Flash Fiction Story (15 B)

Dottie over at Tink's Place have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate you post your story on Friday - 350 words, give or take.

I have to thank Blodeuedd at Book Girl of Mur-y-Castell for introducing me to this fun meme. I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with every week, but I'll give it a try from time to time.

As I could not decide which story to continue with this week and asking for help from the few readers who play along with me here left me still in a tie, I did two this week.  Do you you enjoy.

The Image This Week:

Continuation of John, Sinn, and Sheen:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

John, Sinn, and Sheen walked mutely through the bright night on the naked land, watching as the nightmarish creatures once known as the loving and teasing faery folk swooped around the trio never touching them. More trying to see them and maybe attracted to Sinn‘s feel of nature, or John guessed.

They slowed with the burning sun of day beating on them. Glancing to Sinn, John could see the icy mask she held in place on her face. She was concentrating. But on what? Keeping the vampire faery folk away or finding the woman they are looking for?

Walking on the dark faery folk fell away and left behind as they push further on the dank land. The faeries seemed to be attracted to that portion of the bare land, maybe because it’s close to the haze of the Neither where they pull energy from. John reaches to touch Sinn’s should and stops as she jumps away. The fear is evident in her eyes for a split second and she pulls the wintry cold mask in place to steel her beautiful facial features again, hissing like the icy breeze through sleeping trees, “Do not.”

John shakes his head. Her color was falling and draining from her face just like a brisk autumns day losing its leaves of color in a peaceful breeze before the storm, “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Sheen roughly interrupts, “What are you two whispering about now?”

“I was just saying we should take a short break,” John responds turning to face Sheen now. “We’ve been traveling by foot for night and half a day. Sinn needs rest.”

Sheen glares at John, “No. Sinn needs out of this hell hole. Her energy doesn’t mix well with the lack of life here.”

“Fine. We rest for a few and on we go.” John now annoyed that he left these two even attempt to make this trip with him. He knew better. And he knew them. Plopping down on the ground, as a puff of dust flew away from him, not knowing what to do. It appeared Sinn’s vision of all that time ago, the one that drove him away, could be coming true. He really was going to be the death of her. Huffing to himself he laid back thinking. It’s her own damned fault. She gave me no choice. She choose to come. John tried to relax as he stretched the muscles in his legs and back. Wondering on how much further they needed to go.

John must have dozed off as the next think he knew Sheen was shaking his shoulders mumbling something about time to move. They trekked for the rest of the day. Then to John’s surprise there was darkness ahead of them.

Sinn sighed a sound of relief, sounding like a warm spring breeze through your hair. Turning to Sinn and seeing a speckle of light green on her wooden crown he pressed his eyebrows together, questioningly. Before he could ask she answered with a refreshing cool streams ripple to her voice, “The day has ended and we are coming to the forest where normal darkness and night reside again. I can breath easier now.”

John taking charge again said with assertion, “When we make the forest line, we will camp to recoup some energy.”

As John had said, they did.

None could sleep long in this strange land, a few hours of rest seemed to work small wonders for the state they where in. There was a twinge of peaches and pinks starting to come back to Sinn’s palette of skin, but she still looked drawn.

John jumped to his feet spinning around. Sheen did the same, feeling the sense of a threatening presence near. John and Sheen had the glow and tingling at the end of their fingers, growing, waiting for the moment to use it. Sinn sat with her legs crossed at the ankles and knees closed her eyes to feel around her.

The two men rushed through the brush into their camp. John and Sheen released the spells they had firing up in their hands. Sheen’s blast hit the scarred troll looking man straight in the chest, leaving a black singed hole in his chest. But the broad man John throw at ducked and his aim wide hitting the side of a large tree behind his opponent. John cursed under his breath knowing damn well he was out of practice for a battle like this. The man charged at him, then the blur of the glowing fire turned dark as the wind was knocked from his longs as he hit the hard rocky ground now with this large man on top of him.

Blinking tears from his eyes he looked up to see the broad bald man standing and placing his staff to Johns throat. John turned his eyes searching the camp for Sinn. As he found Sinn he saw an arrow stream from the trees toward her. He yelled her name, “Siiiiinnnn!”

Then the arrow took a sharp turn to the ground and planted the sharp shinny tip deep. Little limbs with leaves grew from the wooden shaft of the arrow. And as John blinked, saw he saw red rose buds growing from the limbs. Then Sinn fell to her side, laying motionless.

Sheen took off into the forest and John was left with his strong enemy pinning him down with a magical staff. John knew he was screwed. This woman they were after wasn’t as blind as they had hoped she was, but then how would she have gotten this far if she was. She must’ve had insight into them coming.

John had one last thing on his side. A sharp rock laying at his fingertips. If he could wiggle his fingers around it and throw it with magic behind it, maybe he could at least knock the bull of a man off balance enough to get up and fight. The bald mans head glistened with sweat as he shock his head, knowing John was up to something.

Simultaneously when John picked up the rock willing a blast of magical power behind it to the mans nose, a large tree limb reached down and picked him up by the neck. Leaving the man hanging from the hangman’s noose.

When John looked up Sinn had rolled over facing him, the color of her face reminded him of the gray-white sunless days of winter when the winter storm rolled in, bare of all thought and color. What she had in her at this moment she used to save him.