From above and below, bare branches reached for Piran as he raced through the forest, creaking with the wind. A lingering leaf caressed his cheek as it drifted into grey mist. Shadows swirled around him, as though they were dancing a secret dance.

In his hand, he held the hilt of the blade: twisted silver and bronze that had turned green with age. He had found in the mounds, buried amongst bones and dirt, and taken it for his own: a hero’s blade, to fend off the creatures that had infested the wood.

The mud ahead of him shifted and a withered black shape arose, long limbs unfolding with the creak of decaying wood, eyeless sockets like burnt pits staring. It was a wood-troll, wrought of rotten log and murky mud, and it blocked the only path.

Piran charged, blade in his hand and a prayer on his lips.

Word Count: 149

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Yarnspinner for providing the photo prompt!

  1. michael1148humphris says:

    I enjoyed this – it reminded me of Tolkien.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This left me wanting so much more!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Great story, J.A.! It is almost as if finding the blade helped him to find the courage to fight and defeat the wood-troll! Loved it!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Martin Cororan says:

    Gothic goodness!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Chris C. says:

    Let’s hope the blade serves him well and true against the creature! The piece seemed very gloomy, which went with both the story and the photo very well.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Loved this action and imagery.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. James says:

    “blade in his hand and a prayer on his lips.” I like it.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. A rousing adventure tale if ever there was one. Enjoyed it.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. swritings says:

    Really pulled me in! Great take! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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