Short Short Story Prompt War!

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    Ellette Giselle
    @ellette-giselle
      • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
      • Total Posts: 1792

      @rae

       

      I guess I’ll submit mine next.

      I have no way of sending a link, so I’m just gonna have to post it. I’m excited for this! I’ve never done anything like it, so let’s hope it turns out as good as I think it did. lol.

       

       

      The Mark of The Fey

      A Legend

      Wiry gypsy boy, take my hand, and you’ll not be found come mornin’.
      Once and again ’round the leaping fire, there’s a secret some folk know…

       

      In the days of old when knights and ladies sat in court with kings and queens, and marauders lurked in the shadows and folk still spoke of dragons and great sea serpents, there was a boy named Tauren. He was born and raised among the gypsies, and he was the wildest of them all. He was the most foolish and most courageous lad among them. He was like a fire–– often times he flickered merrily, sometimes he roared up in a great flame, and sometimes he burned low and hot. It was at those times he was most mysterious.

      In those days the fey often roamed the woods at night, waiting to snatch away unsuspecting travelers and lure them to certain death. One of their darkest and most cunning tricks was that of dance. The fey would slip from the trees into the camps of the gypsies on a night when they played their music and danced. Then the fey would join the throng. They danced and danced all night long, and in the morning many young lads and lasses had vanished.

      Not many knew the truth, for most believed the fey a legend. The wise warned the young, but they were seldom turned by warnings from their elders, and it is because of this that so many of them never lived to see the end of youth. So the fey continued to come, and the gypsy children continued to join their dance, and thus were never heard of again.

      Tauren was one who met this fate.

      It was a dark and moonlit night when they came. The music was fast and spirits were wild. When a girl in green with strange dark eyes reached out a cold hand to touch his arm, Tauren turned to her. For a moment they looked at one another, and Tauren knew she was a fey. But, for the thrill of the danger, he took her hand and plunged into the dance. Round and round they whirled, and the music grew louder and faster. The dance was wilder and began to sheer off as the couples scattered over the glade and spilled into the shadows of the forest.

      Tauren felt himself pulled toward the shadows, and he stepped forward, a gleam in his eye. The next moment, blackness covered them and he was falling.

      When Tauren woke, he was lying in a cold dark hall made of stone. He scrambled to his feet, a hand reaching for his knife, but the blade was gone. It was in that moment that Tauren knew this gamble had not paid off. He was pitted against a foe far stronger than he had ever guessed, and his first mistake was to underestimate his enemy. Slowly sitting with his back to the wall, Tauren steeled himself and prepared to go down fighting to the last.

      After a time, light flickered at the end of the hall. Tauren slowly rose and stood ready, hands clenched at his side. A lithe young man in strange garments stepped around the corner, and behind him came a girl bearing a tall candle. Beyond them was a woman with long black hair and eyes so dark they swallowed up the light around them. Tauren threw himself on the first fey, but in a moment the young man had caught his arm, twisting it behind his back, and thrown him to the ground. A second later he was crouched over Tauren, a slender blade in his hand.

      “Stop.”

      The words were spoken in a soft voice, but they cut like the blade of a dagger, and were as cold as ice. The fey warrior yanked Tauren to his feet and spun him to face the woman. She stepped forward, and Tauren saw the silver crown woven into her hair. “What is your name, boy?”

      Tauren straightened and lifted his chin. “I am called Tauren.”

      The woman stared at him, her dark eyes seeming to slowly drain away the light around them. “Do you know who I am?”

      “You are queen of the fey,” he replied.

      She gave a slight nod. “Tell me, why did you dance when you knew it would mean death?”

      Tauren tilted his head slightly. “What makes you think I knew of the trap that was set?”

      “You knew the hand you took was that of a fey, yet you still did,” the woman replied.

      Tauren smiled slightly. “I thought I could outwit her. I wanted to see your kingdom, and to perhaps conquer it. Somehow I planned to stop you from stealing away our youth.”

      The woman threw back her head and laughed, and the sound turned the air about them cold. “You believed you would see my kingdom and stop me? Nay, there is only one way to stop the fey, foolish boy, and you of all people would never have the strength to do such a thing. However,” and her voice grew soft. “Your spirit intrigues me, and I see that even in death it will be unbroken. Therefor, I pronounce a different judgement upon you. You will live, but you will never leave this place, and you will never see the light of day again. No matter where you go, the moon must always be your companion, and the stars your guide. You will live among us until you die, and never again will the rays of the sun touch your face.” She made a motion with her hand, and the fey warrior grabbed Tauren.

