Tag: fantasy authors

Flash Fiction Friday: Lost Light

Ariel Paiement

For this week’s flash fiction, I have a piece about Sedra and her sister, Albrith. The piece takes place some time after Rith and Banach were killed.

~~~

The Pathway pulsated in the dim light after Sedra had sent all the soldiers away. Albrith rubbed her arms and stared at the portal with a frown. “Why are we out here, Sedra? It’s cold, and it’s past midnight.”

Sedra settled onto the grass with a smile and stared up at the moon. “Can’t I want to spend time with my favorite sibling?”

“Your only sibling now.”

“You shouldn’t sound so upset.” Sedra glanced up at her. “Rith was over the line. He started the war, and then he slowly went mad. You saved him from a much worse end.”

“Did I?”

“You were the light to his darkness for a reason, Brith.”

“I don’t…” Albrith trailed off and flopped down on the ground, her gaze still on the Pathway. Her sister wouldn’t understand. She didn’t even understand why she felt this way. But at the end of the day, she didn’t feel as if she’d made the right choice in being her brother’s executioner.

Sedra had been insisting since that day that she had to be the one to do it, that she’d be hailed in history as a hero. But if she was heroic, why did she feel so dirty? She’d always been close with Rith, and the awful look of betrayal in his eyes when she’d taken his life lingered in her mind. She doubted it would ever fade. He hadn’t seemed insane. Only resigned and hurt. Somehow, in ways she hadn’t even realized, the two of them had drifted apart. She’d chosen her older sister, and in doing so, she’d left her younger brother in the dark alone. Some sister she was.

“What are you thinking about?”

Albrith blinked and tilted her head back to look at the stars. Did he watch them from After with the gods? If he did, he probably hated her and wished he could strike her down for her sin. She shouldn’t have taken his life, even if it was in an attempt to spare him from an even worse life ahead. “I don’t think I made the right choice.”

Sedra stood and brushed the grass from her skirts. “What do you mean? What choice?”

Albrith shook her head and clambered to her feet. “Never mind.” She approached the Pathway with a sigh. “I just miss the days when everything was uncomplicated.”

“Everything could be uncomplicated again.” Her sister’s voice tightened. “I miss the days when it was simple too.”

Albrith frowned and continued to stare into the Pathway. Nothing would be simple ever again. She’d made her choice. It had been the wrong one. She turned to face her sister. Sedra’s palm glowed with light and frost. She contemplated her hand before looking back up to her sister. “It could be simple again, Albrith. I can make it simple.”

Sedra’s gaze held her in place, and she noticed the coldness lurking there for the first time. How had she missed it before. It was clearer than light. Rith had never been the one going mad. It was Sedra who had gone over the edge. She took a step back and shook her head. “I don’t want that. It’ll never be simple again, Sedra. I killed him, and he never even deserved it. Gods, I thought I was saving him.” Albrith drew on her light but released it a moment later. “I wasn’t saving him. He never needed saving. But I killed him trying to cure what was never diseased.”

Sedra snorted. “You always were so philosophical. Yes, you killed a man who was about as sane as they come, though sickeningly unambitious. Thanks for getting rid of him, by the way. Now you’re going to make sure that no one ever leaves this planet to tell everyone back on Riladia what I’ve done here.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, but I do. You’ve served your purpose.” 

The ice grew, and words spilled from Sedra’s lips, but Albrith stayed frozen in place. How had she managed to mess up so badly? She swallowed back the tears. Whatever her death was supposed to accomplish, she deserved it. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A life for a life.

The cold blasted through her chest.

Her life for his life.

Her light snuffed out, and for the first time since her birth, darkness engulfed her world.

~~~

That’s it for this week, guys! I hope you enjoyed it. If you have something you’d like to see on Flash Fiction Fridays, feel free to leave your suggestion in the comments below. I’m always happy for ideas!

Sunday Sub-Genres: Weird Fantasy

Ariel Paiement

Introduction

This week, we’re going to talk about weird fantasy. Weird fantasy is a little bit more of an odd genre, but it’s no less popular for it. People who like fantasy and horror will likely find that they enjoy weird fantasy. So let’s take a look.

Defining Weird Fantasy

Weird fantasy is a sub-genre of speculative fiction that started with H.P. Lovecraft. Pinning down exactly what the genre is can be a bit difficult since it’s a mix of several things. Generally speaking, weird fantasy is a blend between horror, paranormal, and fantasy genres. However, it isn’t uncommon for the genre to include strange, nontraditional aliens, so science fiction can be blended in as well.

The genre typically avoids the typical players in the paranormal scene, such as vampires, werewolves, and ghosts, or vastly reinvents them for the purposes of the genre. So if you’re looking for these features in the genre, you won’t find them. At least, not as you may have expected to.

It should be noted that weird fantasy is neither horror or Gothic fantasy but is instead something entirely different that cannot be classified in either genre. This is likely owing to the blending of horror, paranormal, fantasy, and sci-fi.

Writing Weird Fantasy

Weird fantasy can describe a lot of things, but let’s take a look at how you can write any type of weird fiction by using the main elements and moods of weird fiction.

Main Elements of Every Weird Fantasy

Before we jump into the four types of weird fiction or fantasy, let’s cover the basic elements that are present in all of them. First, every weird fantasy must contain some aspect of underlying horror or abnormality, usually in the form of some object or entity. Second, it should contain the general effects of horror. Third, it needs an object to focus or embody the horror or abnormality with. Fourth, it should contain the appropriate fear responses to the horror. And fifth and finally, it should contain the effects of the horror on the given situation.

Mood and Focus #1

The first type is one where the mood and focus is one how the marvel or horror relates to some event, condition, or phenomenon. Usually, these types of weird fantasy work well with a mood focused on a general situation, condition, legend, or intellectual subject. It can also work well with a mood that expresses a pictorial concept.

Mood and Focus #2

The second type focuses on the actions of people in response to the marvel or phenomenon. This one works better with a mood expressing a specific feeling or a mood that expresses a specific dramatic situation or climax.

Pivotal Points of Weird Fantasy

No matter what, weird fantasy should always have a focus on the effects of the weird on the world. The truly weird cannot fail to have an impact, and if people in your novel treat it as though it doesn’t or as if it is commonplace, it ceases to be weird and becomes poorly written as a result.

