sure, guiding lost souls is rewarding and all, but a steed could use a little me-time too, you know?” The Wanderer That night, as Aureon pondered his role in the grand tapestry of existence, a wanderer entered the forest. His name was Talin, a man whose heart was heavy with questions. He had traveled far, seeking answers to the riddles of his life, yet found nothing but confusion along the way. His footsteps were slow, burdened by the weight of uncertainty, and his eyes scanned the dark forest, searching for something—anything—that might guide him. It wasn’t long before he saw a glow in the distance, a faint flicker of light amidst the trees. Intrigued, Talin followed the light, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. And there, standing amidst the golden beams of the setting sun, was Aureon—the Incandescent Steed. His glowing form stood out like a beacon in the twilight, every inch of him radiant with swirling patterns of living fire. Talin froze, unsure whether he was dreaming. Surely this creature was a figment of his imagination, born of exhaustion and desperation. “Well, don’t just stand there with your mouth open,” Aureon said, his voice light and teasing. “I don’t bite, you know. Or, well, not unless you’re made of kindling.” He chuckled, the sound like the crackle of a gentle bonfire. Talin blinked, startled. “You... you can talk?” Aureon’s luminous eyes twinkled with amusement. “Of course I can talk. You humans always seem surprised when something magical happens. You walk around asking for signs and guidance, and then when you find it, you stand there gawking. Come on, walk with me. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” A Lesson in Light Talin hesitated for a moment but found his feet moving toward the glowing steed as though his soul had made the decision for him. They began walking side by side through the forest, the quiet sound of their footsteps blending with the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of nightfall. “So,” Aureon began, his tone still light but edged with curiosity, “what’s got you wandering these woods with such a heavy heart?” Talin sighed deeply. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m searching for something, but I don’t know what it is. Everything in my life feels off balance. No matter what direction I take, it feels... wrong.” Aureon nodded, his mane glowing brighter for a moment. “Ah, the old ‘which path should I take’ dilemma. Let me guess—you’ve spent so much time trying to find the ‘right’ path that now you’re not sure if any path is the right one.” Talin nodded, frowning. “Exactly. I thought if I just kept searching, I’d find some clear answer, but now I’m more lost than ever.” Aureon chuckled softly. “You humans always think there’s a single answer to every question, as if life is one big test with a perfect score waiting at the end. Newsflash: it’s not. Life’s less of a test and more of a dance, a messy, unpredictable waltz where you sometimes step on your partner’s toes—and sometimes, the floor catches fire.” Talin looked at the fiery patterns dancing across Aureon’s coat. “So... what, we’re just supposed to stumble around and hope for the best?” The steed shook his head. “Not quite. It’s more about understanding that there isn’t a single ‘right’ way to do things. You’re made of light and shadow, just like me, and those parts of you are always shifting, always in motion. Some days, you’ll glow bright, and other days, you’ll feel dim. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. You can’t be all light, all the time.” The Fire Within They continued walking, the trees around them glowing faintly from the aura of Aureon’s presence. Talin let the words sink in, feeling something inside him loosen—a tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I guess I’ve been so afraid of making the wrong choice that I’ve been paralyzed by it,” Talin admitted. “I’ve been stuck, afraid to move forward.” Aureon nodded, his voice gentle now. “Fear does that. It convinces you that if you make a wrong move, you’ll ruin everything. But here’s the secret: there are no wrong moves. Every step you take is part of your journey, even the ones that feel like missteps. The important thing is to keep moving, to keep following that inner light—no matter how dim it might seem at times.” Talin felt a warmth spread through his chest, a soft glow that mirrored the light of the incandescent steed beside him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something close to hope. “So, what should I do?” Talin asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Follow the light, even if I don’t know where it’s leading?” Aureon smiled, his fiery mane flickering in the twilight. “Exactly. Trust that your light will guide you. And don’t be afraid to dance a little in the darkness. It’s where some of the best stories begin.” A Glowing Path Ahead As they reached the edge of the forest, the first rays of dawn began to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. Aureon stopped and turned to