      There was a brief struggle and then a blinding flash of pain. Tauren’s legs buckled and he crumpled to the stone floor of the chamber.

      When Tauren woke again, he was still lying where he had fallen. Slowly he lifted his head, and the pain returned, driving him down again. For a few moments he lay on the floor, gasping for breath. Carefully he pushed himself up. The right side of his shirt was torn off his shoulder, and it was from this side that the pain came. Tauren reached out a hand that trembled and touched his shoulder. Letting his fingers slide down toward his chest, he found the rough edges of a scar. The skin was hot to the touch, and Tauren flinched when his fingers found it. Carefully he traced the wound and discovered it was in the shape of a crescent moon. Slumping back against the wall, Tauren closed his eyes.

      He knew there would be no escape.

      ***

      A year passed.

      It that time, Tauren learned to become one with the fey. Once, when he was out in the woods, he ran toward the land he had once known. But the moment the first light of the sun touched the edges of the clouds, his legs buckled and strength left him. Tauren fell, and when he woke again, it was night. The next evening, he tried it again. And again. And again. Each time, as the dawn began, he lost consciousness. Whatever curse they had laid upon him held true. He could never escape.

      So Tauren accepted his fate. The queen of the fey was pleased, for to see his spirit broken was far better than to watch him die. But she misjudged her victory. Tauren was broken, but he was not defeated.

      For the broken can be made whole.

      As time passed, Tauren learned the ways of his captors. He became a skilled woodsman, he was fast, and he was strong. Because the night was the only time he could wake, Tauren learned to wield the shadows as a weapon. He became one with the darkness and he learned its secrets. The healthy tan that had once touched his skin slipped away, and his face grew pale. His hair–– which had always been wild and black–– now seemed an unnatural contrast to his face, and his dark eyes were often shadowed. He had always been a slender boy, and in the night he seemed little more than a shadow–– here one moment and gone the next.

      Winter passed, and another year began. The nights grew warmer and the snow melted. Tauren was growing restless. Every moment he looked for a chance to escape, but none ever came. Even if he set out the moment he woke, he was never able to move fast enough to get back to the land he had known before the rising of the sun. Leaves unfurled and flowers began to bloom. Summer was near at hand.

      Tauren took to wandering alone among the trees. Slowly, slowly, despair was reaching out cold hands to drag him down, down, down into defeat.

      One evening, as the stars dimmed and the moon slowly sank, Tauren came out of the woods and found an open field. It was full of little pale flowers and Tauren walked among them, trailing his hand over their closed buds and trying to remember what they had been like when the sunlight woke them from their sleep. All at once, he stumbled into an opening in the tall grass.

      There, lying in a bed of flowers, was the most beautiful thing Tauren had ever seen.

      It was a girl.

      She was a year or two younger than he was, and she was human, but that was where the similarities ended. While Tauren was clearly one with the night, this girl was a child of the day. Her face was softly tanned and her cheeks were fresh and rosy. Her long, golden hair was spread about her, and the dress she wore was covered with flowers she had woven into chains and garlands. Her left hand rested over her chest, and on the back of it was a small, delicate mark.

      The mark of a sun.

      Tauren slowly crouched down beside the girl. She was breathing, and there was no wound upon her to show she had been injured. She seemed to be asleep. Tauren sat down in the grass to watch her. His eyes kept going back to her hair. The moonlight shown off of it, and the golden glow it made reminded Tauren of the sunlight. He had not seen the sun in over a year, and every fiber of his being longed to feel its warmth and look upon its brightness once again.

      After a time, the moon sank down below the hills, and the sky began to turn lighter. Tauren felt the beginnings of drowsiness come over him. But, at that moment, the girl stirred.

      Tauren held his breath and watched.

      The girl let out a sigh, and her eyes fluttered open. For a moment she lay looking up at the sky. Then, her head slowly turned and she saw Tauren. With a gasp she sat up and slid away.

      “Please don’t go,” Tauren begged.

      The girl hesitated a moment, and her eyes softened. They were a vibrant blue that sparkled with life and warmth. She looked at him, her head tilted slightly. At last, she spoke, her voice an added harmony to the light breeze that sang through the tree tops. “You are not a fey.”

      Tauren shook his head.

      “Were you captured too?”

      He nodded.