Conclusion

Weird fantasy is definitely a bit of a strange genre within speculative fiction and fantasy. However, for those who enjoy clear horror aspects blended with fantasy, paranormal, and sci-fi, weird fantasy is a great genre to write. If you’re thinking about experimenting with it, the aspects discussed above should be a good starting place for you to do so. So now, all that remains is to go do it.

Further Reading and Resources

Disclaimer: I don’t really read much in the way of weird fantasy, so none of the books below are ones I’m going to suggest for children since weird fantasy can get pretty dark and I haven’t read any of them.

H.P Lovecraft’s Call of Cthulu and Other Weird Stories

Arthur Machen’s The White People

Laird Barron’s The Imago Sequence

Sunday Sub-Genres: Arcanepunk Fantasy

Ariel Paiement

Introduction

Arcanepunk is one of those sub-genres of fantasy that mixes multiple aspects of different genres together. This can make it an interesting genre to work with if you enjoy mixing parts from different genres or sub-genres together. If you aren’t fond of doing that and prefer something that’s very cut-and-dry, however, this may not be the genre for you. That said, let’s take a look!

Defining Arcanepunk Fantasy

Arcanepunk fantasy is an intriguing mix of science and magic. Often, the world may feel very old fashioned and can borrow from steampunk or other fantasy genres that have a more archaic feel to them. However, the technology itself is typically 19th century or higher in its advancement, and the people generally have access to it. Not everyone will be studied in it like a wizard or scientist might be, but they have a general knowledge that can be utilized in daily life.

The other interesting point that arcanepunk focuses on is the way magic and science have developed together. This is the genre where you’ll see crystal power sources replacing coal or glyphs replacing electricity in a device. This makes for quite an interesting combination of magic and science in the devices people use on a daily basis.

Writing Arcanepunk Fantasy

When it comes to writing arcanepunk, authors are faced with a few unique challenges. Let’s take a look at a few.

Magic and Tech Development

The first challenge facing writers is the unique combination of magic and technology. To begin with, anyone writing arcanepunk has to choose what level of magic and tech their world will possess. But in doing so, they also have to remember that magic and technology developed together. So, they have to determine how magic will be interwoven with the technology that people use on a daily basis. This may involve replacement of power sources with magical powerhouses or spells to power sections of an otherwise technological device. Or perhaps the entire device needs magic to operate but is built entirely with machinery and technology?

This is what an author of arcanepunk has to think about. It’s similar to steampunk in that sense since steampunk also requires a writer to determine how to weave two systems that otherwise wouldn’t coexist together. But this can also make arcanepunk a lot of fun to work with because it provides boundless opportunities for invention and creation to go on while building the world. 

Worlds

Unlike steampunk, which is limited to Victorian-style settings, arcanepunk can be used in almost any type of setting. The genre often does take on an old-fashioned feel, as I mentioned earlier, but it doesn’t have to and it isn’t limited to only Victorian-style settings. This leaves you quite a bit of leeway to create your world in an arcanepunk fantasy novel.

Those who don’t like being restricted by the setting requirements of steampunk but still prefer an old-fashioned feel with magic and science intertwined may like arcanepunk for precisely the freedom this allows. The sub-genre may be more obscure, but it’s definitely more broad with more freedom to experiment and explore. Additionally, for those of you who love sci-fi and fantasy, this is a nice in-between since it blends the two. So, there is that.

Institutions and Governments

Since your society is one that possesses both tech and magic on a level that makes it easy for the average Joe to use it, it makes sense that there would be governments to regulate the use of it. Governments would be more concerned about regulating how the tech and magic is used to avoid mass weaponizing of inventions.

On the other hand, if your society has all this stuff, someone has to build it, and they had to learn somewhere. So institutions for learning magic and technology are also frequent features in arcanepunk. These institutions are the drivers behind the world’s leading scientists and magicians because they trained those people. Not only that, they may do a lot of research themselves since they have so many smart people gathered in one place to teach society’s brightest students. 

The impact of governmental and institutional rule will vary depending on the arcanepunk story and its focus, but this is a factor that can heavily impact the world and how it develops, so take some time to consider it. Even if the government or institution doesn’t factor in directly, it can have a long-reaching arm that impacts the story indirectly.

Conclusion

That’s it on arcanepunk, everybody! Next time, we’ll be taking a look at weird fantasy, a sub-genre that heads an entirely different direction. But for now, as usual, I have a list of further reading materials for interested parties! If you have a question or a suggestion for me regarding Sunday Sub-Genres, feel free to leave a comment below. I’m always open for questions and suggestions.

Further Reading and Resources

**Randall Garrett’s Too Many Magicians

Terry Prachett’s Discworld series (Suitable for mid-to-older teens. Not meant for younger children, really, though individual books may be alright.)

**Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman’s Darksword Trilogy

Jonathan Stroud’s Bartimaeus Trilogy (Children’s fantasy)

