Greatest Honor

It’s all in the eyes 

Thank you for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

No warnings

Word Count: 608

It was the final day of the grand celebration and Rue was late. Tapping his finger against the table, Kaliyah scanned the crowd again. It wasn’t like her to be this late. Normally it wouldn’t have been of much concern to him, but he had been itching to discuss the latest reports with her since they had come in with the afternoon meal. He’d managed to intercept most of the interesting tidbits today, but the information would only be good for so long. Once the council got wind of it, their advantage would be wasted, and he could already tell that one report would be of particular interest to many at the event. Rue’s keen sense of their cohabitants was vital to finding the best buyer, and they were running out of time.  

A crack of thunder suddenly split the sky, startling the attendants and drawing their attention. Vibrant blues and greens filled the night air overhead, as a flurry of water droplets began to cascade towards them, suspending just above the heads of the guests. Kaliyah’s hand relaxed on the hilt of his blade as recognition dawned on him. Of course it would be him. Scowling Kaliyah continued to silently scan the crowd for any devilry as the other attendants watched small constructs form from the water droplets with complete devotion. Kaliyah even found himself glancing at the intricate constructs dancing across the sky in an elaborate dance despite his irritation. 

As the performance was reaching its height of action, a great serpent of water rose up consuming the constructs, rolling itself into a sphere that quickly shrunk into a solid form and landed at the feet of the council, refined into a shining pearl of the sea. The crowd erupted into applause as one of the council servants rushed forward to present the stone to the council head, who inspected it with greedy eyes.

The disrespectful undertone of the performance and its conclusion seemed to have been ignored by the participants,  who seemed content with the grandeur of the performance, but Kaliyah shuddered to think what such a statement could mean. That man didn’t make such boisterous plays mindlessly. Looking towards the door, Kaliyah watched Lan silently step into the courtyard, towering over everyone as usual, in a very unusually flashy dress. The crooked smile plastered on his face painted him as the picture of geniality, but Kaliyah didn’t miss the flash of darkness that passed through his eyes as he bowed to the council. When the noise from the crowd finally died down as they returned to their revelry, an air of excitement still lingered from the performance. Lan never disappointed. 

Growing uneasy at his unexpected appearance, Kaliyah made ready to sneak away from the party, but as he was approaching the exit he caught sight of Rue. She looked beautiful, adorned in a simple dress and practically glowing as she quietly offered Lan a beverage. Kaliyah almost reached out to her, but having no desire to intrude, he swallowed his pride, turning to leave. If she had chosen Lan then he would respect her decision. 

‘Come now Capitan, don’t keep Mrs. Rue waiting.’

Turning suddenly Kaliyah caught sight of a small water construct in the shape of a snake that seemed to smile at him mischievously before dissipating.Turning towards Lan, half fuming, he caught Rue’s gaze and stood in shock as a light blush spread over her cheeks. Had they not come together? Catching Lan’s expression, Kaliyah felt his ears burn slightly at the hint of mirth filling his cold eyes. The old snake had definitely planned this.

Last Line Tag

Thanks for the tag @kuebiko-writing

Sorry for the late response.

This is just a bit of my little bloodmage WIP giving a bit of perspective on Billy's motivations

Forest Guardian’s were, above all else, the protectors of nature and were often referred to as its shepherds. Long had they used their power and gile to protect their flock. That had been fine when the humans still held reverence for the sacred, but as that reverence faded, humans had changed. They become far too dangerous to rely on traditional methods. Defeat after defeat forced the shepherds to evolve, and Billy had been no different.

Handing his staff over to the strange human he watched as the living wood of his shepherds crook was twisted into a more fitting tool, no not just a tool, this thing was a weapon that he would use to sow vengeance.

No pressure tags: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @davycoquette @flurrysahin ,

@literally-just-zay @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony + open tag

(Let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list)

A Bit Old For This

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Where did this come from? I don't know... I woke up at 6:10 am. and saw the prompt. This story just kinda came knocking on my brain without notice.

Story Warning: breif thoughts of death, violence, abduction, mentions of unstable mental state, and isolation.

Aaron woke up scowling to the sound of his alarm. 4:30 am. flashed brightly on the small LED screen. He’d overslept again.

Not bothering to snooze, Arron slowly sat up in bed and attempted to fight his growing desire to pitch himself over the balcony of his fifth story apartment. Imagining the complications in the event of his failure he discarded the unproductive thoughts turning his attention to the bathroom instead.