face Talin, his vibrant coat shimmering in the early morning light. “This is where we part ways, my friend,” Aureon said softly. “But don’t worry—I’m always around, even when you don’t see me. Just remember: your light is enough. It always has been.” Talin nodded, feeling lighter than he had in months. “Thank you,” he whispered, feeling the gratitude well up in his chest. “I won’t forget.” Aureon smiled one last time before cantering off into the forest, his incandescent glow fading into the distance like a star returning to the sky. Talin stood there for a moment, watching as the magical steed disappeared from view, his heart filled with a quiet sense of peace. And as he turned to face the path ahead, he felt his own light flicker inside him—a small, steady flame, guiding him forward into the unknown.    If Aureon’s glowing presence and his journey through the forest inspired you, you can bring a piece of that light into your own life with a variety of beautiful products. For those who enjoy crafting, the Incandescent Steed Cross Stitch Pattern offers a stunning design that captures the essence of Aureon’s radiant spirit in every stitch. You can also explore a range of home decor items that reflect the magic of the Incandescent Steed. The Tapestry brings Aureon’s fiery glow to your walls, while the Canvas Print offers a timeless way to enjoy his beauty. For a more interactive experience, the Puzzle allows you to piece together Aureon’s incandescent form, and the Greeting Cards are perfect for sharing the magic with others. Whether you’re stitching, decorating, or simply looking to bring some light into your life, these products offer a reminder of Aureon’s wisdom: to trust your inner light, even when the path ahead is unknown.

by Bill Tiepelman

Eternal Cycles

In a world beyond time, where the seasons themselves were living beings, there stood a single tree, a tree so ancient that its roots twisted through every corner of existence. It was known as the Eternal Tree, and it lived through cycles that shaped the universe. Its leaves shimmered with the colors of all seasons, from the vibrant greens of spring to the deep purples of twilight. The tree had no beginning and no end; it simply was. The Eternal Tree was at the center of all life, its branches weaving in and out of reality, nurturing the world with the energy of endless cycles—birth, growth, decay, and rebirth. The four seasons—Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter—were not mere concepts in this realm; they were living beings, each with its own personality, wisdom, and quirks. And the tree, well, it had seen everything unfold countless times. If trees could roll their eyes, this one probably would. Legend said that the tree held the secrets of the universe, but if you asked it, it would probably laugh and say, "You mortals overthink everything." Yet the seasons revered it, visiting each year to seek its guidance, its humor, and its unshakable wisdom. The Arrival of Spring It was the first day of Spring’s cycle, and as usual, Spring—full of energy and hope—came bounding toward the tree like an overexcited puppy. Her flowing gown of bright green leaves rustled as she skipped, flowers blooming in her wake. Spring was all about beginnings, new growth, and optimism—sometimes too much optimism. “Old Tree!” Spring cried out with joy as she threw her arms wide. “The time has come again! I’m ready to bloom and grow and spread joy to the world!” The Eternal Tree’s branches swayed lazily. “Ah, Spring,” it sighed in its deep, ancient voice, a voice like the creaking of old wood. “So full of energy, as always. You do remember that it’s a cycle, yes? It won’t all be sunshine and roses forever.” Spring waved her hand dismissively. “Pfft. You say that every time. But have you seen the flowers this year? They’re gorgeous! Nothing’s going to ruin this.” The tree chuckled, the sound like wind rustling through centuries-old leaves. “Enjoy it while it lasts, dear. Just remember, balance is key. It’s not all about beginnings.” Spring wasn’t listening. She was too busy twirling in a field of daisies she had just created, laughter filling the air. The tree simply sighed, knowing well that every spring bloomed with this kind of wild optimism—just as it knew what was to come. Summer’s Warmth and Wit A few months later, Summer strolled in with a confident, laid-back air. His golden skin glistened under the sun, and his eyes sparkled with warmth. He was the season of abundance and ease, a creature of long, lazy days and laughter. “Eternal Tree!” Summer greeted, leaning casually against its trunk. “Looking strong as always. You know, we really should get you a hammock or something. You deserve a break.” The tree let out a deep, amused hum. “Ah, Summer, always trying to take it easy. Enjoying your sunshine, are you?” Summer grinned, brushing a hand through his sun-kissed hair. “Why wouldn’t I? Everything’s perfect. The sun’s high, the crops are growing, everyone’s happy. What could possibly go wrong?” The Eternal Tree, having