Flash Fiction Friday – Equinox Queen

Ariel Paiement

This week, I’ve got a flash fiction post that gives a glimpse into the lives of Leo’s parents before he was born. This takes place just after Leo’s father won Anne in the Equinox Hunt. The piece does contain some mild content that makes it best for those 13 and up. Nothing is shown or described. Just some mentions of violence and assault, but I know some readers may not be comfortable with this.

~~~

Anne ducked her head and watched the festivities go on around her. She’d tried her best not to end up here. But it hadn’t been good enough. She’d still lost, and now she was his. His wife. His trophy. Caladhor’s gaze roved over her, bringing with it reminders of the violence in the forest. Why hadn’t she run harder, faster?

She dropped her attention to her lap, refused to give him the satisfaction of her focus. He’d taken everything from her, just like the slavers had. Oh, he promised her that life would be better now that she was his. But she knew it wouldn’t be.

She knew what really went on behind closed doors. The tent walls were thin in the encampment. And no woman ever stayed completely silent when being forced. Even if she knew no help was coming. Instinct demanded that they at least try.

And she’d tried.

The men streamed up to their table, congratulated Caladhor, and leered at her. She shrank back in her seat. Caladhor didn’t rebuke them for their openly lustful gazes, but he also didn’t encourage it. Would he let them have her if they asked? Other women had suffered that fate after being crowned the Equinox Queen. If her King wasn’t pleased with her, he might loan her out to other men until she learned to please him as demanded. Ann bit her lip. Most women who were placed in that situation didn’t make it.

She stole a glance at Caladhor. He met her darting gaze with a wolfish smile and raised his wine glass to her. She stared down at her hands where they rested in her lap. Her fingers trembled, and her stomach flipped. What would he do to her if she didn’t please him?

“You look miserable.”

Her head snapped up. “W-what?”

“You look miserable.” Caladhor crossed his arms, nodded to a few passerbys who congratulated him. “You’ve been given one of the highest honors a woman of Ishtral can gain, but you look like someone has sentenced you to death.”

She turned her head away and choked back a sob. What did he expect? She had less freedom here than she’d had as a slave before Kiarhsu bought her, forced her to become a part of the Argosian chapter of Ishtral. Things had seemed better until Caladhor and other men started taking interest.

“What’s wrong, then? Not me, certainly.” He snorted. “You’re now the first wife of one of the elite of Ishtral. You’ll never want for anything.”

Except freedom. Affection. Tenderness. Everything that mattered in life. She gritted her teeth, and her fingers curled into fists.

“Answer me.” His voice deepened, threatened violence if she didn’t obey.

Tipping her head up, she turned to look at him. “How could you think this is an honor? I’m more a slave than ever before.”

“Nonsense. You’re going to be given the best the world can offer. I’m a generous man, Anne.”

What was his definition of generous? Certainly not hers.

“You don’t believe me. But I can be. If you’re good, if you do what you’re told, I’ll give you anything you desire. Anything at all. Even if you ask to keep any daughters you bear me. I’ll grant that wish too.”

Generous, for an Ishtralian. Girls were pawns at best and chattel at worst as far as Ishtralians were concerned. She narrowed her eyes. Was he serious? Or was he simply saying it to placate her? “I thought girls were useless burdens.”

“Not in my position. I can afford them, and I can get a high price from whoever wishes to wed our daughters.”

That was it then. She stiffened. It always went back to the money with him. Their daughters might be well-groomed, but they’d still be no better than property. She lowered her head again to head the tears welling up in her eyes. What had she done to anger the gods so greatly? Why would they allow such awful things to happen to her? To the world?

The events of the evening ran through her mind like cold water. She trembled as the festivities continued and more and more couples broke away from the fire to find their beds. Soon, she’d spend her wedding night with Caladhor. If the rough handling in the forest was any indicator, it wouldn’t be a good night.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she closed her eyes with a deep breath. This was life now. She’d just have to make the best of it and hope for an escape. Maybe if she bore a son for Caladhor, he’d leave her alone. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

She wiped away the tears when Caladhor wasn’t looking and squared her shoulders. There was no other choice. She would endure, and she would fight in the shadows to make sure that her children never became a monster like the one sitting beside her. She would wage war in her own way and pray that it would close in freedom or death.

Because if she couldn’t have her freedom, she would rather not live at all.

~~~

That’s all for this week! If you enjoyed it or would like to comment on it, please leave your feedback in the comments below. Have suggestions or things you’d like to see in future Flash Fiction Fridays? Leave those in the comments too!

Sunday Sub-genres: Contemporary Fantasy

Ariel Paiement

This week, on Sunday Sub-Genres, we’re looking at Contemporary Fantasy. We actually already discussed one of the sub-genres of Contemporary Fantasy in this article on Urban Fantasy. But this week, let’s look at the sub-genre that started Urban Fantasy.

Defining Contemporary Fantasy

Contemporary fantasy is fantasy that’s set in the time period of the writer. For those of us writing today, it would be present time. For those who wrote contemporary fantasy in the past, it would’ve been whatever was modern day for them.

The key with contemporary fantasy, much like with urban fantasy, is that the magical elements and creatures are very rarely seen or understood as such. They live hidden in the shadows of our world or spill into our world from alternate worlds not known to the general populace. This distinctive take on magic is the hallmark of contemporary and urban fantasy both, which is easy to understand since urban fantasy branched off from contemporary fantasy in the first place.

Of note is the fact that the setting for contemporary fantasy does not have to be in a city or the outskirts of one like urban fantasy does. In fact, often the only thing that makes something urban fantasy instead of contemporary is a city setting instead of a place that isn’t city or suburb.

Writing Urban Fantasy

Secret Worlds

One of the tricks with contemporary (also known as modern) fantasy is that the world of the fantastical is a secret. Somehow, it has managed to operate under the radar so that few, if any, humans know about it. How this works is something that each individual author must determine. But there must be an explanation, otherwise our suspense of belief or our willingness to accept things that we wouldn’t otherwise accept will be severely challenged.

There are many ways authors go about achieving this. You have methods like Cassandra Clare’s Immortal Instruments where the creatures disguise themselves as human or are able to cloak themselves from human eyes altogether. Other authors have utilized alternate worlds.

I myself am a fan of mixing the two and using both the element of disguise and the idea of travel between different realms to keep the mortal humans in novels from discovering the world of the fantastical.

These are all valid options, and what you choose to do is up to you and the story you want to tell. But before you do anything else, you should decide how this very key element of your story will work. Everything else hinges on this.

Systems of Magic

At some point, I’ll have an entire article that goes into this subject because it’s detailed and has many caveats to it. But for now, let’s just say that there are plenty of options available to choose from for your system. What you do is, once again, entirely up to you. But what you choose will also depend on the first element you discussed because how you keep things hushed up when funny, magical stuff happens will define, to some extent, what sort of magic you can have.

After all, it’s kind of hard to cover up two giants in the sky throwing lightning bolts at each other if a bunch of people see it and take pictures. Unless you have some explanation for how no one would see that or understand what was going on, this sort of possibility in your magic system just won’t fly.

So spend some time working out how magic works. Even if it’s hidden, it’s still going to be an undercurrent, or even a pivotal piece, in how your world operates. Just because it’s under the radar doesn’t mean it isn’t important.

Creatures and Mythology

Inevitably, modern or contemporary fantasy authors seem to want to include werewolves, vampires, and the rest of that crew. While there’s nothing wrong with this, if your story is going to feature them, you need to define them. I think, after seeing the myriad of supernatural shows and books that cropped up both before and after Twilight, we all understand that no one has exactly the same take on vampires, werewolves, or really any supernatural creature. So make sure you’re clear about what your creatures are and are not up front.

