Flash: Different Horizons

Photo by Thomas Despeyroux on Unsplash

I woke to the ground shaking, well, the tree shaking. Per my standard operating procedure since transporting to this fucking fantasy shithole. Not sure if it is a planet, the ships masts don’t disappear over the horizon, at least they didn’t the one time I made it to a sea town which, let me tell you, freaked me the hell out.

Don’t know what this crazy place is gonna throw at me next, house brownies aiding the guesthouses and the requirements of their magical union twisted my stomach in knots after nearly two hours of explanation of what “everyone just knows, are you sure you never learned this, how slow are you?” from a well-meaning but angry by the end cutie-pie, so I returned to my sniper days and sleep in trees. Not as comfortable at fifty-two as at twenty-two, but liveable, in that I have survived so far. Those house brownies have a fucking shit-ton of teeth of the meat-eater variety. Survived for fourteen days and counting.

Word of advice. If a glowing blue circle appears, do NOT touch it just because anything has got to be better than a COVID hellscape.

The shaking was a dragon. An honest-to-god orange-skinned dragon, sparkling in the early morning sun. The meadow I bivouacked beside and above had deer during last night’s, and now this morning’s, twilight hours. Now, it has one less. The crunch of large bones made me want to press my back against the tree trunk.

Dragons are vision hunters. Like raptors in flight. Movement is their focus.

Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t blink.

…. And after eating the fucker likes to take a nap. Of course, it does. Yep. That is my luck now. I need my morning piss urgently.

(Words 292, first published 9/14/2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)

Flash: Punch a Nazi

Photo by BENCE BOROS on Unsplash

“They’re back.” Rick had his back to the door as he whispered low enough no one beyond the bar could hear thanks to the additional enchantments the owner had added after the incident last week.

Drawing a deep draft for a half-giant, I glanced toward the door where the new bouncing staff held up their hands trying to deescalate the situation. Four to one wasn’t good odds. “Tats,” I spat, darkening my skin further, drawing up my hair into elaborate braids. “Take care the Pix’s top, could you?” I jumped over the bar and slid down the other side. “I got some lessons to teach.”

“Sure thing. Should I let the boss know?”

“Not going to matter.” I didn’t have the patience to be polite and play by human rules. My long stride ate the distance between the bar and the door.

“Look man, your club ain’t allowed here anymore since you guys broke sanctuary last week.” The fae bouncer kept their hands visible. Even wearing their male aspect, the winter Seelie was over a foot shorter than the lead vampire.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, fairy?” The vampire crowded the bouncer toward the wall, confident the three jackets he came in with would guard his back.

I scented with my tongue. The groupie vampires had been turned in the past month, and the were of the group had at most three moons since being bit. The lead vampire pushed a decade but wasn’t the sire of the babes. Smith really needed to clean up his coven or I would clean it for him. With an egg to consider, all unnecessary dangers in my territory needed to be eradicated soon.

“They are going to let me take care of it.” I crossed my arms over the black cropped shirt the wait staff used as a uniform. I shifted my mobility from the human appearing glamour to normal flight, then I pulled some extra weight from the plane where I stored my excess. Just six percent should be enough; it wasn’t like my present body presentation could handle more than that, especially since I restored the shape to slimmer version for work.

The vampire didn’t even turn around at my words, foolishly thinking after a measly decade and a nip of the teeth he now qualified as an apex predator. Cockily, he held out a heavily tattooed arm with a finger up. “One fucking minute doll and I will get to you.”

“Nah.” I grabbed the finger and pulled it down, along with the muscular arm, then yanked him toward me. The vamp had been a weight lifter in life, and at over seven foot, he weighed a meager three hundred pounds. I had moved 1,500 pounds of extra mass from my main form.

He moved, I didn’t.

I dead-palmed the punch he threw as he turned, wrapping my fingers around it.

His eyes grew round, before narrowing at the negroid features I had started wearing since Massey agreed to be my egg carrier. He tried to yank his hand away from my grip, and I let him succeed. I watched as his bigoted brain downplayed my danger because of the color of my skin and the shape of my nose, and maybe even the size of my breasts. Supremists often came with a side of misogyny.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” He gripped and ungripped his hand, testing the mobility.

“Tell you want, let’s do a one-punch contest. You win, we serve you. Hell, I’ll even buy the first two rounds. I win, y’all leave and never come back.” I spread my arms. “I’ll even let you go first.” I smiled with teeth showing, maintaining full human appearance. The expression didn’t seem to faze the gang members, but the crazy grin made the bouncer take a step back. Fae understood crazy. I nodded to Seelie. “Just hold up the line for a couple minutes if you can, this won’t take long.”

