Friday, April 20, 2012

Storm Reaper (Friday Fiction)

Hello again, everyone! It is my turn to host Friday Fiction this week. To join in the fun, just add your story to the linky widget below to read and share more great fiction! Don't forget to leave a comment. ^_^


Author's Ramblings: I think it's too soon after I watched that 3Musketeers movie. Not at all the way I remember it being--too much exaggerated drama--but still an entertaining bit, in its own way. I wholeheartedly admit I was thoroughly fascinated by the entire 'airship' idea, especially after seeing it presented so well on screen and thought I'd include them in my Storm Reaper world. Storm Reapers, are essentially, specific individuals with the gift to manipulate weather. They are rare and their abilities vary by family bloodline, in this case, I am introducing Nadalia, a new reaper child discovered by a distressed airship, the Lady Kelani. Enjoy! 
Found on Google Images. I own nothing. (Three Musketeers movie!)

FRIDAY FICTION : CHRISTIAN FANTASY : ADVENTURE


“Stand tall! Hard to starboard, deeper into the clouds!” The shouts echoed across the airship as the Rebels scurried to obey their haggard captain. Rain continued to beat down in hard, angry rivulets and jagged streaks of lightening cut through the sky illuminating the giant, black clouds.

“I don’t think we’ll manage it, Captain!” The first mate stood at attention, but his face belied the true worry beginning to rattle the small crew. “They were gaining on us as it was, if the storm doesn’t take us, they will. I don’t think we’ll survive this one.”

“I don’t think we have a choice.” The Captain said, grimly. “Would you rather go down by God’s hand in the fury of nature herself, or by his majesty’s swords?”

“Neither, thank you.” The cabin boy, Aurek, grimaced. “Da, if we don’t do something, we’re going to lose everything.”

“Captain.” The man corrected, gruffly. But there was a faintly pleased light in his old weathered face. Aurek hadn’t called him Da for many years now.

“We can’t afford to lose this ship, it’ll set us back.” The strategist of their little rag-tag group, Gerron Nalist joined the odd trio by the wheel. “I told you to hire a Storm Reaper!”

“We couldn’t afford it, so quit your griping, Ger, it doesn’t suit you.” Alycia swung down from the rigging, her short cropped hair, flying every which way in her face. “Da, I’ve done all I can. What of it now?”

“Where’s your mother?” The Captain eyed her with a critical look and gave a jerk of head towards the inner cabins. “Get in there and make sure that-”

“You can’t just hide me away! I can be more useful out here if you just give me a chance to be-”

“There’s no place for a woman on the deck of a forsaken ship bound for death.” The somber finality of the Captain’s tone froze whatever reply his daughter had ready.

She lurched forward to give him a quick, awkward hug and then slipped and slid her way across the short distance to the cabin, to find her mother.

“They still following?” Gerron called out. He cupped his hands and yodeled out a call that should’ve been drowned by the wind.

A moment later, his twin answered in the same, musical ringing shout.

“They’re closing in.’ Gerron looked to the captain. “Will you let us save ourselves, or must we all go down with the ship?”

“You’d no more save yourself than I would.” The Captain grunted. “And it’s not like you ever took orders from me, anyhow. What’s stopping you now?”

“Respect.” The skinny man eyed him shrewdly. “A healthy dose of respect in the form of that iron heart of yours.” He sighed. “Said your final prayers?”

“There are no final prayers.” The Captain almost smiled, his beard twitching. “We are simply here and then we are before Him.”

A streak of lightening leapt out from the air and struck the deck with pinpoint accuracy.

Gerron tackled the Captain to the side as the rest of the crew hit the deck. “A lightening storm?” He shouted, above the noise. “This wasn’t in the weather predictions!”

“Predictions are never accurate, you know that!” The Captain growled. “Get off me! Can’t breathe!” He wheezed.

Gerron huffed, but did roll off to the side, grabbing hold of the railing knobs to steady himself. A flicker of shadow caught his eye as he squinted into the storm.

“Gerron?” The Captain’s voice pitched low to be heard beneath the rage of the storm.

“By heaven’s light…” The strategist murmured.

“Gerron!”

“It’s a reaper!” He scrambled to his feet, hands grabbing wildly for purchase on the rain-slicked surfaces. “Over there, in that cloud, I swear I saw a-” His face grew deathly pale.