      The girl sighed. “I wondered out into the woods one night, even though my father warned me not to go there. The fey were waiting in the shadows and they took me away. My father is a Laird, but they didn’t want a ransom. I don’t think they care much for gold.”

      “No, they don’t,” Tauren agreed. “They care only for revenge and cruelty.”

      The girl tilted her head again and looked at Tauren. “You look like a shadow. A shadow with a pale face. Yes, your face reminds me of the moon at night.” She sighed. “I haven’t seen the moon for two years.”

      “Your hair reminds me of the sun,” Tauren replied, quietly. “I haven’t seen the sun for more than a year. I never thought one could miss something like that so much.”

      “Nor did I,” she agreed.

      The stars were slipping away, and the horizon was growing lighter by the second. Tauren’s eyes drooped closed, but he forced them open again. The girl was watching him with concern. “You don’t look well.”
      “It’s the sun,” he replied. “I can never see it again.”

      She looked toward the horizon. “Are you going to fall down right here? Can I make you more comfortable.”

      “I… I don’t know…” his words slurred together and his head lowered. The next moment he had tumbled down into the soft grass.

      The girl laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be here when you wake. I promise.”

      Then everything went dark.

      ***

      When Tauren woke, he was lying in a field. The flowers he had crushed beneath him gave off a beautiful perfume that made him think of summer days. Tauren rolled over on his back and stared up at the sky. The sun had already set, and the bright colors had drained from the horizon, leaving only a shadowy memory of sunset.

      “You’re awake.”

      Tauren sat up quickly and saw the girl from last night. She was seated a few paces away, weaving a crown of pale flowers. All the light of the fallen sun seemed to have been poured into her golden hair, for it shown like fire. Tauren squinted against the light, but couldn’t tear his eyes away. The girl’s expression grew soft. “You look the way I felt when I saw the moon in your face.”

      Tauren looked away. Tears stung his eyes, but he forced them back. “I want to see it again.”

      “So do I,” she whispered.

      And though they were speaking of opposite things, somehow it was the same.

      After a time, the girl looked up. “What is your name?”

      Tauren was taken aback. No one had asked him that in a very long time. He hesitated a moment, and then spoke. “I’m called Tauren.”

      She smiled. “My name is Serena.”

      They were silent again, and Tauren watched Serena’s deft fingers weaving in and out of the flowers in her hands. At last, she spoke, her eyes on her work. “What did the moon look like last night?”

      “It was a full moon,” Tauren replied.

      She nodded. “I thought so.”

      “How did you know?”

      Serena hesitated a moment. “Well, for some reason the fuller the moon, the more tired I am.”

      Tauren was about to laugh, but then paused. “Were there clouds in the sky today?”

      “No,” Serena replied.

      Tauren sat and thought about this for a time. Serena wavered slightly, and the flowers slipped from her hands. Tauren lunged forward and caught her as she fell. “Are you alright?”

      She nodded, and he gently lowered her down on the flowers. He turned, but Serena reached out and caught his hand. Her fingers were warm and alive against his skin. Tauren paused and looked back.

      A slight flown had creased her forehead, and her eyes were filled with concern. “Your hands are cold.”

      “They always are,” he replied, quietly.

      Serena’s eyes closed, but she managed a weak whisper. “Tauren, can you tell me about the moon again when I wake?”

      “Yes. I will.”

      A smile touched Serena’s face, and she slipped into a deep sleep as the moon began its nightly journey over the sky. Tauren sat down beside her and looked up at the moon. As he watched it, he slowly made a plan. He would find a way to escape. Serena needed to go back to her people, and he needed to see the sun again.

      ***

      Tauren’s chance came sooner than he ever thought possible. It was three nights later when it happened. Serena was sleeping in the flower field, and Tauren was walking among the trees, hunting for something to eat.

      All at once, he heard a scream.

      Leaping up, Tauren ran through the forest, slipping here and there among the shadows and moving without a sound. In moments he had reached the source of the cry. One of the queen’s Lore Keepers was trying to fight off a wolf while keeping his scrolls out of reach of the beast’s teeth. In a moment Tauren had drawn a slender blade and leapt into the fight. It was over in moments, and he stood triumphant over the dead wolf.

      The Lore Keeper sat down and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Thank you, Darkling. I am in your debt.”

      Tauren was about to make a remark concerning his least favorite of the names they had given him, but something caught his attention. “You are right. You are in my debt, and I demand the payment.”