“You got that right.” The lead vampire growled. “It won’t take long at all.”

“You agree? You tats leave and don’t come back, ever, if I win?” I carefully adjust my stance to make it look like I was bracing for a punch. Looking like you are walking while you are actually flying isn’t the easiest thing, but I had plenty of practice in a variety of forms and glamours.

“Yeah, sure.”

He blinked as the magic covenant slid into place.

“Sanctuary grounds. Don’t make contracts you don’t want enforced.” I smirked. The regulars quickly learned never to stiff a bill or skimp on a promised tip. Roderiguez didn’t run tabs. “Be sure to make the first punch count.”

“Oh, I will, bitch.” The huge undead took a step and swung hard. The power of his punch pushed him back a few steps, and he curled around his hand.

I was disappointed when I didn’t hear bones crunch. “You pulled your punch, that was stupid.” I moved to close the gap. “My turn.”

“Jump her.” The elder grunted at the younger vampires. But they weren’t his spawn, so they had the option to back off, which they took. I memorized their faces. Smart vampires made good neighbors, if they remembered to be smart and not try to be clever. Only the werewolf responded, transforming to full lycan shape and leaped at me. Either the lead vampire had were- control, a common enough ability, or the furry hungered for a pack and answered to an alpha orders. Hurting him would be like kicking a chained puppy. I backhand him gently into the babes. The two younglings grabbed him and hold him back.

To control the slap, I had turned toward the werewolf. The owner of Bar None frowned on killing customers, even unwanted ones.

The pack leader used what he thought was a distraction to jump at my back at vampire speed. At a mere decade, his speed was a joke. I easily spun, brought across just a minuscule portion of my talons into this form, and punched through his chest, holding his black heart hostage, before he understood what happened.

“That wasn’t part of the agreement. Ordering the fledging like that. It was to be you and I.” I stared up at him, letting a bit of my golden lizard pupils shine through my human appearance, and curled back my lips. “You broke Sanctuary.”

I squeezed my fist closed, then dropped the decaying corpse on the ground.

Wiping the blood turning into dust over my bare stomach, I turn to the remaining tats and jackets. “You were part of the agreement. You understand that right?”

The two vampires nodded their heads vigorously. The transformed wolf growled groggily, his broken jaw healing with audible snaps.

“Don’t come back. Let the rest of the gang know too.”

I dropped my chin to stare into the vampires’ black eyes, breaking the common-sense rule of never making eye contact with vampires. They were too young for it to matter. The werewolf tilted his neck, exposing his throat.

“You come in while I’m here, anyone with your colors, and I will remove you.” I kicked the shrinking dust pile to indicate how I would remove them. I taught lessons but only once. Supernaturals either had a learning curve or they didn’t. “Got it?”

They nodded.

“Go.”

The three children rushed out the door.

“Alphin, do a better job and sweep up this mess.”

“No problem. Sure thing.” The fae stumbled over their words. “On it.”

I turned around, forgetting for a moment to make it look like I wasn’t flying, the spin raised me an inch or so off the floor. Sighing, seeing about half the customers with their eyes wide staring at me, comparing the rumors of what they heard about last week against what they just witnessed, I shunted my talons and weight back to the other side and landed on the floor light enough not to crack the tiles. “What?” I asked the crowd, “Boss said no more tats. We are a Sanctuary. Anyone got a problem with that?”

People shook their heads and dropped their heads to their drinks.

“Remember to treat your waitresses with respect, because if you think I’m scary, you should see an annoyed witch.”

The wait staff chuckled at that one, all of them apprentices of the owner, a thousand-year-old wizard capable of maintaining a Sanctuary in a large metropolitan area, and one of the few being on the planet who remembered what it is like to hunt dragons. Some of the regulars joined in the laughter. By the time I made it across the club to slide across the silver-trimmed bar, conversations were restarting around the room.

(words 1,449; first published 1/19/2024)

Flash: Old Dragon

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[Old Dragon – flash story]

 

“So, grandpa, what was it like back in the days of dragons and knights?” The young man had superior air about him. Ancient and venerable, history and honor, these no longer had value to him. He wanted to bait me, belittle my accomplishments. He passed me a heavy stick; thick as his wrist. I needed both hands to steady the weight.

 

I admit my days of glory were not yesterday, or even the day before yesterday. I like the comfort of the community hall and earned my keep by keeping the fire burning, feeding it with twigs and sticks the young things brought as gifts for the next story. I fed his branch into the fire, the flare of heat pushed back the cold and arthritic pain.