Along with this, the idea of including gods and mythology in contemporary fantasy has become more and more popular over the years. There’s not something that’s necessarily wrong with this, but it does raise a few questions. If they’re there for name recognition only, it’s probably not a big deal. But if they’re going to be a main part of the story, you have to start asking yourself if they really need to be there and, if they do, why they don’t just solve all the problems. If you’re going to include them, you’d better answer these two questions. Otherwise, you may run into some serious problems with these types of characters.

Conclusion

Contemporary or modern fantasy can be a lot of fun for writers. It allows them to bring fantasy into a setting they know best: the modern world all around them. Often, it also allows them to use places or settings that are near and dear to their hearts, making the locations in the book that much more real and vivid.

I’ve given you just a few of the things you need to think about when starting into contemporary fantasy, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg of what you could go into when planning or working on modern fantasy. I encourage you to keep exploring. Read some of the books listed below to get a better grasp on the genre and what’s possible with it, and spend some time looking into how to write it if you’re just starting out.

Whatever you do, don’t be afraid to give it a try! It might be exactly the thing for you. And if not, that’s okay. You learned something new about yourself.

If you have suggestions for contemporary fantasy novels, please feel free to leave it in the comments! If it isn’t clean or YA-appropriate, please mark it as such so younger readers or parents looking for books for their children know to steer clear.

Have another tip for writing contemporary fantasy that I didn’t cover? Share that in the comments too! I’d love to see what those of you who frequently (or even not-so-frequently) have learned about writing in this sub-genre.

Further Reading and Resources

As always, I mark things that aren’t appropriate for younger audiences with a note on the age level (if it isn’t 18+) and one star. If I haven’t read it yet, I mark it with two stars so everyone knows I’m not necessarily recommending the content for younger readers.

J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series

**Neil Gaiman’s American Gods

**Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files

Ransom Riggs’ Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (There’s a movie adaptation of this now, I believe, and it was pretty good. Suitable for pre-teens and teens. As far as I know, the book is also good. It’s YA.)

Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series

Cassandra Clare’s City of Bones (This is also considered urban fantasy since it takes place in New York and Brooklyn.)

Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are (This is one that’s actually suitable for little kids. It’s a kids’ picture book.)

C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Madeline L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time

Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl series (If your younger readers like adventure and genius kids, this is a great series for them. It was, and honestly still is, one of my favorite children’s and juvenile fiction series.)

Flash Fiction Fridays: Warrior Queen

Ariel Paiement

Hey, everyone! I’m back this week with another Flash Fiction Friday. This week’s flash fiction focuses on Yuldha, the young Queen of Elventar, as she faces the oncoming army from Aleshtain. Determined not to let them take what is hers and her people’s, she stands in defense of their capital city.

~~~

Yuldha leaned over the parapet of the stone wall, squinting at the oncoming hoard. They’d be here in less than ten minutes. She pushed herself away from the edge of the wall and retreated. Close enough for archers to get a lucky shot. Wouldn’t that make King Myranor happy? The lucky archer who got a shot on her would be rewarded handsomely. Assuming Myranor was in a mood to have her dead instead of alive.

She pressed her back against the cool stone of the walkway’s back wall. Who knew what his mood would be? Really, what had the king expected? That she, Queen of a realm who hated his with an eternal passion, would accept his offer? Wed him and hand over the kingdom his ancestors had been trying to fell for centuries? She glared out across the plains. The man was a fool.

“My Lady, please come down from there! The archers are within range, and the men await your orders.”

Yuldha glanced down at the stairs leading into the keep. Her glare faded, and the corners of her mouth twitched up in a smile. “You worry too much, Lord Trydan.”

Trydan grinned. “It’s my job as the Matriarch’s Sword, my Lady.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You shouldn’t call yourself by your official title.”

“Why not?” He raised a brow. “Would you prefer some other title?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she offered him an indulgent smile. Ever persistent in his advances. She had to admire that. And she wasn’t going to lie. His flirtatious manner warmed her, particularly since she was the only one on the receiving end. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and stalked to the stairs. A Queen still had to keep up pretenses. She couldn’t act the innocent maiden or starry-eyed damsel with anyone. Not in public, at least. “Of course not. It would go to your head, Dhan.”

He laughed and offered her a hand down the last few steps. “I’m sure you’d keep me in my place, Yul.”

She shot him a glare. “You’re not to call me that in public. You know that.”

“Why not?” The playful smirk replaced the warm smile.

She squeezed his hand until he hissed and looked away. “Because I said so. You shouldn’t need me to explain to you how it looks for Elventar’s warrior queen to lower her guard for a mere man.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not just any man, Yul,” he murmured.

“We’re in a war, Trydan.” Heat flooded her, belying the ice she’d imbued in her tone. “I don’t have time to be weak. And after what that Rith-cursed savage pulled, I’m not inclined to consider anyone.”

He squeezed her hand in return, but the pressure was gentle and comforting. “Someday you will be. You’re too strong to let him ruin you for love, my warrior Queen.”

She tugged her hand from his grasp even though she wanted to leave it there, to let him comfort her and tell her everything would be fine. Well, there was time enough for that later. If they survived this battle. She strode ahead, leaving Dhan behind to consider his words and her obvious cold shoulder. If he still chased after her, maybe—and that was a big maybe—she’d consider it. After all, if Elventar survived this siege—and she was determined it would—her line would need to continue somehow. Dhan was a good choice. Her lips curved up in a fierce smile.

Her soldiers snapped to attention as she stalked into the open courtyard. She waited as they saluted and greeted her, hands thumping to their chests over their hearts. In response, she bowed, silently showing her respect for their unspoken vow of protection. Then she straightened and met their gazes. “Men and women of Elventar, today we fight. Let’s show Aleshtain they can’t have our home no matter what they try!”

The men and women roared their approval, slamming the butts of spears to the ground or rattling swords against spears. She smiled, resting a hand on the sword sheathed at her hip. King Myranor was going to rue the day he ever crossed her. He thought he could barge in here and take her and her kingdom by force? Well, she’d show him what happened to those dumb enough to try.