      The Lore Keeper looked at him for a moment, and a slow smile crossed his face. “You have learned the ways of our people. It was my foolishness that made me think you would not realize the power you have, and then I could have taunted you. Very well, I have admitted the debt. Now I will pay. What is it you require?”

      Tauren hesitated. He had to be very careful in his words. When the fey were in one another’s debt, it was the right of one to demand payment from another. Yet, the payment must fit with the debtor. This was a Lore Keeper. That meant the debt would be one payed with words. What could lore do to help him? After a long moment, Tauren spoke. “There is a border to this kingdom.”

      “There are borders to all kingdoms,” the fey agreed.

      “There is a way out of this kingdom.”

      “Bridges often span chasms,” was the reply.

      Tauren pounced on the clue. “Tell me of the bridge.”

      The Lore Keeper paused and eyed him once more. “You are sharp, Nightwalker.” Then, a slow smile began to cross his face. “There is no harm in the telling of an old legend. The queen herself puts no store by it, but she’ll enjoy the despair it drives you to as you try in vain to find your way home, for you cannot do it alone.” He cleared his throat and began to recite.

      “Under the cloak of twilight’s breath,
      A bridge looms, draped in shadows,
      And at its end the sun will rise.
      Those who dare to cross meet a dagger’s hiss—
      The path is fraught with the echoes of the fallen,
      Hope smothered by the weight of dread,
      Where sacrifice is the cost of freedom.

      Beneath the shroud of velvet night,
      Where shadows twist, a chilling breath,
      The bridge stands poised, a promise rendered—
      An arc of dread, a whispering path.
      The forest sighs, cruel and knowing,
      Branches claw like grasping hands;
      The prisoners of the fey will run, yet they know the price—
      To be caught is to forfeit life.

      The child of the night, with eyes like coal,
      and the child of the day, aglow with hope;
      in dark embrace they meet their fate,
      together woven in this deathly song,
      to tear down the fortress of the fey.
      One must falter for the other to soar
      In this dance upon despair—”

       

      The Lore Keeper gave a wave and, with a wicked smirk on his face, took off running through the trees.

      Tauren sat down on the forest floor and turned his knife over and over in his hand. “Child of night, and child of day,” he whispered to himself. “Sacrifice is the cost of freedom… one must falter for the other to soar… to run is to forfeit life.”

      After a time, Tauren got up and made his way back to the clearing. When he arrived, the moon had slipped behind the hills, and his legs were shaking. He found Serena and sat down on the grass. A moment later she woke and looked up at him. “Good morning, Tauren.”

      He smiled at her, but his eyes were shadowed.

      Serena sat up and tilted her head slightly. “You are sad.”

      Tauren shook his head. “No, not sad… only thoughtful.”

      Serena didn’t say anything, and the breeze sang to them, whispering a haunting call.

      At last, Tauren looked up. “Serena, do you want to go home again?”

      Tears flooded Serena’s eyes and her lower lip trembled. “More than anything! Oh Tauren–” she broke off, hiding her face in her hands.

      Tauren leaned forward. “Serena, don’t cry. I have something I must tell you. Please, before the sun comes up.”

      Serena sucked in a breath and raised her head.

      “Serena, I have found a way. I know how to escape,” Tauren told her. “There’s a bridge that we can cross and get to the other side. To freedom.”

      “To our home?” Serena whispered.

      Tauren nodded. His eyes were drooping closed, and he slowly lay down. Serena scooted closer and bent over him. “How Tauren? How can we get there? We can’t travel together.”

      “I’ll… find a way,” he whispered. “The moment the sun sets, you have to try to wake me.”

      Then sleep had him, and he knew no more.

      ***

      “Tauren, please wake up. Please wake!”

      Tauren stirred and opened his eyes. The sky was still streaked with rich colors, but night was approaching. He tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out and he fell back, his scar burning.

      “Tauren, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Serena asked anxiously.

      “I’m fine,” he panted. “The sun is still too high. Give me a moment.”

      A few minutes later, Tauren struggled to his feet. “Come, we must go.” He reached out and took Serena’s hand.

      “Which way is it?” she asked.

      “The sun rises at the end of the bridge, which means it must be to the east,” Tauren replied.

      The two turned their backs to the last light of sunset and began their walk. The lower the sun got, the faster Tauren could go. Then there was a short space of time where the two of them could run. But all too soon, Serena began to lag, and her steps faltered. “I’m sorry, Tauren. I can’t go much farther.”

      Tauren turned to look at her. “Are you willing to trust me and walk until your legs give out? I promise I won’t let you fall.”

