The Elven Games (4)

This is the 4th piece in a continuing series. To read the first 3 parts, just click the home tab and scroll down.

Tribba watched quietly as Edgar prepared for the battle. Worry overwhelmed her as she began realizing just how inept Edgar really was. She should have listened to him, but it was too late to change it now. Something had to give.

“Edgar, I never asked you why you are traveling all that way to see the great druid. Can you do magic?” Tribba asked.

“I used to be able to,” Edgar answered. A long sigh escaped from between his thin lips before he continued.

“In Royal Town, where I come from, magick is a way of life. If you aren’t born with the gift of magick, you must go to Magick School or you will become an outcast. My mother is a very magical woman, and everyone expected me to be the same. I’m not, and I doubt I ever will be. I have yet to graduate from Magick School because I failed the simplest spells. I can’t turn a handkerchief into a rose, or a duck into a swan. I can’t even cast a spell for bounteous harvests or something as simple as fixing my sister’s glasses. What little magicked I had, well…that’s a short story.

Every year, the juniors challenged the seniors to a magical duel. The cost of losing is the loss of magic. Seniors, with their superior skills, expected to win. The juniors who lose can gain that magic back over the next year, so it works out to where it’s not a loss. But…should a senior lose, whatever type of spell or magic he was working is lost. Never again will he be able to use magic to do whatever he was doing at that moment again. And I, um…I lost the very first round. I was forced to use what real magick I had—I was supposed to create a potion for healing—and it didn’t work. The bird died and along with it so did my magick. It’s gone. The school administrator sent me to the great druid to remedy that. If Harmlet can’t fix me, no one can. I’m not allowed to return otherwise.”

Tribba watched the emotions fade on Edgar’s face. She witnessed as fluid seeped from his eyes and he quickly brushed them away. Her heart hurt for him and she felt worse than ever.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said softly. She opened her arms and embraced him. “Regardless of what’s happened in the past, Edgar, I believe in you. You can do this.”

“What if they choose a magic game? I can’t compete!”

“You can, and you will win. You aren’t the first to compete with no magick. You won’t be the last.”

“I will never defeat them, not even at my own game,” Edgar said wistfully. “I want to be the champion, but…”

“Then you must start thinking like one!” Tribba said, interrupting him. “We have four days ‘til the Games begin. Come, we have work to do!”

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For the Scriptic.org prompt exchange this week, David Wiley gave me this prompt: The magic is gone.

I gave David Wiley this prompt: This picture: http://heirloomartist.tumblr.com/post/37151614476/0rient-express-summer-fairytale-by-alex

I’m also linking up with 3 Word Wednesday. The 3 words there fit effortlessly into my story this week: battle, fluid, harvest.

I welcome honest feedback. Won’t you please share your thoughts in a comment?

Thanks for stopping in!

In Time: Untimely Demise

This is another segment of my WIP, In Time. It picks up where Swing Life Away  left off.

A single shot was fired and Viola Grace slumped to the ground.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” she whispered,  the pleading in her eyes disappearing behind the lids as they closed.

The Time Keeper caught Viola in his arms. His eyes caught the villain who’d fired the shot hovering fifty feet in the distance. It was the man with the metal face again. This time The Time Keeper could smell the evil coursing through his lethal veins. He laid Viola gently on the ground and stood his full height. His hand reached up and pulled his cowboy hat down so the shade would cover his eyes. He’d had enough trouble out of this guy, and he was ready for more. With one hand on his holster, he stepped forward, blocking Viola from the man’s path.

Their eyes met and challenged each other. Roderick pulled his second pistol from its holster, aiming them both at the Time Keeper. “I won’t be so nice this time, Old Man, if you don’t get out of my way,” he said.

“Out of your way? This is my land. None shall pass without my saying so.”

Roderick released the hinge that kept the safeties intact. “Look, I really mean you no harm, but if you don’t move, I’ll have no choice but to kill you. What happens to time when you die?” The Time Keeper remained where he was, amused as Roderick’s eyes lowered, becoming barely noticeable slits on his face. His eyes followed Roderick’s as they found Viola’s discarded pendant.  His eyes never left Roderick’s face as he bent down and scooped it up, letting the wind swing it as Viola had done only moment ago. He caught the snarl that curled Roderick’s lower lip in response to his actions.