Pictures and Phil and Rachel in their uniforms hung on the mirror taunting him with their smiles, a constant reminder of his failure.

Blasted psyche test. Weren't people like him the very kind that the military were looking for?

Aaron's scowl deepened as he tried to push down a rising sense of nausea, he really needed to take down those pictures before he…

A loud boom sounded from the living room and his failures were replaced by a sudden and unshakable dread.

He'd been anxious and angry in equal measure for most of his life, so Aaron was familiar with voids in his gut, but this dread seemed to be emanating from the back of his head telling him to run.

His brain didn't even process the command that had been instinctively issued before his body was moving calmly towards the bathroom window.

Unhooking the latched he ducked out to the fire escape and began to descend the stairs as quietly as possible while his heartbeat began to accelerate with each successive boom.

The wind began to pick up as he heard a low growl from above. He didn’t dare stop, didn't dare to look up and see what might have invaded his home. What would have happened had he hit snooze one more time? It was then that his anxiety caught up with the dread and a pit formed in his already weakened stomach threatening him with a putrid bile that crept into the back of his throat.

Aaron stopped just long enough to force the bile back down into his stomach. Unfortunately It was a moment too long, for even as he took several deep breaths after finally forcing the caustic mixture down his aching throat, he felt icy fingers gently wrapping around the back of his neck.

The back of his mind began to scream as his body froze in place. He wanted to move, needed to continue fleeing but it was as though his body had been frozen by those fingers which dug into the back of his neck.

"Are you sure this one will do?"

Aaron closed his eyes before he could see the person he heard them stepping closer. It was like his brain knew something worse than the eternal sleep he dreamed of would be forced on him if he made eye contact with whatever it was.

"The Professor was very clear in his description, and I can feel radiance even if it’s faint. I am a bit surprised he made it this long without being discovered."

His brow furrowed as Aaron tried to make sense of what was happening. What did they mean radiance? The feeling in the back of his head flared once more with the urgent desire to escape these things, but he was still firmly rooted in place as a bony finger pressed into the side of his face as warm blood pooled under the sharp nail.

The sting of torn skin was enough to convince the last sane shred of his mind that this wasn't another of his insane dreams, he'd always wake up when he was injured and less had drawn him from his wanderings. The icy grip around his throat tightened, and his vision blotched to blackness.

....

"Simon, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice. He was in a plain white room filled with sleeping figures. From a cursory glance he was probably the oldest by about fifteen years. Among them only about a fourth seemed to be awake, and half of those were staring at the walls in a daze.

He didn’t have much time to linger on his confusion as a familiar boom filled the room and his eyes were drawn to a wolf-like creature that stood towering over one child that was still sleeping. The creature's maw dripped with red as it didn't hesitate to bring its jaws down on the sleeping boy's shoulder before blinking out of existence with another boom, taking the boy with it.

Cries rang out from nearby children as they began to scramble away from any of the sleeping kids as more booms filled the room in rapid succession, always a sleeping child, and always there for less than a moment more than necessary. The teen near him continued to shake her unconscious friend while calling out his name as another boom sounded and knocked her away from the defenseless teen.

Aaron wasn't sure if it was that strange new part of his brain , or the well of frustration the had been brewing in his gut which caused him to leap at the wolf, but in the end the result was the same. Without an ounce of hesitation he pounced on the focused beast like a coiled spring which had finally been released.

Its body was lighter than the wolves he'd dealt with in the past, and as he pinned its throat to the ground with his knee, he reached to his belt finding his knife had been left unchecked.

His fingers gingerly gripped around the handle pulling it free as the creature seemed to catch up with its current situation and attempted to claw at him while snarling.

He was struck by the pathetically weak nature of this thing as his blade was buried in the creature's throat, tearing it cleanly with more ease than should have been possible. As the blade broke free of the creature it burst into a cloud of thick purple smoke and rapidly funneled into his mouth and nose suffocating him for a brief moment.

When the swirl was gone he looked down at his hands with patchy vision and tried to focus on the strange fog that he could now feel slowly making its way through his lungs.

"Congratulations!"

A little old man appeared not far away smiling from ear to ear.

"The first dream wolf has been absorbed so all survivors are now eligible dream Arbiter candidates!"