heard this before, smiled knowingly. “You enjoy the now, but remember, abundance cannot last forever. Change is part of the cycle. Things must cool down eventually.” Summer winked and stretched his arms behind his head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, old friend. For now, I’m just going to bask in this glorious heat.” The tree chuckled once again, knowing full well that Summer’s carefree attitude would soon give way to the next inevitable part of the cycle. Autumn’s Reflection As the days grew shorter, Autumn arrived, draped in robes of fiery reds, oranges, and golds. He was a thoughtful, introspective being, wise beyond measure but tinged with melancholy. Unlike Spring and Summer, he did not rush; Autumn moved with grace and contemplation, always mindful of the transitions he brought. “Eternal Tree,” Autumn said softly as he approached, his voice like leaves falling on a quiet breeze. “Another year passes, and once again, we begin the time of reflection.” The tree’s branches shifted, cradling Autumn’s words. “Ah, Autumn, you always bring such clarity. The harvest is upon us, but you know well what follows.” Autumn nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon as the leaves began to turn. “Yes, the time of endings. But in every ending, there is the seed of new beginnings. The world slows down, but in this stillness, we find wisdom.” The Eternal Tree smiled softly, appreciating Autumn’s quiet understanding. “Indeed. You know better than most, that with every cycle, there is growth—even in the fall of a leaf.” Autumn knelt at the base of the tree, laying a gentle hand on its bark. “Thank you for your guidance, old friend. As always, you remind us that change is not to be feared but embraced.” The tree hummed in agreement, though it couldn’t resist a little playful jab. “You know, you could be a little more like Summer and just enjoy the ride sometimes.” Autumn chuckled softly. “Perhaps. But someone has to prepare for Winter’s arrival.” Winter’s Wisdom And arrive she did, though not as expected. Winter wasn’t the grim, cold figure many feared. No, Winter had a warmth to her wisdom—a quiet, gentle presence that understood the necessity of stillness. Draped in a cloak of shimmering frost, she approached the Eternal Tree with calm, measured steps. “Tree of Ages,” Winter greeted with a serene smile, her breath visible in the cold air. “It is time for rest. The world grows still, and in this stillness, we find peace.” The tree sighed, its ancient bark creaking. “Ah, Winter. You always bring such quiet strength. While others fear your cold, they forget the renewal that comes from rest.” Winter nodded, her eyes wise and patient. “The world needs time to heal, to reflect, to be still. Only then can Spring return, full of energy once more. But for now, let us savor the silence, for it is in this stillness that the world is reborn.” The Eternal Tree smiled, its branches settling as the first snow began to fall. “Yes, Winter. You bring the end, but you also make way for the beginning.” Winter laid a gentle hand on the tree’s trunk, her touch cool but comforting. “The cycle continues, as it always has. And in this, we find eternity.” The Cycle Continues And so, the seasons continued their eternal dance, each one playing its part, learning, growing, and understanding the delicate balance of life. Spring would return with her boundless enthusiasm, Summer with his easy warmth, Autumn with his quiet reflection, and Winter with her serene wisdom. The Eternal Tree stood at the center of it all, watching over the cycles, offering its ageless wisdom and, occasionally, a bit of humor. Because if there was one thing the tree knew after all its years, it was this: the universe had a funny way of keeping everything in balance, and sometimes, the best thing you could do was simply laugh along with it. After all, life wasn’t just about beginnings or endings—it was about the moments in between, where all the magic really happened.    If the legend of the Eternal Tree and the cycles of the seasons has inspired you, you can bring a piece of this timeless wisdom into your own life with a selection of beautiful products. For those who love crafting, the Eternal Cycles Cross Stitch Pattern offers a stunning and intricate design, allowing you to capture the magic of the seasons through your own handiwork. You can also explore a range of home decor and art pieces that feature the vibrant and spiritual energy of the Eternal Tree. The Tapestry makes a striking addition to any room, while the Framed Print offers a timeless way to enjoy the beauty of the eternal cycles. For a more interactive experience, the Puzzle brings the artwork to life in your hands, piece by piece. And for those looking to add comfort and color to their home, the Throw Pillow is perfect for adding a touch of the seasons to your living space. Whether you're crafting, decorating, or simply enjoying a quiet moment of reflection, these products allow you to carry the wisdom and beauty of the Eternal Tree with you.