~~~

That’s it for this Friday, folks! I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you enjoyed this week’s flash fiction or have anything you’d like to ask, feel free to drop it in the comments below.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Claiming Rhubhian

Ariel Paiement

In Bane of Ashkarith, readers are introduced to Dhiabhan and Rhubhian, an air captain and a slave from Aleshtain. This short piece shows how Dhiabhan met Rhubhian. Their story will be told in my upcoming novella, Traitor Prince of Aleshtain. So, if you enjoyed these two in Bane of Ashkarith and are hoping for more, keep an eye out for that. For now, I hope you enjoy this Flash Fiction Friday.

~~~

Eras tried not to toy with the hem of his tunic while he waited for the day’s events to begin. Why had he come to court today, again? Right. His father had insisted. He shot his father a hard glare from where he stood behind the throne. Didn’t even have the decency to have a chair, let alone a proper throne, erected for his heir. His scowl deepened, and his gut clenched. Worse still, he was here just so he could watch the slave masters parade their newest wares about for his father. Anything for Rabhor Thilain.

His stomach flipped. Which unlucky girl would end up in his father’s harem this afternoon? He closed his eyes, swallowing back bile. He just hoped it would be over soon. The five minutes they’d been waiting stretched out until it felt like twenty. How much longer until he could be done with this? Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at his father.

The doors finally swung open just as he couldn’t take any more. The page strode in and bowed stiffly. Eras eyed the man’s ballooning pants and striped shoes. The newest fashion in court? Ridiculous as usual.

“My liege, the merchants have brought their wares for your examination.” The page stepped to the side and nodded to the men waiting a few feet down the hall.

They made it sound so benign. As if they weren’t trafficking humans. They used nice, pretty words to hide the ugly, vicious truth. Typical. His attention fixed on the slaves being prodded into the room. He let his gaze wander over the row of women. His eyes snagged on the last woman in line. Two guards flanked her, holding her arms and dragging her in. The others before her had walked in placidly, their heads down and shoulders slumped.

But not this one. Each step, she took was controlled and tightly contained as if she would burst into flight at any moment. She walked between her captors with her head held high, a glower on her pretty features. It was as if she was born a goddess and was disgusted by the banality of the humans beneath her. That made him snicker. Maybe he should take up poetry.

His father glared at him, and he sobered, returning his focus to the line of slaves. He shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she from? Not from any of the mainland kingdoms. Perhaps from one of the colonies Argos had established on the Rithweald? No, not with that complexion. Her blue-black hair reminded him more of the ambassadors from Faelkish held. Strange. How had they captured her?

She met his gaze with her smoldering brown eyes. Swallowing, he glanced over at his father. The man’s gaze had also settled on the girl with defiance in her eyes. Rith curse him! He’d ruin the girl. Eras gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. Yes, his father would destroy her. But what was he to do about it? Forcing his fists to relax, he stared at the polished wooden doors behind the traders. He couldn’t intervene here.

The slave traders’ ring leader stepped forward, his head still bowed in respect. “Your Eminence, do you see anything you like?”

His father’s gaze raked over the line of slaves. “You brought me a rather dull lot this time.”

Dull? Eras raised a brow. None of them appeared dull to him. Unless, by dull his father meant they had no will. That, at least, was true.

“Surely there is something that can interest you? We have, for instance, this lovely young woman from Brithos. She was taken on a recent raid.” The trader gestured to a green-eyed slip of a girl.

Barely fifteen, he guessed.

“Or perhaps you prefer a bit more exotic option.” The slaver turned to the woman who’d been last in line. “We have this one from Faelkish. She’s a bit of a hellion, but I’m sure your Grace could tame her.”

Did he really have to be so smug? Eras clenched his fists at his side. No one should tame her at all. How dare they speak this way about human beings?

“Let the Crown Prince choose first.” His father waved a hand at him.

He froze. Let him pick? His father knew he wouldn’t take a slave. The defiant girl’s gaze fixed on his again. He swallowed and broke eye contact. Had he imagined the hope in her eyes? “I see nothing of interest.” He peeked at the girl from beneath lowered lashes.

Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted to his father.

“Well, I see only one that I like. I’ll take the Faelkish—”

Eras’s heart wrenched, and his chest tightened. He could stop this. He could keep at least one safe from his father. Maybe. He stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Wait!”

His father shifted on his throne and raised a brow with a huff. “What is it?”

“I—” Eras met her now-blank stare. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s time I took on a slave or two after all.”

“And?” Rubhor drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“I’m heir to the throne…” He stared at the girl. She’d probably hate him for what he was about to say, but it was the only way to save her from his Rabhor’s clutches. “It’s about time I built my harem. The future God-king incarnate shouldn’t be without wives and concubines.” He hoped there was a suitable amount of contempt in his voice. Hoped his father would know that even in this, Eras was mocking him.

The answering frown told him that last comment had done its job. He bit his lip and glanced at the girl in green. Her expression went from hopeful to vacant. But a spark of anger still simmered in her empty stare. His gut clenched, and he tried not to think about how she must view him now. A necessary evil.

He offered his father a saccharine smile. “As such, I’d like the Faelkishian girl.”

His father’s frown deepened. “I—”

“You said I could pick.” Eras lowered his voice. “Do you really want to make a scene in front of everyone?”

That gained him a narrow-eyed stare. But his father finally nodded and lifted a hand toward the trader. “It seems my son has chosen.” His lips curved into a sly smirk. “I’m glad to see he isn’t as touched in the head as I thought. He still appreciates a beautiful woman.”

The traders laughed, but the atmosphere felt heavy now. Their attention remained fixed on him and his father like hawks watching prey. Waiting for the showdown to begin, no doubt. Too bad. He wasn’t planning on a fight. Not if his father would give him his way. He’d ignore the insults and jibes about his romantic inclinations if it meant saving her from his father.

“Well, you heard him, Rhubhian.” The head trader glared at the sullen girl. “Go to him.”

She didn’t budge. Instead, she just shot the man a venomous look and planted her feet on the marble floor. Eras raised a brow. Didn’t she know she’d end up getting into trouble behaving that way? He sighed. “Father, perhaps I might be dismissed? I should settle my newly acquired asset somewhere secure.”

His father huffed but nodded. “Go on, then. Take her and get out of my sight.”

Eras shot him a cold glare. Was that really any way to deal with the Crown Prince? For someone who constantly insisted Eras behave befitting his station, the man seemed awfully determined to undermine him. He stalked down the steps of the dais and stopped in front of Rhubhian. Now that he was closer, he could see how tightly the guards were holding her upper arms. They’d leave bruises that way. His jaw clenched. “Release her. Now.”

The guards eyed him, but they did as asked, backing away to leave the two of them standing face-to-face alone. Eras resisted the urge to reach out, to tell her that everything would be alright now. He couldn’t let his father see that this girl mattered at all. He could still lose her if his father changed his mind. Leaning closer, he murmured, “Go along with what I say, and you might avoid a place in my father’s harem.” He grabbed the chain attached to her collar and turned to walk off. “Well, get a move on. I don’t have all day.” He glanced over his shoulder and raised a brow.

She stared back at him with a sneer but did what she was told, falling into step a few feet behind him. He held his head high and thrust his shoulders back, hoping his father wouldn’t see the relief coursing through him. He’d done it. He’d saved her from his father.

There was just one big question hovering in his mind now. What was he to do with a slave?