The Captain grabbed him, giving a hard shake. “Saw what? Speak man!”

“A child…” The white face paled even more. “A child…alone!”

“Da!” Alycia threw the cabin door open, her eyes wild as she searched the nearly empty deck. “Da, it’s Mum, come-aaieee!” The rest of her words died in a shriek of terror as a streak of lightening burnt the ground just at her feet, slicing through the air a hair’s breadth from her nose.

A low, rumble of thunder sounded around them.

The sound of cannon fire was heard.

“Da…?” Alycia spoke in an expression of wonderment. “Is that a…child?”

And suddenly, it was.

They could all see it, a small figure, curled up, knees touching chin, arms wrapped around legs. Burning, white, unseeing eyes stared out at the expanse of sky before it and strands of pure white hair floated up in a halo ‘round its head.

The temperature dropped drastically within seconds as the great, wounded airship heaved close by the hovering, unmoving storm child.

The eyes didn’t even blink to acknowledge the presence of the ship, but the closer they drew, the more frantic, the voices became. Soft at first, then harsh, angry whispers that mocked cruelly and taunted the poor child, frozen in a state of shock.

Aurek wriggled his way across the deck and took refuge with his father and Gerron. “Blood.” He wrinkled his nose. “I smell blood…Da?”

Alycia shrieked again, suddenly, this time clutching her ears and shaking her head side to side. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She chanted over and over. “I don’t believe you, make it go away. Go away, please go away!” She screamed again and stopped in mid-scream.

A frightening hush fell over the crew of the Lady Kelani.

Even Alycia herself, didn’t dare breathe.

One moment, she had been screaming in agony and the next, small, thin—very cold arms—wrapped securely around her waist.

She cautiously eased her hands from her ears to stare down at the storm child that had been hovering well out of arm’s reach just moments before. She stared into the pale grey eyes, no longer burning with raw energy, but rather, brimming with fresh sorrow.

“Were they yelling at you too?” The little girl asked.

“W-who? The voices?”

“They always yell.” The little girl smiled. “So sometimes you have to make them go away.”

Alycia shivered.

The temperature warmed instantly and the weather eased at once, the winds softening and the rain easing to a hazy drizzle.

“I’m Alycia.” The older girl said, quickly. “You’re on board the Lady Kelani, my father’s airship.” She tipped her head towards the Captain. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The angelic smile was bittersweet. “Bad men in a big ship came through here.” She rubbed her nose with one hand. “It smelled funny.”

“A big ship?” Alycia perked up, she looked at Gerron who shrugged in reply. “What kind of a big ship, did it look like ours?”

“No, it was bigger. Fancy.” The little girl wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like them. Are you friends with them?”

“Er, not exactly.” Alycia began, carefully. “It’s a bit more complicated than-”

“Either you are or you aren’t!” The little girl glared at her. The air crackled. “If you’re friends with them, I won’t forgive you.” Thunder rolled and boomed in the background.

“We’re not.” Gerron spoke up. “We’re rebels. We were trying to get away from them, but as you can see, we sustained damage and the storm did not help. You don’t…like them?”

The little girl sniffed. She was smaller and thinner up close, it seemed, than she’d been before and about the size of a petite ten-year-old. “They killed my parents.” She said, matter-of-factly, taking a deep, measured breath. She blew it out a moment later. “They killed Meta and Da’en.” She gave a quick bow and murmured something in the tongue of the storm reapers.

“Just now?” Alycia exclaimed, horrified.

“Mmmhmm. That’s why I was crying.”

“C-crying.” Gerron stared at her. “This entire…this storm-” he gestured to the current calm surrounding them and then at the angry swirling clouds around the Lady Kelani. “You’re doing this? This is your storm?”

“If your parents died, you’d cry too, wouldn’t you?” The reaper child demanded. “I loved Meta and Da’en very much. They didn’t deserve to die.” She sniffled. “They were protecting me!”

“From the people in the big ship?” Alycia clarified.

The little girl nodded. Her pale grey eyes narrowed suddenly and without warning a large bolt of lightning sheared through the air and a muffled explosion was heard. 