“This is my land. None shall pass without my saying so,” the Time Keeper repeated.

“And yet, in a flash of light and shake of hand, I did exactly that last time I was here.” Roderick turned his face just enough for the sun to catch on the metal of his cheek. The Time Keeper laughed.

“Your attempts to blind me have failed. I see more than I have ever seen before.” The Time Keeper raised his pistol, preparing to fire. Roderick raised his in return. “I am prepared to die to keep you from taking what you need.”

Roderick’s wicked smile exposed more of the metal on his face as he fired. The Time Keeper fired in retaliation. Both men slumped, the Time Keeper taking to the ground with one knee. More shots fired. Some went wild, missing both men, but more made contact. They both collapsed to the ground as bullets entered their bodies. The gunfight continued in a swirl of dust until the Time Keeper lay still on the ground, a puddle forming beneath him.

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For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Michael gave me this prompt: “The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good.” – Samuel Johnson.

I gave Eric Storch this prompt: Pitter patter, / Lightning spree / People of the mist / I summon thee!

The 3 Word Wednesday challenge this week was: hinge, lethal, need.

I welcome and appreciate constructive criticism. Please share your thoughts and reactions in a comment.

Thanks for stopping in!

 

In Time: The Job

 

“Don’t be alarmed,” Nieve said. “When you’ve showered and changed, you will feel much more like yourself.”

She was right. Viola did feel better after a hot shower, though the warm cascade of water did nothing to revive her memory. She didn’t understand why she felt different when she took the black cloth from her wrist. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin until she put it back on. Spying the intricate lace and green velvet outfit laid out for her, she was suddenly grateful that her bracelet was black. It would coordinate inconspicuously with anything she wore.

She dressed in delight, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric against her skin. Jewelry was set out on the gold vanity and, as she stood before the mirror once more, familiarity set in.  She found herself at peace with the vision she saw in the glass. Viola felt like a queen in her new clothing. Somehow, she knew that she’d never worn something like this before. Seeing her reflection, wearing the lush green, accessorized with the gold owl earrings, and matching watch, it just seemed right to her.

After being lost and confused for days on end, and despite not knowing where she was, she felt like she’d come home. Her uneasiness with the bald stranger began to fade and for the first time in days, she smiled.

Nieve noticed that Viola was ready and beckoned her. “Come. I have much to show you and little time to do it in. Your arrival was timely. Very timely indeed.”

Unease washed over Viola again, but she dismissed it, and repressed the warnings shouting in her head.

“I don’t understand. Where am I? How did we get here?” she questioned.

“All will be answered in time,” Nieve pulled a watch from inside her blouse. It was gold, with a ribcage covering the timepiece. When Nieve flipped the cover up then snapped it closed, Viola gasped. It fascinated her. “Come! We are running behind schedule.”

Viola followed Nieve down a narrow hallway.  Viola took in the crystal doorknobs and the cobwebs that dangled between the arms of the sconces hung in between each closed door along the hallway. Nieve’s knuckles rapped twice on the door at the end of the hall before her fingers turned the doorknob and they entered through it. Another gasp sounded from Viola. A wind of warmth rushed past her. She hadn’t realized how chilly it was until that moment. The room was large and open,  and bookshelves filled with books lined each wall. Red carpeting added warmth, coordinating perfectly with the rich browns of the wood shelves, and making the space look larger than it was. The bald man sat behind a large oak desk positioned  in the center. A small table sat to the right of the desk, its face marred by scattered papers and rickrack. Four small wooden chairs surrounded the table, hard and uncomfortable, a striking contrast with the rest of the room.

It was to this table that Nieve led Viola, sliding her watch out again and looking at the time. Viola watched her two companions exchange glances and sadness overtook her that confused her. Had she had a love like this before? If so, where was he now? What had happened to him?

Before she could reflect further, Nieve took her hand in hers, letting her other hand cup Viola’s chin. She looked into Viola’s eyes.

“Come!” Stern was her command before she released her. Viola’s eyebrows knit together, but she allowed Nieve to lead her. Nieve pulled a chair out for her and she sat in it, noticing that there was a wanted flyer at the top of the papers. Her eyes quickly scanned the page, noting the man’s name was Cage Ridley, the reward was $100,000, and how his handsome face haunted her. Before she could figure it out, another interruption distracted her. The bald man slid out from under his desk and joined them at the table.

