The sentries were taken out silently. Aalen and Ashalla moved quickly into the camp. In the center was a fire-pit still burning. While Ashalla took care of the drunken stragglers Aalen spied the largest tent and silently went inside.
She roused their leader awake. He looked confused.
“I thought we had killed you all.” he said.
“Why destroy my village?”
“I was only acting under orders. We wanted your forest for timber but we knew your people wouldn’t like that. So we decided to get rid of you. The Baron sent us.”
Aalen stuck her knife in his throat.
Aalen’s Story: previous episode.
This was written with the prompt fire provided by the Carrot Ranch April 4 Flash Fiction Challenge.
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Fire Breath by Caio Monteiro
It’s time for the monthly Jedigirl Flash Fiction Challenge. Sadly last months didn’t get a response, but I’m pressing on regardless. What is magic? Things can be magic like experiences or relationships we have with people. Magic spells can create or destroy, bewitch or befuddle, protect or make vulnerable. Magic can save us from the mundane, give us new insights, and strip away the veneer of illusion or create them. It can transport us to new worlds or let us see our own one in a new way.
Write a story, a poem, or a piece of fiction using the prompt magic (or magical, magician, etc.) in 100 words exactly. Please either post a link or a pingback to your work in the comments. And please have fun with it 🙂
Bronwyn stood her ground as the dragon rose up before her…
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The New World
“What happened to the original inhabitants of this planet?” my daughter asked.
“We left the Old World after it became too polluted and when we arrived at this New World it was a verdant paradise with an indigenous population. They helped us survive the first few years by providing food and shelter. Once we built up our settlements we took their lands, as we needed the resources. We moved their survivors onto reserves where they mostly died out from sickness and disease. They’re gone now.”
We both looked out onto the now crowded skyline of skyscrapers and hazy skies.
This was written with the prompt Old World provided by Carrot Ranch’s August 22 Flash Fiction Challenge.
©2019 Joanne Fisher