Gerron swallowed. He looked from the sound of the explosion to the little girl with a grim look etched on her face. He almost smiled. “Captain, can we keep her?”


© Sara Harricharan


  

Friday, April 13, 2012

Engraved (Friday Fiction)

Hey everyone! I'm taking over the hosting of this week's Friday Fiction. To join in the fun, just add your link and title to the widget below. Don't forget to leave a comment! 

Author's Ramblings: I don't know where this came from, just the idea of hands that were burned and the reason being a secret that was half the reason it happened in the first place. 

She sat on the oversized rock beside the mailbox, waiting as his old pickup truck rumbled into the driveway entrance and choked to a stop. He was out in a minute and hurrying over to her when she lifted her head and those dark eyes warned him to stay back.

"Andrea?"

"Stay where you are."

The eyes were piercing as they roved over his worn figure. It had been a very long day.

"Look once and look well." She cautioned.

He stared at the hands presented to him. Pale, slender-fingers, creases in all the right places and perfect, rounded fingertips.

Except for the horrible, burned scars that still smoldered in her flesh, the letters black, the wisps of smoke, grey and the result, angry, red flesh.

"Andrea..."

"I did it." She mocked, turning away so he wouldn't see the tears. "I did just what I said I'd never do, because you asked me." She laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm branded for life now, Jackson. For life. What do you have to say to that?"

Jackson opened and closed his mouth several times. Anything that he could've said was so ridiculous in the light of what he was seeing right in front of him, that he didn't dare breath a word aloud. There was nothing he could say to that.

"I thought so." She drew a shaky breath. "I thought that's what you'd say." She drew her hands back. "I didn't do this just for you." Her voice was cold and hard. "So don't even start thinking that you're worth it."

"Andy, I wouldn't have-"

"You're free now." One hand twitched, feebly. "You're free to go and live your life. I don't want to ever see you again."

"What? No! Andy, wait, I can't-"

"Read of you, maybe, hear about you, possibly." She allowed. "But I don't want to see you here again--not here, Jackson. Not in Danengreen. The day you set foot over the county line--I'll hunt you and haunt you."

"But-!"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" She smiled, darkly. "Freedom? To know what it really is? To know if it exists?"

"I never wanted you to-"

"You can't have it all, Jackson." She laughed. "You cannot have it all. I loved you, you know. I really thought I did." She nibbled her lower lip. "I must have, or I wouldn't have done this, but then again, I am selfish like that." She slowly and awkwardly slid from the rock.

He reached to help her.

"Don't touch me!"

"S-sorry. I just-"

"You were just leaving. I know." She said, pointedly. "Go. Now. Before they decide I didn't give them enough."

"Enough of what?"

"Go!"

He stumbled towards the pickup truck and somehow, numbly turned the keys and backed out of the narrow driveway.

She stood at the edge of the street and her dark eyes drilled right into him. "Freedom is worth it, Jackson. It is always worth it. He paid a kind of price I could never hope to repay in a thousand lives and years. Never. I accept it, because it is a gift, He gives it to me. Just like I'm giving it you to." She drew herself up. "You're free now. Go and don't ever look back."

The weight of her words settled on him in a way that made his stomach twist and churn. "Andr-"

"Search and run, if you must." She bowed her head. "But never stop searching and never forget me." Her smile was watery. "I shouldn't include myself, but I'm selfish like that."

He shook his head.

"Never stop searching." She repeated. "Find Him. Let Him find you. When He does, that's true freedom."

The scent of smoke caught his attention. Flecks of fiery sparks leapt from her bruised, marked--branded--hands. She refused to meet his eyes.

The truck began to lurch forward without his consent.

He twisted and looked back  in the rear view mirror in time to see his house explode in a ball of fire.

Andrea calmly moved to stand in the center of the straight and when her head raised to look after him, he saw her eyes were no longer dark, but a burning, fiery red.

The price of freedom was too costly after all.

(c) Sara Harricharan.

A/N: And that turned out to be decidedly more morbid than I was aiming for, with the idea begin hands burned, branded or engraved in relation to freedom and the gift of Salvation. The idea was that she took his place for a position he didn't want (taking on the elemental power of fire) and in turn, set him free, as long as their paths never cross again. Random musings for thought, anyhow. Thanks for reading!