“I am Father Desmond Lee. This is my humble abode and you are my welcome guest.” He smiled gently at Viola, but still she flinched. His smile contorted his face, making it sinister instead of welcoming, despite his words. “This,” he continued, extending his hand out towards the girl, “…is Nieve, my beautiful assistant. Tell me, have you found everything to your satisfaction since your arrival?”

Viola exhaled, releasing the butterflies that had collected in her stomach since her arrival there. “Ye…yes. Everything is beautiful, thank you, but…where am I? How did we get here from the woods without traveling?”

Father Lee held a finger to his lips. “Hush for now, child. First things first. Do as I request and all your questions will be answered.”

“What is it you want me to do?” her voice was almost a whisper.

“You see that man in that flyer?” She nodded. “I want you to kill him.”

This piece picks up where The Stranger left off and is a new piece to my work in progress, In Time.

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The image in the picture above is this week’s Picture It & Write  prompt. It fit in perfectly with my Steampunk story, currently titled “In Time”, that is being continued from last week.

I welcome constructive criticism. Please feel free to share your thoughts in a comment. Did I put you in the scene? Can you feel Viola’s fear and confusion? Are you holding your breath in anticipation for the next piece?

Thanks for stopping in and reading!

In Time: Amnesia

This follows immediately after Lost and Found.

He stretched his hand out in offering to help Viola up. Though she felt repulsed by its clamminess, she accepted it, drawing on its strength to gain her footing. She began to stumble, her legs weakening beneath her, and felt relief wash over her when he caught her. Her mind was a blank slate, racing unsuccessfully to remember how she knew this man. She barely remembered who she was. The only memory she had was of a woman’s kind face, her lips whispering warnings in her ear, her fingers placing black material around her wrist. Frustration dawned as nothing came.

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Velvet Verbosity offered this word this week: relief.

There’s more to come within the hour so you won’t have to wait too long. Lance’s 100 Word Song is just too good to pass up.

I welcome and appreciate feedback on all my stories. Please share your thoughts in a comment.

Thanks for stopping in!

In Time: Lost and Found

You can read the preceding part here.

Pain wrapped itself around Viola and smothered her in its cloak. She found an opening between two willow trees  large enough to accompany her size and lay down. Convulsions rocked her. Beads of sweat moistened her forehead. Her eyes closed. She wanted to die.

*~*~*~*~*

Cage’s eyes searched the town for any sign of Viola Grace. It had been a week since he’d proposed and she’d taken off through the woods. If she didn’t return soon, he would send a search party to look for her. He still couldn’t believe her father refused to help him look. The conversation hadn’t been pretty. Even now, he could hear her father’s voice in his head.

“She’s run off, and that’s her business. She’s never appreciated what I give her. Ever since her ma died, she’s been chomping at the bit to get away from me.” His wizened face loomed at the forefront of Cage’s mind. “She’ll do the same to you, Mr. Ridley. Mark my words. If I were you, I would seek a wife elsewhere.”

The problem was he didn’t want to seek a wife elsewhere. Viola Grace held his heart prisoner. Every day she was missing, a new chain stretched across his chest, suffocating him. He had to find her. His guilt consumed him. If only he hadn’t proposed; if only he had waited, she might be here now.

“Tomorrow,” he thought.

*~*~*~*~*

Vibrations in the ground woke her. Even with her clothes soaked through and still feeling feverish, Viola felt more like herself. She didn’t know where she was and had no idea how she’d gotten there. These woods were unfamiliar to her. With sudden clarity, she realized she was far from home. Her mind raced trying to remember, but the only memory that would come to her was Cage, on bended knee. A new ache filled her heart but before she could dwell on it, a man crashed through the trees and invaded her space.

She stared at him, soaking in his familiar yet strange dress and the markings on his bald head. A feeling of déjà vu came over her, but she had no idea how she knew this man. When he smiled at her, every instinct in her soul told her to run, but she was too weak physically to do it.

“Ah, there you are, my dear. I’ve been looking all over for you.”‘

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This week’s Flicker of Inspiration was: Lost and Found. We were given 500 words to tell the story of something that was lost (an animal, an item, a person) and then found. I chose to continue Viola Grace’s story from my WIP: In Time.

I am always looking for feedback to improve my writing. Won’t you please help by sharing your thoughts in a comment?

Thanks for stopping in!