Monday Morning Flash Fiction Challenge, Week 35..... The Friday Post

Good Friday Afternoon.....

I've been a bit under the weather, and my kids have been too.  So, between making doctor's appointments, driving from one thing to the next.... I have not been blogging.... at all.  Sorry for missing last weeks post, and for being late with this weeks.  I promise to try to do better.... really.  I wish Summer would get here, and kill all of the these flu germs....

So, since I didn't do last weeks, I'm going to post both at once.... see how it goes....

The Promised One

by: Dottie Taylor

word count: 730

Vale bent down to the stream, cupping the water, and bringing the cool clean liquid to his parched lips. He watched as his reflection shimmer in and out, wavering as the sun bounced off and on the water. His journey had been long, and still he looked.

Nolie watched Vale's travels through her forest. She took a step, shifting as bones popped and fur took the place of flesh. She was now the doe, and she boldly strolled out into the small stream, her mother and father joining her, there was safety in numbers.

Vale left the air move around him. As he glanced down, he saw the reflection of the small doe, surrounded by the older deer, a buck and a matron doe. He felt the young doe's eyes bore into his back, and he twisted around, peering into her doe's unnaturally blue eyes.

Then he spoke, could she be the one? “I am Vale, Prince of the Fae. I've come seeking what was long ago promised. Our land is in great need, the elders have sent me to gather the promised one.”

As he watched the buck transformed into his Fae form, and he smiled, holding out a hand. “I am Tisten, Leader of the Wood Fae. Cousin, come, there is much to speak of.”

Vale glanced at him warily, not all Fae are to be trusted, he should know, he'd been wandering this woodland for a fortnight waiting to be greeted. “Tisten, I bow down before you.” Vale made the homage. “Let me sit at your fire and we'll talk.”

“Come, Vale, Prince of the Fae.” And Tisten lead them deeper into the enclosing forest.

As they walked the young doe and matron shifted, and joined his side.

“I am Mara, wife to our leader. And this,” she gestured to the young woman on his other side, “is our daughter, Nolie, the promised one.”

Vale turned to face Nolie only to lose his footing, catching his breath. The young woman beside him had long flowing blonde hair, skin the color of the doe's fur, and sapphire eyes which glowed in the near darkness. Full red lips sang of the pleasures to be found in her arms. Small round breasts peeked through the soft camisole hiding her tender bits, her feet encased in a whisper of leather. She was the promised one, the one who could bring life and joy back to his people. And, by the gods, he would have her.

He grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss held in her warm palm. “At last we meet, Nolie, the promised one. It is with a happy heart we come together.” And he let his own full lips promise more than a kiss. Then turned to Mara, “When can the ceremony take place?”

“For the magic to bind, it must be on the next full moon, two nights hence.”

Two nights? Vale thought, how would he contain himself for two nights?

Tisten turned to the young prince, “There is much to say, two nights will barely be long enough.”

In two nights Vale will have won the young maiden, he was sure of it. He would bring her back to his clan, she would be his willing bride, it could be no other way. His heart was already hers.

Nolie took back her hand. She wasn't one easily convinced, to be promised before birth to another galled her. She bent her head down, peeking up through her lashes, “Prince Vale, promised I might be, but it is only by choice I will go.” She looked him full in the eyes, “And please do not presume I will meekly follow.” She strolled ahead and joined her father, letting the prince know she was an equal, not a pretty doll to be fondled.

Ah, this young doe was not the timid animal he was led to believe. He grinned. He was going to thoroughly going to enjoy this conquest. He would be the victor, and she would proclaim it with her own unruly lips.

Mara lips quirked into a smile, Nolie would never be seconded to any man, but she may have met her match in the young prince. Determination flowed from him with every sure step. Nolie may have found an equal.



And, last week's flash....

Magic Most Foul

by: Dottie Taylor

word count: 590

Sera felt the short sword pierce her body, knew the raven had been an omen. But the crown had been her destiny, she was sure of it, not her mother's or her sister's. Why shouldn't she take what was rightfully hers?

As she fell to the ground, she felt the After Lands open to her, and gratefully she entered, never knowing what laid beyond the gates. It might be Heaven or Hell, either way, she had no choice but to enter. Her life was forfeited to her sister, Keila. But, she'd bide her time, soon enough she'd see her sister again.

Kieran waited for her in the After Lands, where Sera had banished him, while his body remained on the Earthbound plane, her tool to use. With Sera's death, he'd be cursed into a waking nightmare, claimed by the After Lands, where no one could save him. True love was his only hope, and women of her clan found men useful, as warriors or bed partners, but love didn't come into the equation. Kieran was lost. She was sure of it.

Keila dragged Kieran faster toward the gate, it was either their exit to the Earthbound plane and their entrance into Hell. All the stories told of a great wizard that resided beyond the gates, He was their last hope. If He couldn't help them, no one could.

They burst through the gate, and again, there was a figure in the distance waiting for them, drawing closer. A cold chill washed over and around Keila, she knew this power well, it bit into her flesh. Sera waited, she would demand to be confronted one last time. Her magic would be stronger here in this place where life had no business and where magic knew no boundaries, nothing to hold it back, focused on the practitioner's desired target. The only question, would Keila draw her wrath, or would Sera try to take Kieran, possessing him as she had once before.

Keila pushed the warrior behind her back, throwing up a protective shield, if her sister wanted his soul, she'd have to pay Keila's price. Once a soul died in the After Lands, there was no chance for rebirth in another lifetime, the penance had been paid.

As Keila and Kieran drew closer to Sera, another figured stepped between them, a bent figure, clutching a staff on which he leaned heavily. But, Keila was not deceived, appearance were not always as they seemed. It was He, the wizard from the stories of old. Though his body appeared to be bent and broken, his eyes glowed with magic that swirled and tumbling through the air.

“Stop!” He command, and Keila stopped, halting Kieran in his tracks as well. “Why have you come to this place, it is not your time.” The wizard spoke, it was like thunder to her ears.

“I've come to collect my one true mate. He was wrongly sent to this place, and legend says any huntress may enter the After Lands to break a spell binding the unrightfully taken. I've come break that binding.” Keila let her own power fill her voice. “My sister cast him here, tying his soul to this place. He must be released.

The wizard turned and spoke the Sera, “Is what she says true?”

Sera looked indignantly down at the ground surrounding her feet. “Not, entirely, he came of his own free will.” Sera chuckled, and looked at her sister. “Ask him sister, ask him whose bed he last warmed?”



So, two for the price of one.... too much??

Join us Monday for another edition of

 

 

Monday Morning Flash Fiction Challenge

I'll be by to check you everyone else's flashes......

Have a great weekend!  (I hope the flu stays away from everyone else!)

Ciao!