 

“I first saw a dragon when I was eight, nearly nine. I was gathering wood, being the lowliest and youngest of Sir Egil’s squires. I erroneously thought of myself higher than I was and was complaining the whole time to Windflyer, the warhorse I was tasked with excising that day.”

 

I pressed a cup to my lips wetting them. Under my eyelashes, I watch the boy lean forward unconsciously. Two or three children, tiring of carding wool for the spinners, gathered at my feet. They made slight rustling noises as they settled. I waited patiently, but my hopeful tormentor, eager to prove his early manhood superiority, was as uncomfortable with silence as most his age, gave me power when he asked “So what happened?”

 

“The horse, the smallest, fastest, and steadiest of the three horses my knight kept in the lords’ stables, had been difficult to push into the hills that night. He had been so unlike his normal self, I tethered him as I gathered wood and loaded the sled. A good thing too, otherwise I would have had a long walk that night and things would have been very different around here.”

 

One of my miniature audience could not contain his excitement. “Because he would have run away.”

 

“Aye, Barry. Windflyer would have been safely home before I had taken three steps.”

 

The young man, Talar, leaned against a chair. He was new to our town, a tradesman establishing a laundry using machines we had never seen before.

 

“And I wouldn’t have blamed him…Because the night screamed.” I stabbed a finger towards my stick provider. “Have you heard a wildcat scream in your travels? The bloodcurling sound that travels up and down your spine, somewhere between a human scream and something…else?”

 

“Sure. Are you saying it sounded like that?”

 

“No.” I waited, staring at him until he shifted just a little. I watched his eyes search the room as he tried to process my flat response. He slipped into the chair fully. Just before his next question came, I filled in the silence “The sound is as different from a wildcat as a wildcat’s from a chicken cluck. A wildcat may sound unnatural, but a dragon IS unnatural. The scream tears your spine in half with shivers. Every part of my body insisted I had to run, run away, and no part of my body could move. My ears burned. My eyes watered. My breath stopped.”

 

“Then I saw it. A shimmer of night destroying trees with a leap. It climbed through the air, clawing and scratching. The heavy form pulled from ground to sky by sheer willpower for nothing that huge should fly. I felt empty air hit me like blows as it fled the horrific presence. A black shadow cut a hole in the starry sky, widening it and widening it. Absorbing all light in a path towards the lord’s castle. Blocking all sound but the beating and pounding of wings against helpless air.”

 

(Words 627; first published 1/24/2014; republished 1/6/2019)

Book Review: Greatshadow: Book One of the Dragon Apocalypse

Book Cover from Amazon

Greatshadow: Book One of the Dragon Apocalypse by James Maxey

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

A classic sword and sorcery dungeon crawl to hunt a dangerous dragon! 

After stealing a priceless relic from the Church of the Book, Infidel is the world’s most infamous mercenary. Now she’s got her eyes on a new prize, the fabled treasure trove of the dragon Greatshadow. Joining forces with a band of dangerous rogues, can she survive her own allies long enough to face the dragon? 

MY REVIEW

The world creation of the primal dragons is great. I love why they became what they are and look forward to future books of the Dragon Apocalypse. The three systems of magic ruling the world (blood, weaving and dreams) plus the multi-religious powers with each being right in their own way add another level of flavor to the story.

And then the uniqueness of the point-of-view character keep pulling me forward. It is not every day the POV dies in the first chapter. Truly an inspired twist that was never a gimmick. 

But the most important thing is the characters and storytelling. The characters are all flawed, likable (but not lovable), and not in any sense of the understanding “good” guys. The story drives relentlessly forward on a trip that leaves you gasping.

I have previously read James Maxey’s superhero stories, which, while inventive, I did not like. I decided to give Mr. Maxey a second try because he writes extremely well with twists never seen before. And I glad I have. He has made a unique fantasy world; not all unicorns and butterflies, but then the series title of The Dragon Apocalypse kind-of lets you know that up front.

Greatshadow is a solid beginning to an interesting series.

Flash: A Dragon and a Witch

Image courtesy of Phil_Bird at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Leathery wings silently glided the dragon over the Nether Gate. Twisting to the pond as he dipped below the fruit trees scattered throughout the garden, Indigo called to the Inner Fire and flashed bright for a moment, transforming into human shape to touch boot on the stone pier.

“Well, if isn’t His Hotness invading my home yet again.”

