Fiction and Creative Writing

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Miranda

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• January 27, 2013

Miranda’s dark blue skirts fluttered with the soft breeze that blew across the pier. Her head lifted back so she could take in the massive ship. Dark wood with carvings made to look like waves encompassed the hull. Large, white sails were being untied by a dozen or so of the crew while others ran about the deck under the sharp orders of the ship’s captain. A beautiful carving of a mermaid stood at the bow, looking as if she was about to dive away from the ship. The mermaid’s hair flowed seamlessly backwards to meld with the deck.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Naonet

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• November 18, 2012

Naonet slapped a hand across the surface of the water, dispelling the image from its surface. He sat back against the high back of his stone chair, pushed a hand through the few strands of hair he had left and growled when half of those came out in his fingers. Soft giggling echoed from high above. A smile, or what could be halfway considered a smile, twisted the corners of his cracked lips. He shifted his gaze up to the pool of shadow that clung to the ceiling.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Miranda

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• November 11, 2012

I wonder if they’ll like me. Miranda tugged at her bodice but the boning was too stiff. Her ribs protested as much as her feet as she shuffled down the halls in these ridiculous shoes with a heel taller than the width of her palm. She preferred her own clothes of soft fur to the extravagant silk her parents sent. Parents, Miranda thought. She often dreamed about a woman’s face. It was soft, like hers, with the same white hair and calm blue eyes. When she sat on the beach back home, Miranda often thought of the woman’s smile. Now that she was going to meet her mother, however, Miranda wondered if she would be like she dreamed or something completely different.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Priestess Rolanda

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• October 29, 2012

Queen Cassandra was sleeping by the time Rolanda returned from the council. Several of the queen’s handmaidens were by her side, clutching their prayer beads tightly in their small, white hands. Pendants of solid blue topaz hung from their frail necks, etched with Salacia’s likeness.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Adina

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• October 21, 2012

The thoughts of those around her buzzed like flies in her mind, yet she kept her focus on Brennus. She fought to keep her face expressionless, but soon the strain from her power began to show on her face. Just before she decided to let go, Adina noticed Brennus grab a pendant around his neck. A sudden surge of power emanated from him, nearly breaking her connection. Adina took a deep breath and opened her mind a little more, reaching out to Brennus’ mind.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Garreth

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• October 7, 2012

Wynlan City Market was bustling with activity. Merchants shouted lucrative taunts to naive, unsuspecting tourists while children danced in the water fountains lining Town Square. Scents of fried meat mixed with flowery perfumes from the far south and pungent potions from the Kaitu Islands, making the air barely tolerable. Garreth pushed through the throngs of people with his hood drawn over his face and kept close to shadowy alleys. Thieves were as common as rats during the summer months, looking to lighten the heavy purse of some round-eyed tourist. He tightened his grip on the pouch he carried and raised his gaze to the Royal Embassy.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Sir Caldon

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• October 1, 2012

Shortly after he arrived with Miranda, the news arrived from the islands. The queen’s body was burnt from head to toe. They thought her dead until she started screaming when the priests doused her with blessed water. Blind and crippled, the queen was rumored to have been locked away in her chambers while King Haron hosted lavish parties with his mistress. That last bit of gossip boiled Sir Caldon’s blood, but he swore an oath to Cassandra he would keep Miranda safe no matter what happened beyond the Goshken Forest, even when it meant he could never return.

The Knight, the Seer and the Child: Cassandra

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• September 23, 2012

The child’s wailing cries pierced the silence of the dense forest. Above the thick canopy, several beams of moonlight barely illuminated the path before the cloaked figure running from the palace. She clutched her daughter tightly against her chest, praying the cries would be stifled. Every crunch of the dried leaves under her thick leather boots matched the pounding of her heart in her ears. One hand retrieved the dagger from her belt and hugged her daughter close. She would rather see her child dead than in the hands of what lay behind them.

Alara: Chapter 14, Final Chapter

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
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• September 16, 2012

Alara clutched the radio tight in one hand. “He will pay if he hurts her.”

Telloc gently pulled the radio from her and tossed it aside. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. “We’ll get her, I promise. Look at me.”

Alara lifted her gaze to meet his just as Telloc kissed her. Though rushed and tense, the gesture sent a wave of calm over her. She laid her head against his shoulder for a moment before pushing out of his arms. “Let’s end this.”

Telloc nodded and slipped his hand in hers, holding a scrambler in the other. “Together.”

Marna rolled her eyes. “Lover birds, could you get off your high cloud for two seconds to follow the damn plan?”

Alara: Chapter 13

• The Oredigger
• Fiction and Creative Writing
• No responses
• September 9, 2012

A steady downpour drenched Telloc, Marna and the ten men huddled behind them. Telloc told himself it was rain, even though rain had scarcely touched their world’s surface in twenty years. Real rain wouldn’t have smelled like sulfur or stung like a low dose scrambler beam. Telloc held up a hand, commanding a halt. He could feel the men’s relief at being able to stop their trek through the muck even if the pungent scent of decay steaming up from the ground made their heads spin. Telloc pulled the hood of his jacket tight over his head, wiping away the liquid obscuring his watch. Eleven thirty was flashing a bright, neon red.