~~~

That’s all for this Friday! If you enjoyed this, as mentioned before, there will be a novella dedicated to Dhiabhan’s story. I’ll be announcing more about that at a later date and will update everyone on when it starts going up on my writing profiles.

Until next Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend.

Flash Fiction Friday – Training Bane

Ariel Paiement

For this Flash Fiction Friday, I have a piece that focuses on Banach and Rith. This one shares the first training session he had with her in magic.

~~~

Banach closed her eyes and drew in a long, slow breath. She placed her palms in Rith’s large hands and crossed her legs. “I’m ready.”

“You remember what we discussed?”

She nodded.

“Repeat it back to me. I want you to run through the steps one more time.”

His baritone voice trickled through her, left heat behind everywhere it touched. She shivered and brought her mind back to the task at hand. Repeat the steps. She reached out to his mind. He’d want her to practice every aspect of her ability, so she might as well start now. She might be too tired for it later. You want me to reach out with my mind to touch yours.

Good. I see you got a head start. His thoughts eddied through her mind, left an impression of a smile as they moved on. The next step?

Then I should try to plant a suggestion. Try to encourage you to do something that you weren’t previously thinking about.

He chuckled. Yes. That’s good enough for today. Let’s try.

She ran her thumb in circles along the pulse point of his right arm. His long fingers clasped her wrists, tightened.

Focus, Bane.

Her cheeks heated. He should’ve known his touch would cause this. But he’d insisted that she needed to start learning by grounding herself to someone she knew and loved. That left only him. If she wanted to learn, she’d learn his way.

She frowned and focused on the sensation of her forehead wrinkling to distract herself from his fingers. Rith had never been pushy with her, but on this point, he refused to budge. If she wanted to train, she’d train with him on his terms. Still, what was there to complain about? She had him all to herself during these moments, something she didn’t get often. And he was supportive.

His fingers tensed against her wrists. Had she forgotten to bar him from her mind at the beginning of the exercise? Suddenly, she couldn’t remember if she had. Fine. If he wanted her to focus, she would. She’d focus on the one thing she couldn’t seem to get out of her head. A smile turned up the corners of her lips.

She reached inside to the ashtra. Would it like the idea too?

The ball of energy tinkled with laughter. Do I like it? Of course, child. He’s earned it.

The smile widened.

“You know, I can feel the smugness just radiating off you.” Rith chuckled. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Telling you that would ruin the point of the exercise.”

His thumb brushed over the pulse point of her wrist again. She shivered, and he laughed. “I think I can guess. You’re supposed to be concentrating on the exercise, though.”

Oh, she was. She took hold of the ashtra, shaping the energy into a single thought and easing it into Rith’s mind. It was similar to the way she spoke to him mind-to-mind, but at the same time, it was completely different.

He sucked in a shaky breath, and she smiled. It had settled in.

She opened her eyes just as he did the same. His normally warm gaze seemed to sear into her now, and she shivered. Maybe she’d gone overboard? He looked like he wanted more than a simple kiss, which was all she’d meant to suggest. His gaze raked over her, settled back on her face.

His lips curved up into a wicked smile. “You’re playing with fire today, aren’t you?”

Her lips parted, and she shook her head.

“I think you are.”

“I—” She cleared her throat. “Of course not.”

He leaned closer until their chests brushed. “Really?”

She lowered her gaze and watched him from beneath her lashes. No, not really. She’d clearly messed something up. He wasn’t supposed to tease her like this. He was supposed to kiss her. Just one chaste kiss. But based on the fire burning in his gaze, she’d get a lot more than that.

“You want me to kiss you?” He slid his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up.

She fought for breath, closed her eyes. “Did I say that?”

“Yes.” The terse answer rumbled through his chest and vibrated into hers.

“When?”

“The minute you planted that thought in my head.” His lips brushed hers. “Like I said, you’re playing with fire.”

She was. And she hoped it would consume her. Because at this point, the slow burn his touch ignited wasn’t enough. Heat sparked through her and blossomed in her cheeks.

“Nothing to say, Bane?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen?”

He chuckled, tugged her into his lap. His head dipped, and his lips pressed to her neck. “You expect me to believe that?”

She straddled him and pressed her hands to his chest. “Yes. You’re supposed to be training me, and I don’t know what I’m doing. Obviously, I’ll make mistakes.”

He hummed and moved his hands down to her hips. “I suppose. But when you make mistakes, it’s my job to show you the consequences. Here, in a controlled environment where you won’t be hurt if it goes wrong.”

Even now he retained control. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Right now, his control made her heart sink and her body burn. Definitely a bad thing if he didn’t plan on relieving the ache. Banach sighed.

Rith lifted his head and smiled. “Something wrong?”

Her cheeks warmed, and she stared at the bushes hedging the clearing’s edge. Would it kill him to quench the fire he’d started? Or had she started it? Probably. She’d been the one to plant the suggestion to kiss her, after all. But she hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Rith’s rough palm cupped her cheek. “I’ll give you what you meant to ask for. No more.”

The warmth in her cheeks traveled to her ears. She met his frank stare and bit her lower lip. “No more?”

“No more.” His gaze darkened. “Otherwise, I might not be able to control myself.”

She smiled and reached out to run her fingertips over his furrowed brow. “Somehow, I doubt that. You’re the most controlled person I know.”

He dipped his head and brushed his mouth over hers. “Maybe. But I’d rather not tempt fate. Let’s just say this training session was a mixed success.”

Was it though? A success, that was. It didn’t feel like it. His quick, chaste kiss wasn’t at all what she wanted. She lowered her head to his shoulder. True, it was what she’d initially wanted. But after the looks he’d given her, his kiss disappointed. It was all she was going to get, though. So, she’d take it.

Besides, she knew there would be other times when he would go further. When he’d give her what she wanted and more. In lots of ways, he already did. The disappointment faded. He’d give more when he felt it was appropriate, when he felt she was ready. Because whatever he did, he was always trying to ensure her safety and happiness. He loved her. That was enough for now. Maybe the training session had been a success after all.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! I’d love to know what you think! Feel free to leave a comment below if you have anything you’d like to say or if you have suggestions for more things you’d like to read on Flash Fiction Fridays.

Blog Tour – An Inside Look at My Writing Process

Ariel Paiement

A few people have asked either in interviews or privately about my writing process. They’ve wanted to know about how I handled planning and writing Bane of Ashkarith. Some people were surprised by what I shared, and I thought it might be interesting to give my readers a behind-the-scenes on what I do when I’m working on a book. So let’s get started!