Thursday, April 12, 2012

Bitten (Flash Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing

FLASH FICTION PROMPT

“Ah!” She grabbed her arm and stumbled backwards. She landed on the ground with a soft thump and lurched forward to grab her twitching leg, squeezing tight with slippery fingers in an attempt to stop the blood. The glare she threw over her shoulder said more than her mouth would have.

The horse seemed to laugh.

“What were you doing?" Justin sputtered. "I told you not to-!" He jerked the reins, hard. "You'll have to stay here. You can't ride in this condition.”

"That's fine." She smiled, weakly. “When I said ‘bite me’ I didn’t mean it literally.”

The horse and rider standing above snorted in perfect unison. “Just wait until.” Justin promised. “We’ll be back.”

“Right.” She winced. “Switch horses while you’re at it!”

The pesky horse in question merely tossed its head.

(c) Sara Harricharan

A/N: Heehee...betcha weren't thinking about that kind of a bite... :P 

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Puddles (Flash Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.

FLASH FICTION PROMPT

She jumped over the first puddle and happily danced through the second one.

Her father stood at the end of the lane, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Having fun, Analisse?” He called.

She flashed a fairy-smile at him. “It’s fun, Papi!” She twirled and made another spectacular jump. “Come play!”

“I can’t, pudding.” His smile softened and turned regretful as he watched her. “Maybe next time. Come on, we have to hurry.”

"Do we?"

"Next time." He snapped his fingers and then extended the hand, waiting.

The little girl in the solemn black dress looked up as the smile froze on her face. She inched out of the puddle and ran to hold her Papi’s hand.

They walked together, hand in hand, to the funeral home.

(c) Sara Harricharan

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Pins (Flash Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.


FLASH FICTION PROMPT

Pins and needles.

Needles and pins.

I’m waiting for you to make the first move. I really can’t wait. I’ve been awake all night just dreaming of the way it will happen.

How you’ll work up the nerve to look in my direction. How you’ll try not to smile as our eyes meet. How you’ll manage to somehow stand next to me at the bus stop. How you’ll fidget and smile and blush.

Then you’ll try and try and try.

You might stammer, stutter and sneeze.

But somehow, you’ll do it.

You’ll ask me.

And I’ll say yes.

Because I’d be thrilled to go with you, my prince.

Anywhere.

“Hey Lina!”

“Bri–oh, hey Al.”

“Want to go to the dance this Friday?”

“…sure.”

“Awesome. Pick you up at seven?”

“Seven-thirty. I have to set my hair.”

“Cool.”

Pins and needles.

Needles and pins.

To hold together the dress I’m making to wear to the dance on Friday.

(C) Sara Harricharan

Monday, April 9, 2012

Heartache (Flash Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.

FLASH FICTION PROMPT

Heartache by the dozen.
Soulaches by the second.
Every moment I think I’m living.
I realize, I’ve died.
I don’t feel anything.
I don’t need to anymore.
Because my heart may have cried for you.
Ached, sighed and screamed inside.
But I was nothing more than a shadow, barely worthy to be under you.
Because while my heart my have cried and whined and wailed.
I learned something more.
While my heart cried.
My soul died.
When it died.
I gave you up.
You are no longer my heartache.
I would rather you be a speck of dust, so that the ache in my soul is complete.
You are no longer out of reach.
I have simply grown up.
And moved on.

(c) Sara Harricharan

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Branches (Flash Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing!

FLASH FICTION PROMPT

He moved the branches out of the way, holding them high so the children could duck under his arm and continue up the path to the woods. "Keep close together!" He warned. "Pairs of two or three. Hold hands!"

The children did, with only a few mumbled complaints along the way, mostly between the guys having to hold hands with the girls, but none of them dared complain when he fixed them with a glare.

"You know what lurks on these mountaintops." He said, sternly. "Do not remind me that I was talked into this trip against my better judgment!"

One grumbling group bowed their heads, properly chastised.

"They wouldn't really, would they, Unk?" Garea ducked under his arm last and hung back to thread one of her fingers through a spare link on his belt.

"The trees come alive whenever they please." He explained, slowing his step to adjust for her stride. "They do not care why and what for." His soft voice held the faintest hint of steel. "When we reach camp, I will not have any of you straying about to explore. We will make camp and dinner and then take it from there."

