blogwithvalor

My wife and I are going to a concert today and because of the drive, I won’t be able to write a short. I’m not much of a morning person, so writing it this morning wasn’t even a thought that occurred to me.

At the tail end of the pandemic lockdown, my wife started found this writing exercise to help me write more. We wrote a bunch of topics (e.g. wind, first person, religion, monsters, sci-fi, horror, etc.) and threw them in a hat. We would pull 5 out and then write a short based on that. There are plenty of versions of this out there, but this was the easiest to do on short notice when people were just started to go out again, fully masked. We made it cooperative, where she would write a few lines and then pass it to me to do the same. I tended to write more, but that was the goal anyways. I really liked the things she’d throw at me in her portions. It felt like a good way to keep myself from writing the same story over and over and over again.

Anyways, this was one of those stories, written on the 28th of November in 2021. At the time she said it was one of her favorite things I’d written. I’ve often thought back to this story and I think this is the one I want to make a novel first. We’ll see. There are a lot of story ideas I’ve come up with recently that I like a lot too.

Enjoy.

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5 Topics: Winter, Male, Wind, Fire, First Person

The warmth of the fire begins to melt the snow off my clothes, but my wife’s blood will forever leave a stain on my hands. There’s a trail of water and blood from the snowy woods behind the cabin leading to the fireplace where I sit. My legs are soaked to the bone. A little into the woods is a knee-deep creek that I hope will throw the guard’s search party off my trail. I hiked a couple miles upstream just to put some distance between us. I may have lost a couple of toes, but I needed time to think. Eventually, they’ll find this cabin. The question is, will I be here when they do?

Just a few hours ago we were walking through the town square, my wife and I, holding hands. She always loved walking by the shops, window shopping. We could never afford anything, but it was fun to stand around and debate which suit-dress combo would work best for our next ballroom event. Of course, there was never an event. We would never be invited to the kingdom. It was a beautiful dream.

We were commoners. Meant to labor away our days in this mountain town. Forever providing coal to the kingdom and all its glory. They went to war with other nations over each other’s gods and we were a vital role in supporting that effort. We kept the kingdom warm and their steam engines running. The kingdom’s guards would constantly sprout this propaganda to us, while treating us like human garbage. They took what they wanted and left hardly anything or anyone in their wake.

My wife always found a way to help those that suffered at their hand. She was a minor healer. Not quite able enough to join the kingdom’s university for those gifted by the gods, but it was more than anyone here was able to muster. She was an undying light in the darkness. No matter how much this town went through, she would be there helping it heal. It’s what kept me working hard in the coal mines and stopped me from throwing my own life away whenever the kingdom held another public whipping over a stolen loaf of bread. I needed to be there for her because she was there for everyone else.

But today, it was supposed to be like every other day walking through the town square. We were supposed to walk down the same streets, past the same shops, and end up at our favorite pub. But after reaching the town square we discovered the kingdom’s guards were stopping everyone in the streets. They pulled people out of the shops, even the fat and rich store owners look puzzled as to why they were dragged into the open air. There was a mage with them.

She was fully cloaked with the hood completely covering her head. The brim of it had the kingdom’s insignia of the wind god repeated in gold embroidery. It was a common enough pattern to see on the suits, gowns, and shoes my wife and I dreamt upon as we strolled through the square, but never had I seen it in gold.

She would approach every person the guards had pinned to the wall and outstretch her palm to their forehead, revealing a well-manicured hand and exotic set of stones attached to every finger. I could faintly see the indigo stone glow as she met each townsperson’s gaze. That is, until she finally came to my wife.

We were both standing backs to the wall, her hand in mine. We had 3 guards around us. Two beside my wife and I and one in the middle, standing directly in front of us. As the middle one stepped aside, the mage approached us. She stared deeply into my eyes, with an intensity that chilled my bones and made me still. Her hand was over my forehead for no more than a breath before she pulled it away. She approached my wife and held out her hand. This time, I could see the red stone shine.

The mage hardly seemed surprised and, for a moment, it seemed like everything was going to be fine. That’s when the mage turned to the guard holding my wife’s arm and nodded. He immediately began pulling her towards the mage as she walked to the town center. The same place the kingdom held the public whippings. Nothing good was to come. I could feel her grip on my hand increase, but I could hardly gather the strength to return the gesture. The mage’s magic was still overwhelming me. Turning my gaze towards her and gritting my teeth were all I could do as her fingers slipped out of mine.

That’s when a heat grew from within my chest, thawing the bones that the mage had frozen in place. I don’t know how to explain it, but I could tell that it was my wife’s magic. It was her warmth, her touch. I struck the guard holding me to the ground and ran towards my wife, but the mage moved so swiftly that I could barely make out her image before I felt her cold hands on my neck. I was frozen again, but this time I could feel the skin touching her hand begin to freeze.

The mage looked at me puzzled for a moment. She was staring deep into my eyes looking for an explanation as to how I could break her magic. All I could do was stare at my wife, who was staring back at me. Our eyes fixed on each other for what should have been my last breath, but the mage smiled. I think she realized in that moment what my wife was capable of. She released her grip on my neck, but her magic enveloped my being and left me more still than before. The whole town seemed to be under her spell as everyone stood motionless, staring as the scene unfolded.

The mage reached her hand into her cloak and withdrew a small black obsidian dagger. She held it up for a moment, ensuring I could see it. Then suddenly, faster than I could return my gaze upon my wife, the mage was standing there in front of her and my wife fell to the ground, blood pooling quickly under. The mage turned slowly back towards me as tears began falling down my cheeks. Her obsidian blade was blood red, but not just from the blood. The blade glowed red as if it were now ruby and a light shown inside of it. She had stolen more than the life from my wife, she had stolen her magic. Then, in an instant, she was gone.

Her magic had left with her and I was free to run to my wife. I held her body in my arms as the blood ran down my fingers and onto the cobblestone. The guards seemed puzzled by the sudden disappearance of the mage, but quickly began gathering around me. That’s when I realized I needed time to think. So I ran. I ran to our hideaway cabin in the woods. I ran because my life was over. No more dreams about tea parties and ballrooms. No more late night drinks at the pub. No more of her warm touch.

But something inside of me told me to move, to keep going. That if I stay alive then I might get the chance to find the one bit of my wife still alive. The red obsidian blade. I don’t know how, but I know I will not stop fighting until I am reunited with her.