by Bill Tiepelman

The Littlest Flame: A Dragon's Heartwarming Beginnings

In the vast kingdom of Elderwyn, home to towering castles, enchanted forests, and creatures of legend, something extraordinary happened one quiet morning. No, it wasn’t the usual kind of extraordinary—the kind with knights rescuing maidens or wizards hurling fireballs. This was different. This was the day that a very small, very adorable dragon decided to make its debut. Meet Smidge. And yes, that’s exactly what he was—a smidge of a dragon, no bigger than a loaf of bread. But don’t let the size fool you. Smidge had big dreams, despite being born in the smallest egg of the clutch. His brothers and sisters had all hatched into impressive little fire-breathers, already causing minor property damage to the local village (a rite of passage for any dragon, really). Smidge, however, had yet to produce more than a puff of smoke and some particularly aggressive hiccups. “You’ll get there, Smidge,” his mother, a glorious red-scaled dragon named Seraphina, would say in her deep, echoing voice. “It just takes time.” Smidge wasn’t so sure. While his siblings were off practicing their flame control, he was busy... well, trying not to trip over his own feet. His legs seemed too long for his body, his wings flapped more like a startled chicken’s than anything majestic, and his fire? Let’s just say no marshmallows were getting roasted any time soon. The Quest for Fire (And Not Burning Himself in the Process) Determined to prove himself, Smidge set off on a mission. It wasn’t a typical “slay the knight, hoard the treasure” kind of mission. No, Smidge had something much simpler in mind: learn to breathe fire without sneezing. It was a modest goal, but you had to start somewhere. He waddled out of the cave early one morning, waving goodbye to his siblings, who were busy setting a small forest on fire (totally accidental, of course). Smidge’s journey was one of discovery. He needed to find a quiet spot, away from distractions, where he could really focus on his fire-breathing technique. “Ah, here we go,” Smidge muttered, stumbling upon a clearing in the forest. It was peaceful, with the sun filtering through the trees, birds chirping, and most importantly, nothing that could accidentally catch fire—except maybe a few shrubs, but sacrifices had to be made. Smidge squared his little shoulders, took a deep breath, and... poof. A tiny puff of smoke escaped his nostrils. Well, it was better than last time, when nothing but a few weak sparks fizzled out. He puffed his chest out, feeling rather proud. “Alright, let’s go again,” he said, this time putting every bit of effort he had into it. He inhaled deeply, focused, and—achoo! The sneeze came out of nowhere, and with it, a burst of flame that wasn’t quite forward-facing. Instead, the flames engulfed his own tail. “Yow!” Smidge yelped, hopping in circles, frantically patting out the flames with his tiny claws. After a few minutes of awkward tail-chasing, the fire was out, but his pride had taken a hit. “That,” he muttered, “could have gone better.” Making Friends (or, How Not to Burn Bridges) Despite the hiccups (and sneezes), Smidge wasn’t about to give up. He just needed a bit of help—some guidance. And so, he set off deeper into the forest, hoping to find someone who might teach him the ancient art of dragon fire-breathing. What he found instead... was Barry. Barry was a troll. Not the menacing, bridge-guarding kind of troll, though. No, Barry was more of a “tree-hugging, amateur painter” kind of troll. He stood about 12 feet tall, with moss growing on his back and a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on the end of his bulbous nose. “Hi!” Smidge chirped, looking up at the towering troll. “I’m Smidge. Can you help me learn to breathe fire?” Barry squinted down at the tiny dragon, one mossy eyebrow raised. “Fire, you say? Hm. Not really my specialty, kid. I’m more into