The Door by closeranemone48
Today, dear reader I will tell you a story of a door, now this is no ordinary door, instead this door was a creature born of magic and pranks —You know what, now that I think about it… it was mostly pranks.
Now the story starts in a town very much, not like any town of human make. If one had to describe it they might describe it as quaint, pretty among other words of the like. This was because of the clay abodes in the town and lack of modern day infrastructure —seriously, no cell towers! The reason for no modern infrastructure was the fact that it was around twelve thousand BC, so iron had just become practical. The special thing about this place was how it got its name, Doorinton. The doors never stayed in one place!
However the door we are focusing on today is named Bane, due to his nonstop pranking, though his carpenter would tell you otherwise. One day in the town Bane was thinking, crafting his biggest prank yet, yes! This will be perfect, he thought with glee. Not knowing it was not meant to be.
His plan went as follows; go to the bakery to get flour in a sack, then harness the rain for which he has a knack. Off to trap some wind all in a bottle, and with these things he is set for a Prankster's mottle.
He went to go act out his plan, then suddenly remember he got ban. Oh yes, Bane got banned as he had destroyed all of the bakers pans! Then suddenly he thought, sand! Yes, that clears my mirk, I just needed some eggs for this to surely work.
He mixed the egg the sand and harnessed the wind and rain. He shoved it in a bottle in this precise order; first the wind and rain, then the sand and egg. Bane sealed it with a cork. Then he found an abode with no door protecting it, and waited for a human to come so he could throw the bottle.
——Somewhere in Doorinton——
An old man walked to his home, opened the door and… BOOM. The old man narrowed his eyes and moved faster than sound, catching the bottle Bane had thrown at him.
"You will pay" the old man stated in a disappointed tone. He then grabbed his forging hammer and a billet of iron, stalking off to his forge to work. Bane, meanwhile stayed in place, taunting the old man and laughing away.
It is said that three days later, the old man returned with two small items forged in the flames of man's unyielding innovation. "These," the old man said, his voice rough and powerful, "are for you, and whether you leave today or not hinges on you accepting these gifts." Bane, unable to deny the old man's… hospitality, was then forced to accept, trying to leave soon after… but the gifts made of iron blocked his faeborn magic, leaving him hanging, forever still by his unwanted gifts' power. And this, dear reader is the real reason that doors are on hinges.
The End