Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.
Adralith groaned glancing at the mist covering the normally clear mirror. Someone demanded his presence. He glanced at his tart. It was perfect. Freshly baked, vibrantly red, fragrant, and the crust. Venna had outdone herself, and he’d missed the season the last three year’s.
“I’ll deal with you later,” he told the treat setting the fork beside the plate and moving from the table. “In minutes. Just a few minutes.” He pressed his hand against the disc on the mirror’s right side. “Yes?” he snapped sharply before the image had time to clear.
Irandi glowered, silver sparking in her blue eyes. A perfect plate fallen over one shoulder and her adapt robes. No, not her. Not again.
Adralith gulped dropping into a quick bow. “Wise one,” he said burring his irritation, “how may I serve you today.”
“You’re to travel to Ybendam and settle the dispute erupting with the low landers. A three month trip.” Three months. The season would end in that time. Again.
“I’ll leave at daw–”
“Now.”
“Now?” He glanced over his shoulder at the tart.
She raised her chin. “Now.”
“The low landers are outside my circuit. Isn’t Brurin–”
“Dealing with the Wicemond.”
“What of Mirutha.”
“In Ibalelia until spring.”
Adralith swallowed a third name. He bowed. “I will obey.”
“You are under ascertainment now” Irandi smirked fading from the mirror.
Sighing, Adralith glanced at his tart. No, he couldn’t pause. He never should have called the woman’s cat ugly. Maybe next year.
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