The Dark Priestesses

Their lord was captured by the priestesses of the Dark Sect.
She couldn’t let them have him. He was a good soul and needed to be saved.

She got her sword, mounted the mare and whistled for her companion dog.
In a minute they were flying through the woods, avoiding the branches and roots, trying to find the hidden shrine of the dark priestesses.

It wasn’t easy.
The woods were dark and very dense. Riding amongst its trees wasn’t a smooth ride.
Sometimes it also felt like they were going in circles. Maybe they were indeed.
And on top of it all, there was powerful dark magic protecting the shrine from being discovered.

But they needed keep trying.
His life was at risk and the villagers needed him.

She summoned her own Gods to help her on her quest. Hoping they’d help.

After two days riding, stopping only briefly to eat, and having had almost no sleep, the dog sniffed the air and started to bark and howl.
The mare panicked and wouldn’t go on.
She could also feel it. They were getting close.

She tethered the mare at a nearby tree and called the dog to come with her.

As they walked towards the force emanating from the trees, she became weak, her mind was going blank, but she was still struggling. She had to be strong to safe her lord.

After a few minutes of very hard walk, they came to clearing, where the priestesses were standing in a circle, with her lord tied up in the middle, subjugated, kneeling at the center, his head down.

She only had time to hear the spell before passing out herself.


Goddess of

the unliving!


I proclaim

this person

to your

eternal service,

on death.


Her lord was deceased…

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #3, hosted by Carrot Ranch.

The challenge today was to write a piece of fiction of about 200-300 words, that included a septolet as a spell or a charm.

Initially I though only the septolet would be required and crated the one above naming is “Verborragic Avada Kedavra”. But it was only once the rules were posted, and I leaned it should be in the middle of a story, that I created the story around it to go with it.

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Deborah Lee!

Good job to all the participants!


Portuguese version: Sacerdotisas do Mal

The Closing Night

It was the opening night of the great and spectacular illusionism show. The public was excited.

But only Aluin knew it would actually be his closing night. So many years bringing magic and awe to people’s life, made him feel his own life was lacking some of that wonder. Knowing the tricks took the magic away and consumed his soul.

He didn’t want that life anymore. He also wanted to feel the magic and awe other people saw through him.

The show started and he did his most amazing tricks ever, culminating with his own disappearance from the stage.

Ovation radiated from the theater. The public was in pure ecstasy and stood there giving him a warm and frenetic round of applause for at least 30 minutes, waiting for him to come back and take a bow.

He never got to hear the applause, though, as at that time, he was sailing the paradisiac seas of Indonesia, trying to fill his life with a different type of enchantment.

This post was written in response to the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, with photo prompt provided by myself, and contains 167 words.


The picture was taken while we were waiting for the performance of The Illusionists (hence writing about magic shows).
Pictures are not allowed during the show, but we arrived early and I couldn’t resist the blue light of the stage in contrast with the Chinese-themed decoration of the walls and ceilings of Seattle’s 5th Avenue Theater.

I hope it will inspire you all with great stories.

And if want to read all of those great stories, click the blue frog below and links to them will appear like magic in your screen.


Fiction in 50: Public Enemy Number One

The public was in awe.
The tricks performed by the magician were unbeliveably amazing.
Some were trying to explain the tricks, some were just accepting that magic may even exist.
Then it happened.
The mice chewed the loops that held the curtains, and the secret to the tricks was revealed.


This post was written in response to the Fiction in 50 July Challenge.