A Story of Blood and Fire
Far from the Dragon’s warm castle Zíva and Rhiannon galloped through the misty dusk. They were cold and exhausted but they pushed on. Their mystical steeds never tired no matter how hard they were pushed. Zíva rode in nothing but her tattered ankle-length trousers and her thin tunic that was more hole than fabric. She had given her threadbare cloak to her sister when the sun had begun to set. It was only the harvest season but when the sun began to set it felt as though they were already firmly in winter’s grasp. This would be Zíva’s twenty-seventh harvest and as the oldest of the three sisters, she always made her the younger girls were taken care of - even if it meant giving up her coat on a cold autumn evening.
Rhiannon shivered underneath the thinning cloaks. She knew her older sister must be freezing but Zíva had a caring heart. No matter how much Rhiannon protested Zíva had made her take the cloak. They’d been searching for Morzanna since daybreak. A few tracks in the mud and raven strands of her mare’s mane on a low-hanging branch were the only signs of her they’d seen.
“We should make camp. We are too far from home to arrive by nightfall if we turn back. Father will worry but not as much as he’d worry if we return home without the little one,” Zíva announced, reining her steed to a halt.
“I agree. You know, Sister, we should stop calling Morzanna ‘little one.’ I think it fuels her insolence. This will be her nineteenth harvest. As much as Father wants to deny it, she is a woman,” Rhiannon responded, halting next to her sister.
The sisters began to make camp in a clearing in a wood. Rhiannon gathered firewood while Zíva scavenged the woods for edible mushrooms and roots. A small stream bubbles across the far side of the clearing and Zíva fills their water skins while picking mushrooms. She will make a warm soup. Rhiannon watches her sister from afar as she stokes the fire. When Zíva returns to camp she busies herself with her work. She hums a tune - the tune their mother had sung to her as a small child. Rhiannon remembered the tune, but just barely. The sisters huddle close to the fire and wait for the soup to boil. Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching…
Morzanna huddled in the dark woods at the far side of the clearing. She struggled to keep her teeth from chattering. How she wished she could be by the fire. She knew her sisters had been searching for her and knew they were camped a few yards away - she could see Rhiannon’s golden hair glowing in the firelight. Rhiannon had always been the pretty one. Zíva was a healer; the whole village came to her for ointments and salves. Rhiannon was a fearsome fighter and the purest beauty - people came from all around for weapons instruction or to ask for her hand. Father was always very proud. But what did Morzanna have? Nothing. She could not brew tonic or mix salves - she is beautiful, but in a plain way, not strikingly so like Rhiannon. She will show them. She will find the sword and shield buried long ago in the Crypt of Kings and she will slay the Dragon. Many had tried and failed but none were as clever as Morzanna. She would show them that she was no longer their “little one.” All the Dragon’s hoard would be hers. She would live in a warm castle while her sisters shivered out in the cold…
Circling high above the clearing in the woods she watched as two women built a fire. She had eaten her fill of sheep but she was still hungry. Mutton was getting tiresome. She craved wild game. Opposite the women building a fire on the other end of the clearing by a trickling stream, something crept in the bushes. She circled lower to investigate. She hoped for a juicy deer but would settle for a wild hare. She spotted movement and dove…
Rhiannon sat watching shadows dance in the flames of the campfire when she heard a blood-curdling scream. Before Zíva could react, Rhiannon had pulled her sword from its sheath and was bounding across the clearing toward the sound. Zíva swiveled toward the noise and heard a rushing whoosh of air. Crimson wings blotted out the harvest moon…
Author's Note: In Worlds Collide Pt. 2, I wanted to finally introduce the last character, Morzanna. I also wanted to finally bring together the Dragon and the sisters. This will be the story before the climax and eventual end of the story. In this part, I wanted to make Morzanna's motivations clear as well as expand the characterization of the sisters. The Dragon has until this point gotten most of the characterization so I wanted to make the sisters a bit more well rounded. For the sound, like in part I, I wanted to add something to make the story more immersive. I chose a crackling fire with nighttime natures sounds to put the reader firmly in the woods with the sisters, hearing what they're hearing. The pictures serve the same purpose. The misty woods at the beginning draws the reader into the scene and then as the night progresses the next picture of the clouded full moon firmly places the reader by the fire with Zíva and Rhiannon. I also wanted to tell this story from multiple perspectives to give the reader a look at the scene from multiple vantage points. If this is confusing please let me know. Stay tuned for more!
Bibliography can be found on the story "And So it Begins"
Image Attribution:
Misty Forest: https://www.pexels.com/photo/japan-suicide-forest-634770/
Cloud Covered Moon: https://postcardfiction.com/category/flash-friday/