Writing Prompt

His sword came down

And I saw the fate of my people in his blade

They were bruised and scared

And they laid in rubble

No matter how much we joke

There is no glue to mend this massive gaping hole

Because our country is falling apart

And we can’t deny it

When people hate us

And make it known with ai

When people shame us

for loving who we like

When people in power

Spend the money

we worked tireles...

My sweet daughter died that day, as did my late husband or at least I thought. On horseback, riding to the pub I’d frequented, I recognized nothing but his eyes. He dismounted the beast of his horse. My late husband wasn’t surrounded by his typical crowd of armed monsters. The answer seemed simple to me....

No one could quite believe the charges.

A traitorous king by virtue just didn’t make sense…

But there he was. Kneeling on the dais. In the shadow of his throne.

My younger brother fidgets, hair tossed and his pajamas crickled from a restless sleep. Although we were only a year apart, it often felt he could be much younger. “We have to stop this.”

I daren’t show emotion as I give a soft shak...

His sword came down, and I saw the faces of my people in his blade. Their hopes, their dreams, their determination. All cleaved from existence with the fall of the executioner's blade. With that final blow, reality came crashing back into focus.

The earth shuddered beneath the thundering of hooves and the mass of armoured bodies colliding, rendering more flesh to the crow's buffet. The stench of...

His sword came down, and I could see the faces of my people in his blade. The frozen shriek of Kit Darmondy, the town baker. The shamed look of Frank Alegenon, the banker from down the street. The looks of pale horror from the Udesky twins. The sharp blade that was once clean-cut through Viktor Cross’s throat in one swift and effortless movement. Harold, the executioner, had that effect with a b...

Death stands before me. Flames dance within his black eyes. The room is cold. Air escapes my lungs as the machine bellows another beep. I can't move. I am stuck in this bed, tied down by my body's own failures. Cancer they call it. But Death is all I see. His talons caress my pale cheeks as he waits patiently. It is only a matter of time.

I should have been dead long ago. Back when Death took my ...

I, Gallin, wood mouse Arcanist, master of magics and wielder of truth, sent breath through my limbs. My fingers shone and hummed as I moved them through my stance. I felt the familiar quickening energy revive my increasingly tired body as I took in a full breath. Ribbons of light danced around me as I finished my cantrip. They flew along the knicker and bloody swords of my kinsmen, along their cre...

His sword came down, and I saw the faces of my people in his blade. Time seems to slow down as I stare into the reflection of the silver metal. I meet the gazes of the people who once saw me as their beloved leader, I see the eyes of those who wish for me to move on. I watch the heads of the ones who do not wish to watch me leave.

I was once the adored ruler of this kingdom, I was loved...

Striva the Fierce was the old forger- the apocryphal progenitor of our village. They say that the day she disappeared she was 104 years old and fiery as the day she had arrived in this village. She was 28, barely a child, when she showed up at the decrepit blacksmith’s forge. She stalked in, from goodness knows where, and set herself in front of that broken down stone furnace, clapped her already ...

His sword came down,

And I saw the faces of my people in his blade.

In the reflection there is a frown,

Like playing without the ace of spades.

To cities and towns violence he brings,

With fire in eyes and frozen heart.

Once he was a savior among kings,

Lost now his mind’s sour and tart...