“What can I say? He likes to play with words.” I brushed my hand over the harsh metal of the table, not raising my gaze to meet the inspectors. There was no good in doing that.
Magiker’s Waves
Water wrapped around Riz, flowing and sending him tumbling. His arms failed until one hand broke the surface. A hand which swiftly dropped again to strike the sea with the glove he still wore.
To Arms
Riz stared at the gloves. That the casters had trapped magician them he didn’t doubt. Casters too precious to leave the shores instead sent those they had trained with artifacts bearing their powers. The sent the Magikers.
Uncollected Gloves
The gloves lay draped over the quarter deck’s rail. Work gloves, though none the crew would use. Riz didn’t know why his mind focused on them. Better than the cries of rage or pain, or the smoke.
Dandelion Fluff
Moonglow lit the courtyard. Tarinne lifted her gaze as heavy bootfalls echoed off the stone walls. Pavel, back again. Back as he had returned every night for seasons. Back to ask the same question again.
Aftermath
Hadwyn watched the pair enter the keep. “It’s been a week. Can we pretend it’s just beginning?” Fianna flopped onto her seat and slid down until she barely remained on the thing.
Master of the Art
Nothing stood out about the residence to Tobias Rowntree. Bright bay windows sheltered beneath the steep roof, offering an excellent view of the street. Perfectly normal for Adenaros’ wealthier district.
But not.
Halfway
Lonnie Downs watched Aries station sync with Vega. Tugging his dress shirt’s collar, he recalled when Aries and Vega stations had last synched.
A Spirit’s Due
Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction. As if the myriad of fingers pointed my direction weren’t enough accusation, Tobias ensured it remained abundantly clear I had ordered the ghosts by blurting out as much. I crossed my arms and glowered at Tobias. Would that my displeasure could…
Out to Hunt
“People die hunting that gemstone.” The drawer closed with the same amount of finality as Halline shoved it closed in exasperation at her aunt’s warning. Rounding, she pressed the armload of tunics and trousers to her chest. A poor shield, but the best she had.