The Last Cowboy

At the end of the rainbow, she’d find the chosen one, the hero who would save their world from the Blighted. The Oracles had been very clear.

Felicity Banister, daughter of the Long Desert, had set out across the clouded lands, following the rainbow’s path, hoping against hope for a great warrior to slay her foes.

She hadn’t expected a ratty ancient trailer of the Before-Folk, dating back to the time before the All-Fires, its door barred with a plank of wood. The paint was peeling and the metal was rusted orange.

Still, Felicity had come this far. She knocked.

The door opened and sent her flying back.

Standing there was a woman: short, her nose burnt, her clothing ragged. She wore half her hair in dreadlocks under a wide-brimmed hat. On her chest was a rusted star.

“I suppose,” the Last Cowboy said, “you’re here about saving the world.”

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Word Count: 150

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and @any1mark66 for providing the prompt photo!