      Serena nodded, pushing a sweaty strand of hair from her face. They walked on, and Tauren put an arm around Serena’s shoulders, helping her to stay on her feet. There was a pale light in the east, and all at once a sliver of white light shown over the hills. The moment it did, Serena’s head fell back and her leg gave out. Before she could fall, Tauren had swept her up in his strong arms. “Rest, Serena,” he whispered. Then, he took a deep breath and pressed on.

      All night Tauren carried the girl, her golden hair floating over his pale arm, her warm cheek against his cold shoulder–– the light of dawn held tightly in the arms of dusk.

      Mile after mile slipped away under Tauren’s feet, and he pressed on and on. Sometimes he could almost run, while at other times the ground was so rough and steep that he hardly moved forward.

      Toward the end of night, Tauren saw a large bird swoop over his head, flying back the way he had come.

      Tauren gritted his teeth.

      The fey would soon be after them.

      The moon sank in the west, and Serena opened her eyes. Tauren gently set her down and bent, hands on knees, panting for breath.

      Serena laid a hand on his shoulder. “Did you carry me all night?”

      He nodded.

      “Oh Tauren… thank you.”

      Tauren smiled up at her and straightened. “Come, let’s keep moving while we can.”

      They walked on and on, and in front of them the sky grew lighter. Tauren stumbled, and Serena grabbed his arm, keeping him from falling. “Here, lean on me.”

      Reluctantly, he did, and Serena struggled on. The path grew rocky beneath their feet, and Serena gasped for breath as she tried to keep the tall boy upright. All at once, Tauren’s legs gave out and he fell, knocking her down with him. Serena sat up and pushed her sweaty hair from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tauren. I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

      “You’re not meant to,” he managed.

      Serena looked about them. “There is a sheltered hallow a few paces away. If you will let me, I can drag you there.”

      Tauren nodded slightly, and Serena stood up. Pulling Tauren into a sitting position, she slid her arms under his and clasped her hands over his chest. Then she dragged him over the rocky ground toward the shelter. Tauren felt her lower him down, and then he slipped into unconsciousness.

      ***

      “Tauren, they’re coming!”

      Tauren woke to find Serena bending over him, her face drawn and worried. “I saw the fey in the fells below us. They’re hunting!”

      Tauren scrambled up, pressing both hands to his aching head. “Come, Serena, we have to run.”

      Taking her hand, Tauren spun and began to scramble up the slope. Serena climbed with him, and the path grew steeper. Soon they were using their hands almost as much as their feet. Lose stones slid down the trail, rattling into the valley below.

      A high, eery call sounded and Tauren felt a chill run down his spine. He climbed faster, helping Serena up after him. At last, they arrived at the top and stumbled to their feet. In front of them was a long stretch of smooth rock and at the end was a cliff. Attached to the cliff was a bridge. It disappeared into the growing darkness, and no matter how hard he tried, Tauren couldn’t see the end.

      The sky grew darker and Tauren could feel his strength returning. Serena, however, was starting to fade. Tauren broke into a run, pulling Serena with him. She forced herself to match his stride as the two dashed toward the bridge. Tauren didn’t dare look back. He knew what would happen if the fey caught them.

      In front of them, a ray of moonlight shown above the bridge.

      Serena gasped and went down. Tauren caught her before she hit the stoney ground. His arms ached, but he hoisted her up. “Hold on, Serena. We’ll be safe soon.”

      Tauren reached the edge of the bridge and paused. He stared at the long stone arch, wondering if this was were it would end. Taking a deep breath, he plunged forward.

      Tauren ran the first few yards of the bridge, his fear driving his legs faster. But soon his weariness came into play and he slowed to a walk. Getting a better grip on Serena, he pressed on. Around him, the darkness grew blacker, and the light of the moon was blocked out. All noise was somehow smothered, leaving strange, faint sounds. The darkness, which had once been his friend, had now turned against him.

      All at once, something whooshed through the air close by. Tauren ducked and spun, searching the inky blackness.

      There was a shriek and a creature made a dive at his head. Tauren jerked back and it flew past with hardly an inch to spare. Carefully setting Serena down against the side of the bridge, Tauren drew his dagger and crouched, every inch of him tense.