Little bursts of confetti sprayed over the room as the children and Aaron looked at the man in confusion.

It was at this point that the sleeping victims all started to wake up and look around them in confusion before happily reuniting with their peers and crying tears of what he assumed were relief.

For his part, all Aaron could manage to do was put away his suddenly clean knife, hoping the old man would suddenly decide it wasn't something that an abducted adult should be allowed to have.

Thanks for the tag, @seastarblue

Three facts about me

1. I have broken my wrist before

2. I love fantasy stories (but I'm good with most genres if the story interests me)

3. My favorite color is blue

Tagging in (no pressure)

@renasdoodles

@kuebiko-writing

@davycoquette

+open tag

Ah shit, I was gone for another ten days or so... Woops...

I finished editing during that time and am now currently taking a vacation from writing.

I should be doing some tag games now... Hehe...

God, why am I so bad at being active???

POACHING TALENT

@flashfictionfridayofficial fff262 Run Far and Fast prompt

CW: horror, violence, and death

(I'm bad at tagging, so if there is anything I missed, please let me know.)

Summary: 437 was sent to guard an expedition party harvesting frozen crystals for the Cove. Things go awry when a creature attacks and kills the expedition, dragging an unconscious 437 deep into the tunnels. Once he wakes, 437 attempts to escape the maze, and whatever beast is so keen on getting ahold of him.

Slamming into one of the icy tunnel walls, 437 began forcing air into his lungs. How long had he been running? How far was this thing willing to chase him? 

He tried to calm his beating heart as memories of the earlier massacre crowded into his mind, crushing any attempts of his flickering reason to rationalize that thing. The fear festering in his bones was unnatural and unacceptable for someone of his age, but that didn't lessen its power. 

Sucking in more stale air, 437 knew that thing wouldn't let him rest long. After the first twelve hours of blind flight through the tunnels looking for anything familiar in the maze, he realized it was just toying with him like a cat chasing a bug. 

{Silus?}

His breath stopped short as the grainy voice echoed from further back in the tunnels, sweetly crooning his birth name. Panic flared in his mind again as his instinct to flee overtook his exhaustion. 

Unfortunately, his body wasn't quite in agreement with the decision to start moving again so suddenly. 437's attempt to pull himself away from the wall proved more challenging than he had expected, but the real trouble came when he felt his balance give out. 

Crashing to the floor, he lay in a sweating mess, trying to muster the strength to move his shaking limbs. He needed to get out, to feel the mountain breeze on his face again, to thaw out his freezing limbs, and to enjoy the warmth of food in his stomach.

  Precious seconds dragged on as 437 struggled with his fluttering consciousness. The longer he lay there, the more he wondered if the effort to survive was even worth it anymore when an itch at his throat reminded him of why he was so desperate to make it out of these caves. 

{It can all stop if you just do as you're told Silus. You're good at that, right?}

Too close. 437 scrambled to his feet, cursing as the little lead he had managed to gain was so effortlessly lost in a moment of weakness. 

Dropping another item behind him, 437 continued his uncoordinated dash down the tunnels, hoping  he could avoid another dead end. He was running out of distractions, and in the darkness of the tunnels, he felt his mind slipping down roads he'd long since abandoned. 

The Cove had used him for decades, and now this thing wanted him under its thumb. 279 had been right about them being pawns, but even with how poorly he had been treated in the past, he had no desire to switch his forced allegiance to whatever was so transfixed on him. So he focused on the same goal he'd clung to since he woke in the depths of the temple. He focused on running.

Tunnel after tunnel 437 ran, avoiding bodies and rubble until his eyes caught a familiar expedition uniform. It was torn and barely recognizable, but the blood was much fresher than the other bodies, and he recognized the brat's expression of horror as he passed by. 437 was getting close to the doors. If he was right at his pace, it would be just a bit further. 

Ignoring the screaming pain in his muscles, 437 followed a trail of more familiar bodies until he reached the temple doors. Slamming into them, he stared up in dismay at the solid wall before him. They had already been sealed again. 

{I told you there was no escape. Accept your fate, and become my vessel}

Cold fingers wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him to his knees as 437 breathed heavily, trying to process his wasted effort. The faint hope of food and the Mountain breeze were instantly lost as the impossible pressure on his shoulders held him firmly in place.

