Fiction Fragment Friday
I’ve been debating on changing the name of Fiction Fragment Friday. When I named this weekly post I intended to have snippets of fiction included along with flash fiction. A scene or paragraph for example could have been posted on a week. That isn’t really how I have used it though. I think Flash Fiction Friday or Free Fiction Friday might be a more accurate title. I’ll have to look around and see if anyone else is using this name.
For this week I have three writing prompts that I have written stories for. These are all smaller flash fiction, but they were written for a writing discord so I needed smaller stories to post in a single entry. I thought putting three together for one Friday post on a holiday week would be a good way to share some current writing.
Prompt 1:
You’ve defeated the Dark Lord, just as you were prophesied to. As you walk back into camp, you notice everyone is looking at you, shocked. “There is no prophecy. We only told you that for confidence. How on earth did you manage to kill an unkillable sorcerer?”
My legs buckle as my knees finally give out. There is no energy left in me to continue, yet somehow pushing against an ancient elm I manage to stand once more. I have never in my twenty years of life felt exhaustion to this degree. Just a little bit further and I can finally rest.
Rays of light from the returning sun hit my face reminding me of my accomplishment. It is finally done. The prophecy has been fulfilled, and the Dark Lord is dead. For the first time since my eighteenth birthday my future is my own. If I choose to sleep for the next week that is my prerogative.
As I stumble through the town gates, I feel it is almost as great an accomplishment as striking down the Dark Lord. My neighbors are all staring at me and I can’t really blame them. I must be a horrible sight. My left arm is broken in multiple locations, hangs loose at my side. Cuts cover my body and blood drips from me with every step. It is not all my blood, but they have no way of knowing that.
“Why do you not cheer? The Dark Lord has been slain. The prophecy is at long last fulfilled.” I point to the sky with my one good arm. “The sun once again shines on this land.”
One of the town elders finally speaks. “How? How have you done this? He was unkillable.” The others all murmur and whisper to each other words I cannot make out. They are either being quiet or I just am too hurt to focus properly.
“Did you doubt the prophecy?”
“There was no prophecy. We just wanted to give you solace and confidence. The Dark Lord required a sacrifice every twenty years or he would destroy the village. A child born during a full moon. You were a bit old for the task, but all we had.”
“You all sent me to die?” The shock of the betrayal overwhelms me.
“It is our great shame, but you prevailed so our consciences can be clear.”
“You sent me to die.” This time it is not a question. It is a statement made in anger. I want to strike my elder down, but in my current state I’m not sure if I could even reach him.
“You must tell us how you managed to prevail.”
I think back to the fight. Dodging fireballs and using his own minions as living shields. Finally running him through with his own sword and watching the body wither away turning to dust under me. I smile at my elder and manage one last response before passing out. “No, I’m not going to tell you.”
Prompt 2:
An agoraphobic princess is sick and tired of knights breaking into her castle and trying to slay her emotional support dragon.
“The stupid Dragon’s asleep. This is going to be a piece of cake.”
Why do all these idiot knights feel the need to talk out loud to themselves? I know that Mr. Cuddly Von Smokey Breath is a sound sleeper, but they can’t know that. The first rule of trying to sneak up on a sleeping dragon should be to actually sneak. You know by quiet and try not to make any sound at all. These egomaniacal morons just can’t go ten minutes without hearing the sound of their own voice. You don’t hear me talking as I stalk them.
“That’s it. Just a little bit closer.” The knight lifts his sword above his head ready to stab down into Smokey’s neck. Dragon scale is tough, but I can’t be sure it can withstand a strike from that close. It is a risk I’m not willing to take.
From my hiding spot in the corner shadows, I raise my crossbow and fire. There is a spot right at the armpit on most armor suits that is open to a precise shot. A shot I have never missed. I hear the reassuring sound of pain followed by the clanking of a sword against the stone floor.
If I were one of them, I would yell out some blustering garbage to make myself sound tougher. I’m no knight though. I’m just an agoraphobic princess trying to defend my best friend and primary source of comfort. Well maybe not just. I’m also far smarter than a knight. Yelling is their tool. I put two fingers in my mouth and use my tool. A whistle.
The roar is so loud it hurts my ears even though I was prepared for it.
“Why Princess? I was here to save you.”
Part of me wants to scream out my frustrations. I never asked to be saved. This is my home, and it is far safer than the world outside. He wouldn’t listen though. In the beginning I tried talking to these would be heroes, but they never care about what I want. They just want glory for themselves. Yelling at them is a waste of my time so I don’t bother with it. I just smile as Smokey eats his snack. I wonder since my arrow is made out of wood if it could be considered a Knight-kebab.
Prompt 3:
Ten years ago, your mentor said, “Kid, there’s a little secret when it comes to magic. You can literally make shit up and it’ll usually work. Makes the guys who actually take it seriously really mad.” Today, you’re one of the least respected, and most powerful, mages in the land.
Let me tell you a little secret my mentor shared with me ten years ago. You know all those incantations, runes, and rules that are required for magic? Well, you don’t need any of them. If you think you need them then you do, but if you know you don’t then you don’t. You can pretty much make up anything and it will usually work. The old wizards don’t want the world to work that way so for them it doesn’t. They have spent so much time imposing their will on the world that they have shaped these rules into reality.
“Hey Franky, what does this symbol mean?” The teen holds up a crude drawing of a penis.
“I already demonstrated to your mom last night,” I shout back. I know he is going to charge me before he even consciously decides to. With my own personal magical gestures of two raised middle fingers, I call roots from beneath the ground to wrap around his ankles. His face hits the dirt so hard I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
“Good one Franky. What were you actually trying to do?” This one from a teen girl on the other side of the street.
“I don’t try anything. I just do.” I wink at her and watch the look of disgust come across her face. I’ll never tell her that I was really trying to wrap him completely in vines, but at the last second was too afraid of my power going wild and killing him.
That is the secret I keep. Sure, you can pretty much do anything you want and create magic, but that doesn’t mean it is easy to control without all those rules I never bothered to learn. I’m more powerful than any other wizard I have ever met but can’t control that power. That is why I’m a joke to everyone in this town. Little do they know I could wipe them all out with a thought. As someone’s spit lands on my nose I wonder not for the first time if that wouldn’t be a thought worth having.