      The creature came out of the blackness and Tauren lunged, thrusting his dagger upward. It struck something, and a screech sounded out in the darkness. Tauren stumbled and righted himself. He looked this way and that, breathing hard. All at once, the creature crashed into him from behind. Claws dug into his shoulders and Tauren cried out as they dragged across his back, leaving trails of burning pain in their wake. He caught a leathery wing in his hand and slammed the creature to the ground. Diving on it, he drove his dagger down again and again. At last, the creature went limp.

      Tauren staggered to his feet and found the side of the bridge. He leaned against it a moment, trying to ignore the burning pain across his back. Slowly he moved along the wall until he found Serena. Bending down, he picked her up and began walking again.

      An hour passed, and then another. The moon climbed higher, showing through the darkness now and then. Tauren struggled on, one step at a time. His shoulders grew stiff with pain, and blood trickled down his back. Serena seemed to grow heavier with every moment. Another hour slipped away, and Tauren couldn’t go a step further. Sinking down, he leaned his back against the bridge and pulled Serena close, wrapping his arms around her to keep her safe from anything that might try to drag her away.

      A few hours later, Tauren woke to find the moon high in the sky. Feeling stronger, Tauren stood up, hoisting Serena into a more comfortable position. Then he continued on.

      Far off, he thought he heard a high call behind him. The fey were gaining on them. Tauren quickened his pace, fighting his way forward.

      Two more hours slipped by, and Tauren’s steps began to falter. How much farther can it go? he wondered.

      The moon sank lower and lower, and Tauren felt himself growing weary. Then, out of the darkness ahead, he saw movement. The shadows parted, and Tauren came face to face a tall figure. His face was hooded in deep shadow, and a black cloak swirled about him. Tauren stopped short, tightening his hold on Serena. “Let us pass.”

      The fey said nothing.

      “I command you to let me pass.” Tauren repeated.

      “Only a victor may pass,” came a low reply.

      Tauren let out a slow breath and set Serena down against the side of the bridge. Drawing his dagger, he moved into an offensive position. “I have already defeated one creature. I’ll fight you too.”

      “Arrogant, are we?” asked the figure.

      “No, not arrogant. Desperate,” Tauren replied. “I will make it to the other side. I will see the dawn again.”

      The man stepped forward and Tauren lunged. In a moment they were locked in a wild struggle. Tauren sought to stab again and again, but each time his plan was thwarted. Soon he was gasping for breath, sweat streaking his face.

      Behind him, the moon sank lower.

      The warrior slammed Tauren against the side of the bridge and lunged, pushing him so that his back was almost over the edge. Tauren caught a glimpse of the deep blackness below, and he struggled wildly to get free. The warrior easily knocked the knife from his hand and grabbed Tauren by the front of his shirt. He turned and slammed the boy onto the stone floor of the bridge with all his might.

      The air was driven from Tauren’s lungs and he lay shaking and struggling to draw in a breath. The tall man turned and bent over Serena, laying one of his dark hands on her back.

      Tauren dragged himself onto his side, and his fingers found his knife. Sucking in a breath, he drove himself to his feet and lunged at the warrior. The man was caught by surprise, and Tauren’s blade found its mark in his arm. The fey warrior spun, slamming Tauren into the side of the bridge. The dagger slipped from Tauren’s hands and clattered to the ground. The fey picked up the dagger and drove it at Tauren’s chest. Tauren scrambled away and the dagger slashed across his side. He reeled to hands and knees, crying out in pain.

      He felt the warrior behind him and spun, kicking the fey’s legs out from under him. The warrior fell and Tauren tore his dagger free and drove it into the fey. The warrior staggered up, wrenching free the blade, and Tauren knew there was no way he could win. The fey took a step forward, and then staggered, he caught the side of the bridge and bent, his hand going toward his chest. Then he turned his hooded face toward Tauren. “You must make a choice at the end,” he hissed. “You will make a choice.”

      Then he spun and disappeared into the shadows.

      Tauren pressed both hands to his side, doubling over in pain. He sucked in several breaths and straightened. Moving to the side of the bridge, he found Serena and pulled her up. He looked behind him, hoping the hills would block the moon’s light soon. However, he saw they were too high in the mountains.

      Serena would not wake until the sun did.

      Tauren staggered on, and the sky began to grow lighter and lighter. The moon sank down and the stars faded one by one. Tauren’s strength was failing, but he forced himself to take one step. And then another step. And then another. The eastern sky turned lighter, and Tauren felt as though the sun was sucking away his strength, using his life to feed its coming glow.

      Tauren looked ahead and there, wide and open, green and full of flowers, he could see the other side of the bridge. Freedom was in sight!