The students grew quiet and watched him with worried eyes.

"The trees will come alive." He intoned. "Whether you are there to see them or not. You will not wander tonight--should you do so, your blood is not on my hands."

Garea's grip on his belt loop tightened.

(c) Sara Harricharan

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Ruby (Flash Fiction)

Found through Google Images. I own nothing.

FLASH FICTION PROMPT


Ruby red.

That is the color of your eyes

A thousand shades of red as you glare at him, and will him to shrivel and die before your very eyes.

I stand beside you and I try not to shiver.

Your warmth is tangible and offers the safety I crave.

But your power scares me.

I am so afraid.

Because your face right now, is set as if it were marble. Your lips are pressed in a thin, single line and I know if you were to speak, it would be only one line.

One single, scathing sentence would come out, if you were to speak.

But your silence say so much more.

And as you look at him, I see my fear reflected in his eyes.

Your eyes are red.

Red like rubies.

The poor fool turns and runs. I watch and wish I was him.

Then your hand is on my shoulder and I am falling for your warmth--again.

(c) Sara Harricharan

A/N: This is just a random mystery character playing around in my head. Not sure what she is right now, but she has red eyes and probably purple-brown hair. She may or may not be a firethrower. Thanks for reading and happy Easter!

Friday, April 6, 2012

Hood Cont'd (Friday Fiction)

I've the pleasure of hosting Friday Fiction this week. To join in the fun, just add your name and story to the linky below!

A/N: I am expanding my Flash Fiction bit of "hood" with Derek and Shamaya, for a dear friend and fellow writer, Kristina Rohder. This one's for you, dear! Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a wonderful Easter weekend!

Flash Fiction Prompt comes first, new addition begin at the little fancy page break. ^_^

He hurriedly yanked the hood over his head as he ducked out from the shadows and darted across the half-light street. The cobblestones sounded hollowly beneath his feet and Derek sucked in mouthfuls of icy cold air as he dodged through the bowels of the city, clinging to the shadows and breathing in the night.

“Derek?” Shamaya’s whisper wafted through the air. “We’re over here.”

He turned towards the hiss of her voice and followed it along the wind and through the shadows to materialize beside her. “Sham.” He murmured, reaching for her.

She danced lightly out of reach. “Ah, ah. Not yet. You’ve got too many shadows around you.” She gestured to his front. “I said to collect them not play with them.”

He stared down in confusion and then realized that nearly his entire figure had been swallowed whole by the thin, wispy strips of blackness clinging to him. He snickered. “I was trying not to be seen.”

“It worked.” His girlfriend threw her messy braid of hair over one bony shoulder. “Did you pick anything up while scouting?”

“Plenty.” He began to peel the shadows off of him and toss them to the corners of the old warehouse where they could be happy and keep them safe for the time being. “There’s a new watch on tonight and they’ve added to the guard.”

“Added, again?” Shamaya bit her lip. “Heaven help us.” She murmured, tracing a cross in the air before her. “How will we get the converts out of the city?”

“The same way we got in.” Derek said, stoutly. “The shadows.” He pulled the hood off his head and Shamaya gasped.

“That–that!” She sputtered.

He smiled, serenely. “That wasn’t a hoodie after all.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Shamaya threaded her way through the shivering groups, huddled close to their respective heating stones. She checked the remaining energy in each of the solar-powered heaters and frowned at the returned readings. It would be very cold in the caves tonight.

Too cold.

She frowned. “Derek?”

He was hunched over at the desk, a wide blueprint of the city spread out on the desk before him. His head turned sideways to look at her. “Hmm?”

“It’s going to be cold.” She set the reader down on the table before him. “Too cold.”

His face paled. “Sham, we can’t move them tonight!”

“We don’t have a choice.” She jerked a thumb over one shoulder, pointing at the little families and odd strangers that made up their group of forbidden converts. “I can only keep the ice at bay for so long anyway.” She shivered.

Concern stole over his features at once. “Are you drinking enough fluids?” He reached for her, wrapping her up in a warm hug. “You’re freezing, Sham!” He hugged her tighter. “You shouldn’t be this cold.”

She gave a weak laugh, muffling the sound in his neck. “Yeah, yeah, tell me what I don’t know, why dontcha?”