watercolors.” He gestured to a nearby easel, where an interpretive painting of what Smidge assumed was a tree stood. It mostly looked like a blob with branches. “Oh,” Smidge said, his tiny wings drooping. “Well... thanks anyway.” Barry sighed, scratching his head. “Look, kid, I may not know much about fire-breathing, but I do know about practice. That’s what painting is, really. Practice. You just gotta keep at it. Eventually, you’ll figure it out.” Smidge tilted his head, considering the troll’s advice. “Practice, huh? That’s it?” “Yep,” Barry replied with a shrug. “And, uh, maybe don’t set yourself on fire next time.” Smidge couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.” The Littlest Flame Ignites With Barry’s advice echoing in his head, Smidge returned to his clearing and tried again. Days passed, and though his flames were still small and sputtering, they were growing. He only set his tail on fire twice more, and there were no major forest fires—just a few smoking bushes. One evening, as the sun began to set, Smidge felt different. He had been practicing all day, and though he was tired, something inside him felt ready. He stood tall (well, as tall as a baby dragon could), focused on the horizon, and took the deepest breath yet. Flame surged from his mouth, a beautiful, controlled stream of fire that lit up the sky in shades of gold and red. Smidge blinked in surprise. Had he just... done it? “I DID IT!” he shouted, hopping up and down in excitement. “I’M A REAL DRAGON!” At that moment, his mother appeared, her massive wings casting a shadow over the clearing. “I knew you could do it,” she said proudly, watching her littlest flame with a smile. “You just needed to find your spark.” The Future of the Littlest Flame And so, with his newfound fire-breathing ability, Smidge became a legend in his own right—not for his size, but for his heart. He wasn’t the biggest or the most powerful dragon in Elderwyn, but he was certainly the most determined. And that, as any dragon will tell you, is the secret to greatness. As for Barry, well, he continued painting his abstract masterpieces. Smidge, now a proud fire-breathing dragon, made sure to stop by every now and then to check in on his favorite troll, usually offering him a little flame to dry his watercolors. Because that’s what friends are for—helping each other, whether with flames, brushes, or a little bit of encouragement. Smidge might have started as the littlest flame, but he knew one thing for sure: the world was about to see just how bright even the smallest dragon could shine.    Bring a Piece of Smidge's World Home If the heartwarming adventures of Smidge, the littlest flame, brightened your day, why not bring a bit of that joy into your own space? Whether you’re looking for something whimsical to decorate your home or a playful gift for someone special, we’ve got just the right items to capture Smidge’s charm. The Littlest Flame Puzzle – Piece together the adorable world of Smidge, one puzzle piece at a time. It’s the perfect way to relax while celebrating the little dragon who lights up our hearts. The Littlest Flame Tote Bag – Carry a bit of Smidge’s playful spirit with you wherever you go. This tote is perfect for your everyday essentials, and it comes with an extra dash of dragon-sized cuteness! The Littlest Flame Tapestry – Transform your space with this vibrant tapestry featuring Smidge, the little dragon with a big heart. Perfect for adding a whimsical touch to any room! The Littlest Flame Metal Print – Elevate your decor with this stunning metal print. Smidge’s colorful world will shine beautifully on your walls, capturing the spirit of adventure and fun. Each product brings Smidge’s delightful story to life, making it easy to keep his uplifting energy around you. Whether it's a puzzle for a quiet afternoon or a tote bag for your daily adventures, Smidge is ready to brighten your world. Explore more at Unfocussed Shop!