Elf's Random Musings

Soooo, like I said there's a fantasy anthology that's doing open calls and they're going to pay $50.00 bucks if accepted. $50.00 bucks for a 10,000 to a 15,000 word story is too good to pass up. So I'm going to try, and even if I fail, it's good practice.

The publisher wants some sort of magical item to have presence in the plot. So I'm going the easy way with a magical (read cursed) sword. Sooo, here's the first page:


Wind whistled through blackened grass, fanned flames in its wake, and whipped back well worn black robes to reveal a long, skeletal hand. Blackened notes of energy sparked between gaunt fingertips before straightening to launch the crackling power forward. The dark force raged forward, gathering more and more mass in its wake as it completely stripped the earth it touched as it plowed forward. Dark violet and deep red sparks etched into the black power’s massive form and crackled out like bolts of lightning until they struck the ground.

A cry echoed through the fire right as a bloodied blade cleaved through the deadly energy, dissolving it in its wake.

The robed figure shoved back his cowl and stared at the small form before him and tilted his head. He made note of the long, dark blade being wielded by diminutive, fragile hands as narrowed eyes the color of emeralds met his. Long golden hair had partially escaped from a long plait framing a heart shaped face not suited for the grimace the young woman was currently sporting. Dull armor was stained with black ichor and dull red, the same stains that marred the blade of the sword that had halted his attack.

“So, are you the latest of the hired swords that paltry village has sent to amuse me?” he asked with a smile. He took a step closer, his robes fluttering behind him, and tilted his head at the fact that the swordswoman took a step closer as well. Her brilliant eyes didn’t leave his face as she flexed her hands around the hilt of her sword.

A barbed coil of metal that was crossed along the guard of the sword spiraled up the girl’s arm to her elbow. Small drops of crimson trailed down her arm and dripped down to the scorched ground below. As he watched the sword pulsed with a faint red energy that made the blade seem to glow in the waning light. An emaciated finger tapped equally thin lips as he watched the latest in the line of his would-be killers.

She tilted her head and her lips curved ever so slightly as she adjusted her stance. “Something like that,” she said in a light, lyrical voice that was filled with the rolling accent of the lands of the North.

He steepled his fingers together and asked, “Do you know who were hired to kill, girl?”

“Yes. Lord Achan, Terror of the South, Bane of the Eldrich, and a list of titles as long as my blade. I’d thought you’d be taller actually,” she said with a shrug as she let go of her sword with the left hand. Despite the attachment to her arm, she was able to spin the sword in graceful arcs with ease before bringing her left hand to the handle again.

She looked around at the flames that were still flickering around them and Achan took note of the precision of the cuts of the dead around them. Limbs of all shapes, different species, and sizes still clutching elegantly crafted weapons littered the ground around them, the eyes from severed heads were still bulging with terror, and other body parts were strewn about with a skill that belied the swordwoman’s petite frame. Achan looked at the pulsing deep red aura around the blade she held with ease and opened his senses.

Shivers of pure pleasure ran up and down his spine in ways his undead body had long forgotten. His head swam as his vision blackened and knees shook as could feel the force trapped in that carefully forged blade. A sigh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes to look at his attacker, this girl who had slaughtered his forces single handedly, and smiled. His hands itched to touch her blade, feel its hunger race along his body, and to unlock its true power.

“I understand that I’m a might bit more pleasing upon the eyes than the normal mercenaries that have been sent to attack you, but don’t seem so pleased about it,” she said as her small, upturned nose wrinkled.

Achan laughed, a sound rather like bones grinding, and said, “Girl, I have lost interest in the pleasures of the flesh ages ago. However the pleasures of magic and power are all the thrill I need.”

“And what you need to keep yourself alive when you’ve been long dead,” she said with a smile that made her eyes flash, “You’re a Lich after all, and I didn’t need the villagers to tell me that.”

“And what are you then? Some aimless mercenary allowing coin to direct her to where she should draw her blade?” Achan said with a snort.

Her stance shifted and she said, “Something like that.” Then with a bellow she charged at him with her cursed blade raised.

Achan forced magic through his limbs to dart nimbly backwards as her blade cleaved forward. He could feel the chill of his own power flash through his limbs as he prepared another spell to end the swordswoman’s life. Blots of sickly green lightning danced between his finger tips this time as he bellowed out a word in a language long since dead. A wave of acid green miasma rippled towards her, but the sword cleaved through it, leaving faint sparks in its wake.

He blinked as he summoned Air to lift him off of the ground before her before chanting rapidly beneath his breath. The sky began to darken even more and lightning cracked the heavens before thunder roared around them. With another bellow he threw up left hand to point it at the sky before pointing his right dramatically at her. Lightning flashed blinding, white light in the sky before thunder clapped again.

Green eyes widened before she jumped out of the way of a lightning bolt striking the ground where she had been moments before. He laughed at the look on her face as he met her gaze and said, “Heavens crush her before she is merely a handful of dust at my feet.”

Thunder roared through the air again as the sky began to glow with white as more and more energy rippled through the clouds. Achan snapped his fingers and the ground was pelted relentlessly from above. More and more lightning bolts went crashing to the ground, seeking out the small armored form. He smiled as she attempted to dodge more and more and laughed as the next bolt made her stumble ever so slightly.

She shouted out before swing up her sword as the lightning attempted to pelt her into the ground. Achan’s eyes widened as the pulsing blade cleaved through some bolts of energy or deflected them harmlessly all together. He clinched his fists before throwing both hands to the sky with a roar to completely overwhelm her with the sky’s relentless force. Yet with each volley he noticed that she moved closer and closer.