He sighed. “Tonight then. Who am I to argue?”

She chuckled. “Just another stubborn-headed individual in need of a reminder.” She gently untangled herself from the warm embrace. “I’ll keep ‘em off you so you can get a few details hammered out, okay?”

He managed to chuckle along with her. “We live and learn.” He agreed. “I am not blind.” He hesitated. “Warn them, okay?”

“You’re growing soft on me.” She poked his side with one cold finger.

He winced. “Ow. No, I’m not.”

“Says the man who just said ‘ow’ to a poke in the-”

He wiggled his fingers threateningly and she instantly dodged away with a light squeal. “No way! I am not—don’t you even think of that!” She laughed as she backtracked from the tickling hands and returned to their now curious group.

There were two small families, a middle-aged couple and a single child, a newly wed couple and three orphaned children to make up the group of normal, as far as Shamaya was concerned. The rest was a bit much for even her to take in. They had a down on his luck musician from a famed Quilted university, his violin had turned to a fiddle and the cheery notes he could play with his aching hands always brought a smile. A giant of a mechanic with a knack for welding metal together by glaring at it. A self-proclaimed horrible cook with a knack for throwing knives and a one-eyed man with three fingers on his left hand.

Yes, definitely an odd group.

Shamaya cleared her throat, drawing their attention. Why they’d decided to follow her and Derek, she didn’t know, but it was a responsibility she intended to take as seriously as possible. “Derek says we can move out tonight.” She waited a moment for the news to sink in.
“Tonight?”

“This night? Right now?”

“But we’re not ready!”

“Are we leaving for good?”

The voices clamored and Shamaya quickly held up her heads. “Whoa, there! Give me a minute folks, I just said that we had to move tonight, I didn’t say anything else beyond that.”

“Why tonight?” The three-fingered man, Nathan, wanted to know. “Moon’s clear out bright. It’s a bad light to be walking in.”

“He’s got a plan, we just have to follow through with it.” Shamaya frowned. “as for why tonight, it’s pretty cold, isn’t it?”

Six-year-old Christa nodded her little head in agreement from the warm cocoon snuggled between her two parents. “Real cold.” She whispered.

“The caves are icing over.” Shamaya hesitated. “I can’t hold it back forever.”

That was the trick phrase. At once they were all talking again and some were even apolgoizng 
for forgetting of her condition and how it must pain and trouble her greatly. The brunette barely managed to take it all in stride before she made it back to Derek’s planning table.

“How’d it go?”

“The usual, they wouldn’t budge until I told them what was really up.”

“Nice of them to pry it out of you.”

“Nathan doesn’t pry.”

“Of course not, he just gives you that look that makes you wish you were dead instead of alive and then you instantly tell him whatever it is he wants to know in hopes that he won’t eat you alive.”

“Got it in one, proud of you, love.” She reached for the paperweight on one edge of the blueprint scrolls. “Think of something yet?”

“Of course.” Derek scowled.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Dangerous.”

“Danger is my middle name.”

“The kind of danger that six-year-old girls shouldn’t hear about.” He hissed. “Look, we’re going to have to travel by land for a while, no sea crossings, right?” She nodded, slowly. “So they won’t be looking for us right away, but I want to try something about hiding in plain sight.”

“What kind of thing?” Shamaya asked, nervously.

“This kind.” He shimmered in front of her and disappeared.

“Derek?”

“Right here.” He spoke from right beside her.

She jumped and promptly elbowed him in the stomach. “Hey! You could at least warn a girl before you do something spectacular like that.”

He grinned.  “Thought you might like it.”

“I love it.” She beamed. “Er, what is it?”

He chuckled. “I finally found a way for the shadows to take more than one person and from a person that isn’t related to them in any other way.”

“Praise the Lord.” She murmured, fervently. “Can I help?”

“Snacks.” He rubbed his stomach. “I’m going to need a lot of snacks.”


The plan was simple and brilliant in itself. 

Derek simply ‘helped’ someone into a shadow and then walked them out and away from danger. He’d return them to their original forms when they were safely away. They’d have to all be shadows for a little while.

Shadows to the same ugly city guard that had first claimed them as criminals.

Derek gave them all a choice.

Some protested.

Some didn’t.

