Posts Tagged ‘fantasy’


Once there was a yak-herder, who lived in a small hut the loneliest part of the steppe, where there was nothing but wild grass and cold wind for company.

One day, there came out of the mist a princess, riding on a grey-flanked pony, robed in fur and silk, whose eyes were like black moons and whose smile was like the dawn.

“I have no lodgings, no gifts, for one such as you,” he said, but she stayed with him through the night, laughing by the fire and drinking yak’s milk amongst the stench and the cold.

This for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Jacco Rienks for providing the prompt photo!



“From beneath the giant’s gaze,” the girl boasted, “I stole his cattle. From the king’s halls, I stole his drinking horn. There is nothing I cannot bring it to you.”

“The Sun,” her love replied. “Bring me the Sun.”

And so the girl crossed the circling ocean and climbed the high peaks until at last she came to the rivers of night. In those dark waters she swam, fending off shades and elder things that the gods had cast there, till at last she came to the secret harbour where the Sun rested during the night.

She put the Sun in her bag that could hold anything and then stole forth, back across the mountains.

All the world was silent as she returned to her love’s hall. No birds sung, no horns sounded. The sky was dark and there were no stars.

Within, her love lay in endless, dreamless sleep.

Word Count: 150

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


Adisa was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her eyes were as dark oceans, her skin as polished jet. For her, princes went down on their knees in worship, yet she turned them all away.

One was not to be refused. He was Azutan, sorcerer of the west, who held ten demons in rings. Azutan forced her to wed him, though she wept all through the ceremony.

Life in Azutan’s palace was bitter, though all the halls were full of diamonds and each meal was as a king’s feast day. One day, she saw out the window the laborer Obi, his bare back lashed red, and fell in love, swift as a bird struck with an arrow.

In secret the lovers met under moon and stars. Yet one night Azutan followed her and saw them embrace.

“A curse upon you, Obi,” he snarled, and twisted one of his rings. “You shall stand forever before her window, always seen and never had.”

Obi’s flesh turned to cold grey, spreading from his fingertips to his wide eyes.

“No,” Adisa vowed. “You shall not part my love from me.”

She pressed her lips to his and froze there, never to move again.

Word Count: 200

This is for Sunday Photo Fiction. Photo credit to Eric Witlund.


She sat on the roof of the old house, looking up at the constellations that danced in the dark blue sky over the crest of the hills. The baying of hounds came ever closer, accompanied by the glow of torches and the roar of the mob.

“Forgive them,” she whispered to the stars and closed her eyes as the flames began to climb.

This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Thomas Shellberg for providing the prompt photo!


Night after night, day after day, the old soldier rode across the hills on his grey warhorse. White scars scattered across his lined brown face and his mail was full of holes and broken rings.

Villagers and travelers asked him why he rode and if he would not stay a night, rest a moment.

He would not, he always answered, for he sought the demon Teridaxo, the rider in black, who did not tarry for even a moment. In the heart of war, he had first seen the demon, a laughing face in the smoke, but the soldier’s blade could not pierce his side. Ever Teridaxo danced across moonlit nights, a flicker of movement in the dark.

And so he rode on, always chasing, always just behind. Teridaxo moved even as he did, slipping through his fingers and between the branches of dead, grey trees amidst villages of tumbled, ash-black stones.

Then the hills ended. The land gave way to sharp white cliffs and the expanse of foam-crested sea.

There Teridaxo could run no more. The old soldier looked to his side and there, upon his horse of darkness, was the rider in black.

There was his shadow.

Word Count: 198

This is for Sunday Photo Fiction. Thanks to C E Ayr for the prompt photo!


“Did you see this, wizard?” Nimue asks. Her voice is the wind, whistling through the breaks in the twisted tree roots.

He remembers how first saw her, her hair falling in tangled midnight waterfalls, her eyes oceans of endless blue. A nobody from nowhere, coming to him on bended knee.

He remembers her laughter, her song, her magic – for they were all one and the same, all beautiful, all her. All his secrets he taught her, unravelling the Mysteries like string, pulling them apart and letting her see the truth of things.

“Did I see this?”

Merlin laughs. The tree presses in on all sides, cutting into his skin. He will not escape.

“From the first moment I saw you,” he said.

“Then why? Why did you let it end here?”

His voice is worn, cracked, and all too mortal.

“Because, you foolish girl, I loved you.”

Word Count: 147

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


Castle walls cast long shadows. Stones seeped in history stretched in long battlements upon the coast. You could almost see the soldiers watching over the channel for white sails over dark seas.

Sometimes the locals swore it was more than almost.

A baker saw a gaunt face in her misted window. He pressed his finger to his lips and was gone.

A party of five laughing men walked into the pub. They took a table and ordered drinks, telling stories over pints of ale. When the young bartender asked them to pay the tab, they gave her coins marked with strange faces. The coins vanished in the morning, leaving only grains of strange white sand.

There was a legend they told, of another castle, built in the same place to watch the same waters, but in another world, a world of mist and shadows. Sometimes soldiers from one castle passed over to the other, recruited to keep the watch, lured by the promise of faerie gold.

And if you looked at the walls when twilight fell, when the mists hung low and golden light danced on the waters… Maybe you could see that castle, just for a moment.

Word Count: 198

This is for Sunday Photo Fiction. Photo credit to A Mixed Bag.