      Tauren stumbled forward eagerly, forcing one foot after another.

      Behind him, he heard the call of the fey. Glancing back he saw them closing in. They were gaining on him.

      Tauren looked ahead, and it was at this moment that he understood the cruelty of the bridge. It would take all day or all night to cross, and when the poor fugitive reached the point where freedom was in sight, the cursed sleep would bring them down and the fey would be upon them.

      Tauren stumbled a few more paces forward. He looked at the end of the bridge. If he left Serena and made a dead run, he might reach the end before the sun rose.

      He looked down at Serena. She was asleep, and when the fey reached her she would never know a thing.

      Tauren shook his head. He couldn’t leave her.

      Sucking in a deep breath, he pressed on and the distance closed beneath his feet.

      A ray of sunlight shot from the eastern horizon and pain flashed through Tauren’s scar. He stumbled and went down on one knee. Struggling up, he took two more steps.

      In his arms, Serena stirred.

      Tauren glanced back and saw the fey. They would be on him in a moment.

      Serena opened her eyes. “Tauren, what’s happening?”

      Tauren stumbled forward and let Serena slip down, guiding the girl to her feet. “Look! We’ve made it to the end!” he gasped. “Run Serena! Run!”

      Serena began to run, her bare feet skimming over the stones as she raced toward the sun, her strength growing with the light.

      Tauren stumbled and forced himself to run after her. He caught sight of her hand and saw that the small sun mark of the fey was glowing. Slowly, slowly it seemed to be burning away. Serena ran faster and Tauren forced himself to keep up with her.

      Another ray of sunlight shot up and turned the bottom of the clouds to gold. Tauren stumbled and caught himself against the side of the bridge. Behind him he could feel the fey. They would have him in a moment. He shoved himself off the wall and ran faster. Serena was just a few paces ahead. She looked back, and her eyes grew wide with panic. “Tauren! Run!”

      Tauren drove all his strength into his legs and reached out, shoving Serena hard. “Don’t look back!” he screamed.

      Serena cried out, stumbling forward. She tripped over the end of the bridge and tumbled into the soft, green grass. She lay there, stunned by some force that had driven into her when she fell across the border.

      The was a crack like thunder, and the bridge trembled.

      Tauren took another stumbling step and fell to his knees. Cold hands grabbed him from behind and threw him down onto the bridge. Tauren cried out but had no strength to fight. One of the fey drew a dagger and Tauren made one desperate lunge, reaching his hand out toward freedom. The fey grabbed him and slammed him down into the bridge. Then, he drove his dagger into Tauren’s back.

      Pain tore through every inch of Tauren and all his strength drained away as he collapsed to the stone ground. His lashes fluttered a moment, and then his eyes drifted closed.

      In front of him, the sun burst over the horizon, painting the sky with the golden light of dawn, and the bridge between the world of men and fey collapsed.

      ***

      Serena McLairen opened her eyes and slowly sat up. She was lying in a grassy field and the sun was shining down on her. Slowly she stood up and shielded her eyes. Below her was a very familiar castle. Her father’s. Serena rubbed her face with her hands. “I must have fallen asleep out here last night. I really should not have gone out here after dark. But oh, what a horrid, horrid dream.”

      She looked about. For some reason that she could not explain, she felt as though someone was supposed to be with her. She blinked again and rubbed her fingers over the back of her left hand. Looking down, she saw a darker patch of skin. “I don’t remember that birthmark,” she murmured. “It… it almost looks like a sun.”

      She slowly turned and looked behind her. A few yards away was the edge of a cliff, and beyond that stretched wide blue sky. Serena moved a few paces toward the cliff. Something bright was bobbing in the breeze, and she dropped to the ground to look. It was the purest of white flowers she had ever seen. “It looks like moonlight,” she breathed. Tipping the flower toward her, she saw that in the center was a streak of red, the deep color of blood.

      Serena cupped the flower in her hands and looked at it for a long, long time. “It reminds me of a dream I once had…”

      After a moment, she stood up and began to walk away toward her father’s castle, swinging her arms in the breeze.

       

      The End

       

       

       

       

      Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

      #189502
      Elishavet Elroi
      @elishavet-pidyon
        • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
        • Total Posts: 1101

        @rae

        Here it is in all it’s ESL by a native English speaker glory.

        https://docs.google.com/document/d/1v4ZJMMpmLEv0rVVsb7mpQG6OI0Xt1XpeWYZU5_934nc/edit?usp=drivesdk

        You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

        #189503
        Liberty
        @liberty
          • Rank: Loyal Sidekick
          • Total Posts: 117

          @ellette-giselle

           

          Wow, thanks! (I was actually intending to write more, but I ran out of time! Thankfully, where I’d ended was a good spot!)