Setup

I’m a bit of a neat freak and have strong OCD tendencies when it comes to getting ready to write. I can’t stand working in a messy space. Things have to be organized. I can’t write until they are. I’ll just stare at the screen and the mess around me without writing anything at all.

So my first step is usually to tidy up wherever I’m writing. I need to clear at least enough space to work. So if I’m sitting on my bed, I have to have the covers straightened out even if I’m huddling under them on a cold day. If I’m at my desk, things are more cramped and cluttered because I don’t have much space for things, but stuff still has to be ordered and neat. It’s even more important at the desk because there’s more to distract me.

The last thing I always do when I’m getting ready to write is pull up the spreadsheet where I keep track of the times I’m writing and how many words I got in a session. Yes, I do this. It helps me understand what my best writing hours are and, on average, how long a writing session should be to really start rolling out word count. Besides, it’s a nice feeling to be able to look back at what I’ve accomplished in a given week.

This was the log from a few weeks ago.

Writing Log

The empty slots, by the way, are days where I wasn’t able to do any writing on my current fiction projects.

Maybe now it won’t surprise everyone as much that I was an accounting major.

Planning

So, if the writing log and weird requirements for my writing space weren’t enough to tip everyone off, I’m big on organization and planning. My books are no different. I’m a plotter all the way.

I used to be a seat-of-the-pants type of writer. I just winged it with no plan at all and hoped it worked out well. (It never did.) The method just stressed me out because I never knew anything before I started, and it sucked up so much time to edit it that I quickly realized I enjoyed the process more if I planned first. It’s not for everyone, but it is absolutely for me.

If you haven’t tried plotting before, I would highly recommend you do. I’ll explain in a second what I did for Bane of Ashkarith and what I do now for every book I write, but let me say that plotting doesn’t have to suck all the joy out of everything. There’s room for breathing. You can plot just the bare bones if that’s all you need, or you can go all out.

But not plotting leads to a lot more revisions, rough drafts, and plot holes. So if you haven’t already done so, at least give it a try.

Anyway, for Bane of Ashkarith, I employed a method I hadn’t really used much before. Like I mentioned earlier, I’m big on plotting. But I’d never really bothered plotting past a general idea of the content for each chapter. I knew the big events, but none of the details were really solid in between the events. Writing took a lot longer because I had to think about all of that as I wrote.

With Bane of Ashkarith, I chose to plot out the basic highlights of each chapter and then, in the revision stage, I took it a step further and plotted out the individual scenes in each chapter. The result was that I wrote more words in the same amount of time because I didn’t have to hem and haw about what would happen.

I did all of this on pieces of line paper while in different classes when professors weren’t looking at what I was doing (don’t follow my example, by the way. Paying attention in class is usually a good idea.). As a result, I don’t have the scenes from Bane of Ashkarith. But I’ve done it with other novels, so I’ll share the ones I did for On Anarchy’s Wings, my current work-in-progress.

Scene Planning

I apologize for the low quality of the image. I wasn’t able to get a better picture because I wrote with pencil here. I did enhance it so the text would be darker though. The basics of each scene include: listing the viewpoint character, numbering the scenes, and listing down what happens in the scene.

This might sound like a ton of work. I guess it is a little bit overwhelming if you try to do a bunch at once. But I found that I could spend maybe ten or fifteen minutes sitting down before a writing session and jotting down the highlights of every scene in the chapter or two chapters I was going to write without a problem. It didn’t take that much time, and my writing was much more focused.

Writing

Now the part most people would say is the fun part. I think all the parts of writing are fun, but I recognize that I’m not the norm. Regardless, my writing process is pretty simple. I usually pick either an amount of time or a certain length in the novel to write. With Bane of Ashkarith, I usually opted for sitting down and writing until I had finished a chapter, however long that was. But if I’m limited on time or need to work on other projects too, I’ll pick a specific time frame to write, and I’ll work until that time is up.

I’m pretty easily distracted by my phone at the beginning of a writing period or when the scenes are a struggle to write for one reason or another, so I have to keep it away from me while I write so I don’t waste time on YouTube or Facebook. Yeah, I procrastinate just like most other authors I know. I’m normal that way, if nothing else. It’s not really a point I’m proud of since it involves wasting time, but it is what it is.

Editing

With the last part of the writing process, I usually write and re-write for a set time period. Otherwise, I have a tendency to lose track of time and just keep going so I can finish just one more chapter.

Editing is something that I really love. I know… It’s weird. But, nonetheless, I do love it. I can’t decide if I like writing or editing better. When it comes to my editing habits, I go through the work once looking for places where the characters’ voices need to come through more clearly for deep point of view and places where things just seem to drag. If it doesn’t interest me, it’s a safe bet it probably isn’t going to interest the readers. After all, I should be the one most invested in my own work. So if I’m not, why would anyone else be?

After I finish cutting and tightening, adding and re-writing, then cutting and tightening again, I move on to editing for consistency, grammar, and all those little parts of a novel that slip through the cracks sometimes on us when we’re writing. If I didn’t catch it before, my goal is to catch it at this point.

Once I’ve done all that, the last thing I check for is readability and flow. I just go through and make sure everything is said in the best way possible to get the point across. Preferably without being wordy.

Conclusion

This was a bit of a lengthy post, but I hope that it’s been interesting and, even more importantly, helpful to you guys. Writers are always learning, growing, and adapting. I’m no different, and my writing process now has definitely matured from where it was even a year ago. But I’ve found a method that works well for me, so I stick with it and just tweak it to improve the process where it might still be bumpy.

So what about you guys? Do you have anything you have to do before you’re able to focus on writing? What about your writing process? Anything you do that you think others might benefit from? If so, leave a comment and tell the rest of us about it! We’d love to hear about how other writers handle the writing process.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Lost Soul

Ariel Paiement

For today’s Flash Fiction Friday, the focus is on Rith. Featured as the dark god or god of shadows in the Alcardian novels, he’s seen facing off with his sister in Rith’s Disciple, a short story set before the events of Pathway of the Moon. In this piece, the event leading to his parents’ and fiancee’s deaths is revealed.