He still had his hunting knife. He'd seen the girl use it to the creature's frustration before, when he'd had hope that at least some of them could make it out. Clutching it in his hand, he hesitated for a moment before ultimately releasing the handle. He wouldn't do that, not even now.

Cold breath cascaded over him from above as the creature's mouth slowly began to encompass his head, obscuring his view. He knew what came next. He'd seen it do the same to some of the others before they’d been separated. Knowing didn’t exactly prepare him for the pain, but once the teeth scraped past his chin, he only felt them tear onto his skin for a brief moment before everything cut abruptly to black. 

…

The creature smiled, shimmering with hints of red as the pitiable vessel was processed. Null purred in satisfaction, it hadn't been sure using a corrupted vessel would work given its current alignment, but it seemed that its hypothesis had indeed been correct. Now, it at least stood a chance in the upcoming battle. 

Termination

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Lan decides to make a move after learning that his deal with the council has been voided.

Warnings: Violence and death

“I heard an interesting rumor.”

Ripples cascaded across the wine soaked floor as council members looked up from their drunken revilry.

“It was such a silly little thing, but I knew that it was the perfect tale to end things on.” Water droplets danced around Lan as he took another step forward, once more disrupting the wine underfoot. “Besides, I just know you’d be interested to hear it.”

Several of the more grounded members began to stir, reaching for their stupid little bells with shouts of panic that only grew more desperate as the metal melted into puddles of burning liquid.

“Oh… Not interested then?” Streams of water began running from the ceiling, twisting together to form thin serpentine constructs.  “I guess there really isn’t a need to go over things.”

The serpents began to slither down the large pillars of the hall, quickly gliding towards their prey. Lan continued to advance, walking just slowly enough for his constructs to begin feasting. The council desperately struggled, arms harmlessly passing through the serpents' bodies, only serving to further entangle them. It was a wasted effort. Their fates had already been set in stone the moment they broke their word.

“Such a pity, Rue would have enjoyed this.” But the love birds would be busy, wouldn’t they? 

Half smiling, Lan stepped onto the platform, reaching out to one of the feasting serpents. It raised it’s head and quickly abandoned the others to gently offer up a gilded skulls it had collected. Blinking in surprise at the already smooth surface, Lan couldn’t hold back a chuckled. Even for pigs, their hides had been softer than he expected. 

Working on the color palate for them. But I'm not quite happy with it yet, so more work.

Who is the evilest character in your wip Bloodmage and why do you feel that way?

Ohh great question. Thanks for the ask.

I don't have a full name for him yet since I'm waffleling between a few of them at the moment, so as of now, I just call him the Major.

In his quest for power and an extended life, he had committed just about every war crime he could manage to in the ten years of the war before he found a way to turn himself into a vampire. Needless to say, he just got worse with the increase in power.

When his country started losing the war, the Major allied with the tech witches to try and mass produce bloodmages to send the world into chaos and take attention away from him so he could regroup his vampire army.

His ultimate goal is enslavement of the world, and he will search out any and every person who is even slightly aligned with his mindset to use them for his greater purpose.

He enjoys the challenge of breaking people and veiws mercy as weakness.

He might have been a monster in the beginning, but that is what fear and his twisted heart drove him to become one step at a time.

Thanks again for the ask! I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Empty

Random writing??? Who knows where it came from.

How was it that when he looked into his memories, all that stared back at him were blurred fragments?

He felt that there should have been something concrete there, something to cement him down as whatever creature he happened to be. Shouldn't all creatures capable of thought at least have that much?

Gripping the side of his head in frustration, he stood from the cold ground and stumbled along in the darkness, his vision just as blurred as his memories. A part of him knew this was wrong, that he should know something specific, but like a shadow dancing at the very corner of one's vision, the thing seemed to fade whenever he tried to bring it into focus.

Did he even want to know what he was? The idea bored into his mind like a worm making him question the only purpose he had managed to latch onto. Like some cruel tyrant it seemed determined to smother his confidence in the matter, making him all the more egar to pursue what he was.

There was something in that he supposed, some drive that he hadn't been aware of the moment before. It appeared that for whatever else he might be, stubborn was a part of it.

The most frustrating experience as a writer is having a clear vision in your mind of the story you want to tell but being too afraid to put pen to paper for fear of failing to do the story justice. I’m so scared that my actual execution will fail to meet my expectations that I’m paralysed to even start.