Others worried about the long-term effects.

Everyone agreed.



It was trickier than Derek had planned for, but it looked like they would make it. It was simply taking more time than they had and more patience that he could spare.

The young father and one-eyed Nathan were the last ones to climb the snowy hill away from the cursed city. Shamaya stood beside Derek, rubbing her arms through the thin sleeves of her blouse. “We did it.”

“No, God did.” Derek corrected, gently. “Nothing I could’ve dreamed up would’ve ever been this perfect.” He hugged her in congratulations. “Now, would you quit with the shivering already and do something?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but then turned back to the city. The soft blue eyes grew white-grey and hard as marble and then the snow began to fall as her shivering stopped and she released her hold on the cold elements. 

“Wash me white as snow…” He began to sing.

The city crusted over with ice and began to crumble as the rag-tag bunch turned away towards the tall, snowy forest looming ahead.

They picked up on the hymn, one by one, singing.

The voice floated through the air and warmed their souls for the trials ahead.

© Sara Harricharan


Thursday, April 5, 2012

Exquisite (flash fiction)

Mere Yaar Ki Shaadi Hai ~ Bollywood Film. Found on Google. I own nothing.

FLASH FICTION PROMPT

"You my dear, are exquisite." He breathed, holding her silk-clad body a tad closer to his suited self.

"Your mouth talks before your brain can catch up." His date returned, dryly. "Try for something romantic, you dork."

"Such as?"

"I don't know. Make it up. Try a fairy, a princess--a wood nymph!"

"A wood nymph?" He stopped dancing and stared down at her. "A wood nymph, Lucy? Really?"

"Hey!" She elbowed him in the stomach. "You  made me lose count." She squinted down at her feet. "Drat. Start again."

He rolled his eyes and began to dance again. "Just try not to stomp on my feet." He suggested. "Step on them. Tread lightly. No stomping."

Lucy gave a rather inelegant snort. "Right. I'll do that when you can think of something a little more romantic than exquisite."

He snorted. "Okay, fine, my precious, rare, valuable and expensive flower." He twirled her around, expertly. "I pine for you like stars that glitter in a sky that will never be swirled with the-"

Lucy sniggered. "Shut up." She buried her face in his chest. "Shut up, you idiot. Exquisite is fine. I like exquisite." She thumped his shoulder. "You my dear," She mimicked. "Are an idiot."

"Anything you say my-"

"Don't!" She clapped a hand over his mouth and dissolved into giggles.

(c) Sara Harricharan

A/N: And no clue where this one came from. I just thought of dancing and well...exquisite. Meh.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Hood (flash fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.
FLASH FICTION PROMPT

He hurriedly yanked the hood over his head as he ducked out from the shadows and darted across the half-light street. The cobblestones sounded hollowly beneath his feet and Derek sucked in mouthfuls of icy cold air as he dodged through the bowels of the city, clinging to the shadows and breathing in the night.

“Derek?” Shamaya’s whisper wafted through the air. “We’re over here.”

He turned towards the hiss of her voice and followed it along the wind and through the shadows to materialize beside her. “Sham.” He murmured, reaching for her.

She danced lightly out of reach. “Ah, ah. Not yet. You’ve got too many shadows around you.” She gestured to his front. “I said to collect them not play with them.”

He stared down in confusion and then realized that nearly his entire figure had been swallowed whole by the thin, wispy strips of blackness clinging to him. He snickered. “I was trying not to be seen.”

“It worked.” His girlfriend threw her messy braid of hair over one bony shoulder. “Did you pick anything up while scouting?”

“Plenty.” He began to peel the shadows off of him and toss them to the corners of the old warehouse where they could be happy and keep them safe for the time being. “There’s a new watch on tonight and they’ve added to the guard.”

“Added, again?” Shamaya bit her lip. “Heaven help us.” She murmured, tracing a cross in the air before her. “How will we get the converts out of the city?”

“The same way we got in.” Derek said, stoutly. “The shadows.” He pulled the hood off his head and Shamaya gasped.

“That–that!” She sputtered.

He smiled, serenely. “That wasn’t a hoodie after all.”

(C) Sara Harricharan

A/N: and Derek was going to be a street thug but somehow turned into a good hero smuggler dude. Go figure. LOL. ^_^