~~~

The smell of smoke blasted him in the face as he approached the long gravel drive leading to his ancestral home. Rith frowned. Was father burning brush again? He glanced up at the darkening sky. Too late in the day. His heart squeezed, and his stomach ached. Something wasn’t right.

He broke into a run, trying to Step in the shadows. They didn’t answer. He tried again, reaching out with his mind. But still the shadows remained out of reach, refusing his request to portal to the house. His head ached with the effort, and he stopped in his tracks, grasping for his magic once more.

Why wasn’t it responding? Had the drinks he’d had with Sedra and Albrith addled him that much? He tried to reach out to his sisters, but only cold silence greeted him. He couldn’t touch their minds like he normally could either. Could he touch anyone’s? He reached for Raewen and his father. Nothing.

It didn’t matter. He forced himself to keep sprinting down the drive, ignoring the burn in his lungs. The smell of smoke strengthened, and his throat ached as it filled his nose and lungs. The heat in the air grew the closer he came to home.

Then he rounded the corner and saw it.

The entire mansion blazed, the fire angrily licking at the wood and anything else consumable. It raged through everything, flickering and leaping from the windows.

Rith froze for a minute and stared. How? How had this happened?

Where were his parents? And what about Raewen? His heart lurched. Raewen! She’d been planning to visit so they could announce their engagement. He’d been out celebrating the news with his sisters upon their insistence, but she should’ve arrived shortly before he did.

He broke into a run, rationality fleeing. Their motorized coach sat in the driveway where it should be, and he cursed, pushing himself to go faster. The heat seared his skin, but he ignored it, listening for any sign that anyone had survived.

He couldn’t call anyone for help. If they were in there, he was their only chance.

A scream lifted faintly from somewhere at the back of the house. Raewen. Were his parents with her? Why hadn’t they been able to get out? He sprinted around the side of the mansion, searching for any entrance point that wasn’t consumed with flame. The only part of the house untouched so far was the section without windows or outside doors. They must’ve been unable to break past the fire and had been forced to hide in the laundry room. But it wouldn’t be long before the flames reached them.

There wasn’t time to wait for help to come.

He called to the shadows again. They flickered in response but didn’t let him through. Sinking to his knees, he released a guttural scream and wrenched at the magic with all his might. Something inside snapped, and pain seared down every nerve in his body. He stiffened, screaming out of pain now instead of frustration. It shouldn’t feel like this. Why did it hurt so badly?

The screams inside the house grew louder before choking off. He stretched trembling fingers toward the house, his vision blurring. If he could just endure the pain, he could make the magic respond. He could save them all.

The shadows swirled around him, caressing his burning skin and whispering in agitated murmurs. They didn’t like what he was doing. The pain flared higher, and he dug his fingers into the cool grass beneath him. He would not lose them. He couldn’t.

With an agonized groan, he reached out to the magic again and screamed at it with his mind. Let me through! The shadows screamed alongside him, and then the world went dark as they sucked him in.

He was spit back out in the laundry room. Tumbling to a stop, he took in the situation, every nerve in his body still alight. Was this what it would feel like to have the fire rage inside of him? He sucked in a breath, the smoke and heat searing into his lungs. His gaze flew around the room before landing on three still forms in the back of the room. He’d found them.

Stumbling to his feet, he hurried to them. Each step cut into him as if he was walking barefoot across glass. His fingers trembled at his side, and the magic inside of him bucked against his restraint. Why was it acting like this? Why? He hadn’t been out of control like this since he was five.

He’d almost reached them when it happened.

The magic slammed into his walls of restraint and crashed through. Like a river blowing through a dam, it raged through him. The shadows in the room writhed in response, and his head felt like it was being split open. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head between his hands. Tears slid down his cheeks and evaporated as soon as they fell. Make it stop. Anyone, please, make it stop.

His vision blurred again, and he curled up in a ball on the floor, his own screams distant in his ears. Somewhere, he heard a muffled explosion. The ground trembled, and chunks of plaster from the ceiling hit him in the side. He couldn’t stay here. They couldn’t stare here.

He forced himself to his hands and knees, crawling toward his parents and fiancee. Maybe if he could reach them, he could portal them all away from here.

The wall behind them was webbed with cracks. He frowned, blinking. Was he hallucinating now too?

A groan vibrated through the floor and the walls. More chunks of plaster rained down on his back. Then the wall exploded backward, as though ripped out by an invisible hand. Rith collapsed, unable to hold his own weight. What was happening? His dazed mind couldn’t process any of it anymore. He stared at the ruined, jagged edges of the wall. Stared at the void beyond. The gloaming of dusk and his mother’s flower garden were no longer visible. Only blackness greeted him, deeper than any shadow he’d Stepped through.

Was this the end then? He lifted a trembling hand, wondering if the void could act as a portal. It was his last hope. He pushed himself back onto his hands and knees. Inch by inch, he crawled toward his parents and Raewen.

His head throbbed, and each movement was sheer torture. The magic rioting inside of him didn’t ease up. The darkness in the room deepened, swallowing up the forms of his loved ones. His limbs gave out again, and he slammed face first into the stone floor. A sob clawed from his sore throat, and he lay there, staring at the darkness. Then it swallowed him too, and the pain ceased as he gave in, letting it carry him away from the anguish in his soul.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the piece. I’ll have a few more pieces on Flash Fiction Fridays showing more of Rith’s story if you liked this one. In the meantime, if you enjoyed this, you can learn more about his story in my novel Bane of Ashkarith, which releases at the end of July 2019.