Sword (Flash Fiction)

The young maiden gasped, amber eyes wide. Her lips trembled as she looked down at the sword sticking through her chest. Then she lifted her gaze to her attacker. It was none other than her lifelong friend. They had grown together, cried together, laughed together. Fell in love together. The person she trusted most. While it was true that Anne was considered nothing more than a handmaiden to the rest of the castle, Princess Marie called her sister.

The heir to the throne blinked as she felt her blood running down the front of her gown. “Why?”

Anne gritted her teeth, holding the sword in place. “You know why!”

Tears ran down Marie’s cheeks. “I-I don’t.” She gasped for air at this point.

Despite herself, tears welled up in the handmaiden’s eyes. Seeing her friend in such a pained state. But she persisted. “Yes, you do. You sent John to his death. We were going to be married.”

The princess’s eyes fluttered, and she struggled to remain balanced. “I always supported you and John. I don’t, I don’t have that kind of…authority.”

Anne’s expression twitched. It was true that the princess did not have the ability to carry out executions. “But…but–” She cut herself off, looking down at the cold stone floor. “They talked. They all said you wanted him dead. That you begged your father…”

Marie swallowed, though trickles of blood came out the corners of her mouth. “No, Anne.” She choked. “You, you have been blinded.” A short breath. “Fooled.”

The handmaiden’s mouth opened and closed. Yet, no words came. Her dark eyes searched her sister. “Marie…”

The royal heir struggled. “I thought…I thought you trusted me. I trusted you.” A final breath escaped her, and the last thing she saw was her lifelong friend weeping. Her eyes finally fluttered close. She didn’t know what had caused this confusion in Anne, but she knew one thing before her death. It was not the sword that cut her heart.



Taking of Medalia

Leven, the Outlands prince, waved a hand, forcing open Medalia’s throne room doors. Despite the heavy blockade. His silver armor glistened as much as his bright yellow eyes. A knowing smirk rested on his face.

The soldiers guarding their king trembled. They knew what the foreign prince was capable of unleashing. And his full powers had yet to be seen.

“Kill him!” King Talus cried from his throne.

Hesitating, they rushed forward.

Leven lifted a hand, and all their necks snapped at once. He stepped over their fallen bodies. Gaze trained on Talus. Holding out an arm, the peppered king’s sword came to him. “You’ve grown weak, old man.”

Talus stood with confidence. “The Medalia we know will die with me. You’ll do nothing but destroy it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m going to take it as my own, seeing how my parents banished me from the Outlands.”

“Their only lack in judgement was that they didn’t foresee you coming here.”

Leven’s grin never faded. He inspected the jeweled sword. “It’s a pity, really. How useless Medalia is now. Your generals have been slain, your son has been captured by my army, and I can waltz right in and take your throne.” He teleported behind Talus. “Your time is up.” In one swift move, he beheaded the king with his own sword. Stood splattered with blood. Looking very much like his mother with his pale skin and charcoal gray hair falling just past his shoulders.

A small gasp caught the Outlander’s attention. He whirled around. Someone was behind a pillar. He teleported to the source of the sound. Grabbed the servant girl by the neck and lifted her up.

Her thin frame quivered.

His head slightly tilted. “There is a power about you that I cannot read. How strange. But I can tell the old king favored you.”

She struggled under his grasp. Fear etched in her face.

“I won’t kill you. Not yet. You may prove interesting. But I am your new king.” He dropped her. “You will serve me, now. I will make you my personal slave. Tell me your name so I know how to call you.”

Throwing herself on the floor, she remained in the lowest form of submission. Her voice small. “T-Teckia, my…my lord.”

A Warrior’s Poem


If you mess with the rose
You’ll be pricked by thorns
If you mess with the bull
You’ll be struck by horns
If you mess with the sword
You’ll soon taste iron
If you mess with the dragon
You’re asking for fire

A warrior may not always win
But a warrior will never bend
I will fight even when cornered
I will fight until I look horrid
I will fight with passionate fury
I will fight with vision blurry
I will fight until my last breath
I will fight even after death

Do not put on my grave
How I won or saved the day
If I had words on my grave
This, I would want it to say:
I helped those I found in need
And the captives, I helped freed
I did what I felt to be right
I didn’t accomplish everything with might
For there are higher powers above
And the greatest of these is Love