          My place beside you, My blood for yours, Till the Green Ember rises, Or the end of the world!

          #189504
          Elishavet Elroi
          @elishavet-pidyon
            • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
            • Total Posts: 1101

            @ellette-giselle

            Oh, interesting! I love the Celtic folklore inspiration. Fairies are so creepy. XD It’s a fascinating premise.

            You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

            #189505
            Ellette Giselle
            @ellette-giselle
              • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
              • Total Posts: 1792

              @liberty

              Your welcome. It was actually really good the way you left it. I like unfinished short stories because it forces the reader to come up with an ending. (I dislike that technique when authors do it with a series or novel though. I feel cheated) But yeah, it was really good.

               


              @elishavet-pidyon

              Thank you! I wanted to try to do something really different then everyone else, because this story prompt could end up having a lot of very similar stories.

               

              I’m glad it’s fascinating! I was inspired by a Celtic song I heard (I put a line or two from it at the very beginning)

               

               

               

              Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

              #189507
              Koshka
              @koshka
                • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                • Total Posts: 1629

                I forgot to do this. I’ll try to join in another time though.


                @ellette-giselle

                O.O Wowzers. I knew he would die, but I hoped she’d remember him.


                @elishavet-pidyon

                EEEEEE. You know what I think of this story. =D

                First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
                Fork the Gork

                #189508
                Koshka
                @koshka
                  • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                  • Total Posts: 1629

                  And yes, Celtic fairies are horrifying.

                  First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
                  Fork the Gork

                  #189509
                  Ellette Giselle
                  @ellette-giselle
                    • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                    • Total Posts: 1792

                    @koshka

                    Yeah. I know. That part is sad. Sadder then him dying. But in a way it’s also sweet because now she can go through life never having to deal with that trauma.

                    Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

                    #189510
                    Koshka
                    @koshka
                      • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                      • Total Posts: 1629

                      @ellette-giselle

                      Yep. Poor kiddos. Who knows, she may decide to write a story based on that “wild dream” and accidentally keep his memory (the things an author thinks).

                      At least they didn’t get sacrificed.

                      First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
                      Fork the Gork

                      #189511
                      Ellette Giselle
                      @ellette-giselle
                        • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                        • Total Posts: 1792

                        @elishavet-pidyon

                        OH MY GOODNESS!!!

                        I was tearing up so bad!

                        I love the different meanings the prompt had in your story! His physical scar, but also her unseen one.

                        SO GOOD!

                        Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

                        #189512
                        Ellette Giselle
                        @ellette-giselle
                          • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                          • Total Posts: 1792

                          @koshka

                          maybe.

                          At least they didn’t get sacrificed.

                          Yeah! No kidding!

                           

                          I once read a book that is actually a true story about the “fey” which actually happened to be a druid cult. You will never look at Halloween the same way again. I mean, our family already didn’t calibrate it, but that book makes you feel a little sick when you watch kids trick-or-treating.

                           

                          It is a VERY good book though, and I highly recommend. Such a beautiful, beautiful story!

                          The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope

                           

                           

                          Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

                          #189513
                          Elishavet Elroi
                          @elishavet-pidyon
                            • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                            • Total Posts: 1101

                            @ellette-giselle

                            Aw, thanks! (Why is it so fulfilling to hear your writing made someone cry? XD)

                            You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

                            #189514
                            Ellette Giselle
                            @ellette-giselle
                              • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                              • Total Posts: 1792

                              @elishavet-pidyon

                              Idk, I love hearing that my writing made someone cry.

                              I think it’s because it makes us happy to know that we wrote in a way that made people care about our characters enough to cry.

                              Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

                              #189515
                              Elishavet Elroi
                              @elishavet-pidyon
                                • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                                • Total Posts: 1101

                                @ellette-giselle

                                Very true. It’s so much fun. XD I would add that we hope if we can connect to a reader’s heart, we can impact them in the long run.

                                You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan

                                #189516
                                Ellette Giselle
                                @ellette-giselle
                                  • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                                  • Total Posts: 1792

                                  @elishavet-pidyon

                                  oh of course. 100%

                                  But them crying shows you made the connection! 😉

                                  Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God

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