Boretta Tores

Boretta Tores (75mm,120mm)

Boretta Tores wiped the dirt from her brow, her sun-kissed cheeks flushed with effort as she knelt between the furrows. The ancient druidic tome lay open beside her, its pages fluttering in the breeze as she whispered the incantation for the third time that morning. A warm, golden glow pulsed from her fingertips into the soil, and before her eyes, the tiny pumpkin sprout shuddered—then exploded into growth, vines snaking outward like grasping fingers. Within minutes, a massive orange gourd swelled to the size of a wagon wheel, its surface gleaming under the midday sun. Boretta sighed, poking it with her boot. "Papa wanted wheat," she muttered, eyeing the dozen other gargantuan pumpkins already crowding the field. At this rate, they'd have enough pumpkin pie to feed the kingdom—but not a single loaf of bread.

Still, there was magic in her mishap. The village children adored the pumpkin patch, weaving forts between the colossal stems, and the local baker had started crafting spiced lattes from the sweet, abundant flesh. Even the goats seemed happier, leaping onto the rounded surfaces like furry little kings of their orange mountains. Boretta traced the druidic runes in her book again, determined to refine her spellwork. "Maybe just... smaller pumpkins?" she mused, then grinned as a new idea struck her. "Or—what if I make them float?" The book snapped shut as she dashed toward the barn, her braid flying behind her. After all, a floating pumpkin patch would certainly make harvest easier. And if it didn't work? Well, at least the goats would have better trampolines.