His dark eyes searched the shadows for the witch whose vitriol-laden sexy voice had sent shivers down his vulnerable flesh form. He found her plucking a plum from a tree. Striding forward onto the rich loam, he closed the distance between them.

Not moving, she bit down on his favorite fruit, and he watched her cheeks hollow, sucking the juices out before she asked, “What did I tell you the last time?”

“That if I ever showed up here again, you weren’t going to kick me out.” The sometimes-man smirked down at the small, but curvy witch. “I fail to see the threat.” He grabbed the hand holding the plum and pulled it up to his mouth to take a bite where she had already broken the skin, Vera fighting him all the way but failing. Despite her inhuman strength capable of maintaining the magical garden, his arms could carry a dragon’s weight into the air. There was no real contest even though she pretended there was.

“I assume you carried this message to your queen as well.” She huffed, standing on tiptoes, waiting to regain her limb.

Taking a second to admire the juices flowing down the slim white arm from the half-eaten fruit, he eventually answered, “In all the glorious detail you provided. That you no longer owed fealty to the Air. The treaty had played out it four score and once more and anything coming from your garden will be paid for, not taxes and tribute collected.” He licked the juices which had reached the hollow of her elbow as she continued to struggle ineffectively against his greater might. He watched out of the corner of his eye her reactions while he followed the sticky line back up her arms, giving special attention around her wrist before prying the fruit from her fingers and releasing her arm.

During the entire time her eyes widened and darkened. She hadn’t stepped back, but instead licked her lips and her breathing deepened. The witch could have spoken a spell to throw him from the shade of the tree and into the water, but she hadn’t risked the start of a war, or maybe there was another reason. They had been playmates while she had resided as hostage-supplicant in High Aerie until her parent’s death and her inheriting their land.

“I also carried your warning that anything entering your lands is to be considered yours from now on to do with as you see fit.” One quick bite finished the fruit, and he threw the pit aside. “The queen does not care.”

After shaking out her arm, Vera brought the fingers to her mouth to suck the last of the stickiness from them. Pulling two moisten fingers from her mouth, the brunette looked up through her bangs and asked, “Is that Regina’s only answer?” She popped her thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around as her cheeks hollowed again, sucking firmly.

Indigo felt his eyes go completely purple as he watched her. Two sides of a cold, cold war kept them apart during their adolescent years while she became a ruler and he a trusted solider. The childhood friendship had changed into something else entirely the next time them met. Something that could never be pursued without total surrender on one of their parts, her part. Something the queen expected him to acquire before the next full moon – the surrender, not the results that both of them really wanted – to Void with the queen’s expectations. A short laugh twisted from his gut. “No. She expects the normal tribute to be brought by your farmhands in six days. And your presence to sign a new treaty.”

Satisfied all the stickiness had been removed, the witch wiped her hand on her apron, then pushed her long braids back bringing his attention to her long neck. He did like graceful necks in both his forms.

“Or?”

“I have been instructed to burn field after field until you capitulate.” Indigo’s broad shoulder’s shrugged, his face stoic.

Vera gasped, laying a hand upon her generous bosom. A feature he only appreciated in human form. “Oh, no!”

Indigo’s eyes narrowed. That wasn’t fear but extreme overacting.

“You do know,” her voice continued with the excessive hyperbolized tones she would use back when they were planning something their caretakers would rue later, “that as an Earth Witch bound to my lands, burning them will send me into agony.”

“Which is why your grandparents surrendered the first time.” He cocked his head to the side, moving to lean under the fruit tree and crossing his arms. Flower petals drifted down from the ever-fruiting tree bearing heavy branches of pink flowers, green young fruit, and full purple plums. “Why are you even trying?”

“Because I rule here.” Her heart-shaped face firmed into marble, her tone cutting as sharp flint. “I owe those tied to these gardens and fields to try.” A small smile slipped in like gold flecks in a High Aerie mining vein. “Plus it affects all those in my family.”

He shook his head at her obstinateness. “You have no family left. You are the last of your line.”

“Except for my husband.”

A cold hollow formed within his Inner Fire. It roared back to fill the void and leaped higher, a hint escaping as smoke from his nostrils. He found himself suddenly learning towards her, his fists either side of his body. “What husband?” he growled.

“Fruit bit and shared, from lip to lip and hand to hand. Thus it is done. Thus is it done. It is done thus.” She stood on tiptoes and quickly pressed her lips against his where he leaned forward.

His world exploded, and he fell like a stone as the world, a land, rushed in to welcome him, bind him, ground him.

(Words 1030 – first published 8/19/2018)