Stairway to Heaven

Hey Fictioneers!  I’m still alive!  Something a little different this time…

Genre: Almost Non-Fiction (notice the sad lack of “fantasy”)

I looked toward the ladder near the bookshelf in consternation.  Slowly, I turned to gape at my mom who has taught me most of what I know of faith.  I then turned to my Dad, who opened my eyes to a world I never could have seen without his help.  Such a dilemma this was!  Fraught, caught in indecision and beseeching the great Lord above.  Slowly, my little toes crinkled and my muscles reacted.  Before my frightened mind could comprehend what was happening, I stood staring up at the ladder. “Could the stairway to heaven possibly end this way?”.

The Steed and the Serpent….(Friday Fictioneers!!!)

Yep.  I’m back.  I should have warned you like Arnold in Terminator.  I did not, and for that I am horrendously sorry.  Actually, no I’m not, but that’s not the point.  I’m back!!  Boom.  Let’s do this.  Consider me….rusty.

 

Genre: Seriously? By now I’d think you’d know its Fantasy.

The serpent sneered.  He was too devious for this Stone Steed.  How he ended up in the brute’s mouth still befuddled.  His lightning-fast tongue gave ample warning, the ground rumbling with the granite gallop, yet here he was.  He tested his range of motion, sliding his body to the left.  Motion.  Good…  Just a little bit of scaly tail around a hoof, and he could end this.  The horse twisted its head.  Never mind.  He was debating using the strength of his water-glands when he felt a sharp increase in the pressure.  Water sprayed and he smiled wistfully.  So this is……..

The Steel Bird (Friday Fictioneers!)

Ready Fictioneers?  It’s Friday….charge!!

Genre: Duh.

 

The steel birds rose in confidence to claim open skies.  Pilots lived within, touting their flight as unparalleled.  Oh, how I proved them wrong.  Oh, how I longed to all these ages!  With my strength alone and my will, they fly no more.  The humans cower and tremble beneath my sunset gaze.  And so they should, these miniscule beasts that rise from the earth, breed and fall back to ash!  I am Guardian of this planet; now I return to set the balance.  You who once looked upon me in the night, behold my true glory.  I am Draco, Heaven-Lord!

Wraith

I apologize for the darkness of this entry.  This is my only disclaimer.  Sometimes my writing becomes my emotion, and this is one of those times.  That being said, thank you Rochelle for the outlet, and thank you Fictioneers for allowing me to delve into a different place.

 

Genre: Dark Literature

I have been poked and prodded too many times.  Too many times the hammer of life has set its will against mine.  Too many times has it won.  Like a weathered mountain or table of clay, I can only be so alone, I can only take so many beatings before I crack.  My heart, on blackened ink, is long forgotten.  My heart’s desire no longer remembers me for who I am, she questions my truth and my faith.  I am a fading cloud or a whispered memory.  I am the dusk before the darkness.  A wraith I become, I am.

The Lady of Fae

Ok.  So a lovely lady (pictured below), found out about my blog and just so happened to read the entire thing.  She has since requested that I do a one-hundred word challenge with a self provided photo.

Here goes nothing:

 

She was the Lady of Fae, midnight-haired keeper of her people.  She tucked, whirled, tumbled and twirled.  Intricate as the shadows, her feet touched and spun the weaves of her tempestuous magic.  Around she danced, feet flaring with every touch to stone.  The wind licked at her heels, spinning even as she completed each circuit around the borders of her homeland.  Flame sealed the defenses with a radiant kiss.  The air thundered at her final touch; as she lay on the steps of her home, lightning cracked the skies.  She smiled up, knowing that someone, somewhere, had seen her image.

After the Battle – (Friday Fictioneers!!)

Ah, and there you were…thinking you had done away with me.  Lay thy fears to rest, tis only a brief reprieve and rest that I took.

Let us continue on Fictioneers, in mad and reckless fashion!  Thank you to Rochelle for hosting yet another week of shorty abandon.  100 words, based on a photo.  Ready, set, go!

Fantasy be the name of the game:

Wood, posts, and dirt.  Fire, smoke, and ash.  These things lay heavily on the minds of the warriors as they trudged in melancholy toward the last shores.  The night’s scourge had taken many lives both noble and not.  They stared at one another, each beaten and blackened in his or her own way, with a new sense of hope and purpose.  For yet again, the suns rose brilliantly and worked their mysterious flaming magics on wounds both physical and internal.  These sands, these free sands; they stood as testament to the hearts of all.  Here would be their last stand.

And So They Rested. (Friday Fictioneers!!)

This week came out a little different, though I didn’t expect a different genre 🙂  Friday Fictioneers it is time once again to delve into my brain!

Genre:  Fantasy

And so they rested, last instruments of power,

In a feeble cabinet locked, beneath the vaults of Master’s tower.

A song they sang upon a sunrise long ago,

Beauty and light once rang upon the bow.

Master abandoned them to a deepest darkest night,

Let their power fade into abyssal twilight.

Alas!  Their day has finally come,

That a hero should rise to make the bodies hum.

Banished will be the blackness that lingers,

Unless greed and anger does come upon his fingers.

‘Ware thee then, oh simple man,

It may be you the power shall command.

They once were… (Friday Fictioneers!)

Here we are!  Another week gone but another chance to write to a photo!  This one came to me almost immediately…I love it, lets do this Fictioneers!!

Genre: Fantasy

In the days of old, they had power.  Immense, stone-crushing, mind-shredding power they wielded.  Now they stand under their glowing multi-colored spectacles, hands raised high and faces radiant with lofty pride.  The explosions reverberate across the lands.  I can feel it in my chest, and for a moment my ears ring.  But this isn’t power, not really.  It is vanity.

I remember thunder and bolts of electricity so thick they sheared mountains.  What do these modern “wizards” call these…fireworks?  They will know fire, and in my conflagration of power, they will remember too late what they once were…

Shadows and Accusation (Friday Fictioneers)

Well Christmas is pretty much over for me.  It was a great weekend but now I have to get back to it!  So without further ado here is this week’s Friday Fictioneers entry…Hosted by none other than Rochelle Wisoff-Fields…Look at the picture, write 100 words.  Easy right?  Nope.  But hey, its fun so see below would you already?

The creature stood before her in the dim light, eyes glowing with accusation.  Candles having long since sputtered out,  she let her natural dark-sight take over as she glared back with obvious annoyance.  Hours and days and days and hours she spent fitting all the images together.  Would they believe her?  How could she convince the Wise Ones on the elder council to hear warnings she had yet to scribe?  The nearly blank page beneath the striped shadow accused her in its ruined purity.  The start so far would not be enough. “Esteemed Elders, we stand to soon be threatened…”

A Vision…(Friday Fictioneers)

Well since I’ll be out of town for a Christmas gathering I figured I’d get a jump (at exactly 100 words!) on this Friday Fictioneer week!  See below…

The woman with the flowing, pitch black hair and determined, yet delicate elven features gasped at the vision in her mind.  She saw chains and a stake, a shaping of worlds eternally bound behind shackles of iron fencing.   Our world?  She wondered silently.  Flashes of bright orange–fire?– and sharp objects seized her heart.

The elder council must be warned, for if she was right, they would soon be fighting to avoid that which they fear most.  The bitter rusting decay of mortality.  The council could not, nay, would not… allow their race to fall, to become as a man.