Black Ice and Demise

Just because I wear mask doesn’t mean I’m hiding. Just because I look completely different from my usual self doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of who I really am. Just because I wear black doesn’t mean I’m mourning. And just because I was trained in the way of the ninja doesn’t mean I’m an assassin.
But everything I’m trying to prove right is wrong. I am trying to hide. I am ashamed of my real self. I am mourning. And I am an assassin.
I am Black Ice.
And true to my name, I can be hard to see. Occasionally, my invisibility is great enough, I can’t find myself. I’m left wandering through the world, trying to find my true self. All the while wondering if my new identity can be trusted.
Frankly, I don’t trust anyone. Especially myself. That is, until he showed up. He’s the one person I can feel myself trusting.
He found me one of the times I returned to Japan. He dropped in and fought off a mercenary I had been battling. I’ve let him follow me ever since.
He’s tall and well-muscled. With large, strong hands. He would need them with that heavy medieval sword he packs around. No shirt. Black pants and shoes. Hooded cloak covering his right side at all times. It’s blood red and ripped. I assume from countless battles. His face remains pitch black under the hood, and I assume he also wears a mask by the white eye covers.
He never speaks. Doesn’t motion. Never uses body language. I know not where he’s from. Don’t know why he chose to follow me. Don’t even know his name.
I wanted to name him Red Shadow, but he’s not ninja. His fighting style makes that clear. I call him Demise, for whoever he chooses to swing that double-edged sword on is sure to meet their death. And if he was to stay with me, he needed an assassin’s name.
But he’s not exactly an assassin. The only people I know he’s killed are those that had been hired to kill me. But he is Demise. As I am Black Ice. I’m an assassin with a silent guardian. So those that seek either of our lives may be warned. You will meet a cold death at the end of our blades.

Hunted or Haunted? View Two

I landed softly on my feet, thankful my light armor didn’t make a racket. Another victim lay shredded. Another victim without a soul. I lowered my head in respect. And in shame. For too long had this demon escaped me. An expert, it was, at changing shape and moving from one poor human to the next. It took literal form of their darkest fears. And I could only imagine how it appeared now. I closed my eyes to clear my mind. I was in charge of slaying this demon. And it had claimed another. Opening my eyes, I searched for the soul trail. The demon was getting better at hiding the remnants left behind. I locked onto the faint trail. My eyes burning with righteous fury. It feared me. Feared me as I hunted it. This was good. I was haunting the haunter. My white feathered wings carried me along the trail. I flew faster as the trail grew stronger. I drew my double-edged sword when I came to a black cave system. It wreaked of evil. Landing again, I tucked my wings behind me. Every step into darkness left a footprint of white light that permeated this vile darkness. My grip on my sword tightened ever more, sending a stream of purifying fire up the blade The screams of evil echoed to me. My wings locked into place. There were other screams. Not evil. It wrenched my heart. The lost souls cried for rescue. Today would be their salvation. I continued deeper through the cave’s throat. Darkness pressing harder against me. Then the shadows moved, and the demonic monster leaped from its cowering corner. For a moment, I could only stand in shock of it. This was what I hunted. This was what I haunted. The light on my sword flickered, sending shadows dancing on the gross mixture of bones, metal, and rotting flesh. It was the unholiest thing I ever laid eyes on. And I had seen my fair of monsters and demons. It pounced. I rolled off to the side, recovering in time to slide under the spiked tail. It screeched, whipping around and attacking with more speed and agility than I expected. Pinned me to the wall by my wing. My jaw clenched as I tried not to make an exclamation. Golden blood spattered to the ground. It sunk its serrated talons deeper. I finally gave a battle cry, sending a blast of light into its chest. It roared and released me, rancid flesh sizzling. Running at it, I dodged its head and front paws. Sliced the right paw off. I expected a regeneration, but it didn’t. The beast from Hell came after me still, shrieking and chittering. I went for the chest. Its tail knocked me sideways. Then swept again. This time, I severed half the appendage. It screamed at its stub. Came at me full speed. A solid hack cut off its other front leg. As it fell, I thrust my sword in its neck. Yelling for determination, I sent a stream of light up my blade once more as I held fast and sliced the demon monster in half. Also using a thin light barrier to keep the horrendous fluids from spilling on me. Then I went to its head; its eyes still illuminated. A clean stroke disconnected head and body. I suddenly dropped my wings and plunged the sword over my shoulder. Heard the sickening crunch of the humanoid minion’s skull behind me. Heaving it over my shoulder, I smacked the body against the ground. Ripped the head off. With the skull still on my sword, I sunk the blade into the twitching body. I studied the main creature. I expected a better fight from something so hellish. But something beautiful happened. All the captured souls floated out the body’s insides. They were weak. The thing had fed on them. Opening my wings, I gathered them into my aura. I gladly gave them my strength. I would recover later. Taking them outside was also a joy. They were free now. They could finally go home. Raising my sword, a beacon of light traveled to the heavens. The souls ascended. But the last one twinkled at me, pleading its thanks. It was the last victim of the monster, and it wanted to know what happened. Although weary from the energy I gave away, I managed a smile with my reply, “I sent that demon straight back to Hell.”