Glimpses: an Anthology of 16 Short Fantasy Stories: An exclusive collection of fantasy fiction

by Kevin Partner

  The little Goddess landed on her shoulder and peered into her ear. ‘Could I drown her out with the sound of the wind?’ she asked.

  ‘Could you blow her away?’

  ‘Who is it that tortures you so?’ she asked, flying around and landing on the stone before her.

  Melora opened her mouth and then closed it, glancing at the serious look on Sythia’s statue. Instead of saying the name, she mouthed it. Air looked confused for a moment and then turned to the statue herself and shook her head.

  The tears escaped before she could stop them with frustration that no one could help her or believe her. How long until her husband thought her mad and the Sisters watched over her in some long forgotten part of the castle? Just as they had with her grandmother before she had fallen from the wall.

  She stood suddenly, Air flitting out of the way, and marched to the statue of Sythia. ‘You did that,’ she accused. ‘What do you want?’

  The Temple remained silent around her.

  ‘I want an answer,’ she yelled up at Sythia’s too calm features. She drew in a deep breath and felt her magic build. Her skin warmed and tingled and her heart beat slowed. ‘Sythia, you will stand before me,’ she said in a clear voice that carried around the Temple and Air flew up to hide behind her own statue’s flowing hair.

  The air prickled Melora’s skin and she smiled.

  ‘So much force,’ Sythia said as she appeared before her. Her thick silver hair flowing around her shoulders, she was beautiful and yet there was something ugly in the way she looked at the Queen. ‘You demand my attention, little woman.’

  ‘What do you want of me?’ she asked.

  ‘I want your crown for myself,’ Sythia said simply.

  Melora was dumbstruck for a moment. She hadn’t expected Sythia to tell her secrets so openly in the Temple. ‘But you are a Goddess.’

  ‘Who is no longer loved by the people of this land. They look to you for answers; they look to your crown to guide them. They no longer love the Gods as they should.’

  Melora looked up at the statues of the Gods, the stone formed into angry glares focused on Sythia.

  ‘The people come here to worship you every day,’ she said, offended on behalf of her people. The Gods were such an important part of life for everyone.

  ‘They come to meet friends; they come in obligation and habit. They do not pray to me for what do they think I can give them?’

  The Raven Queen searched for an answer, hoping she hadn’t been blinded, and the people did love the Gods as she did. She opened her mouth to justify her people but the Goddess before her walked to her own statue, running her hands across the smooth stone.

  ‘I know what is best for the people of this land,’ Sythia said, her voice resolute. ‘I knew that they should never be led from one within. They need us. You need us.’ Sythia turned and looked into her eyes. ‘You need me.’

  ‘You would rule for yourself first and not consider the needs of the people. The Gods chose me to carry on my father’s legacy.’

  ‘I can fix that,’ she hissed, stalking forward.

  ‘Like my grandmother,’ Melora said.

  Sythia stopped then and smiled. ‘If only she had listened.’

  ‘No,’ Melora said, her voice loud and clear and confident. ‘I will not do as you direct.’

  ‘You will give me your crown,’ she said angrily, her voice echoing around the expanse of the Temple, her body as stiff as her stone statue upon the platform.

  ‘Your words have no meaning to me,’ Melora continued. ‘For you are not a Goddess of the people.’

  ‘You will give it to me or I shall take it.’ She stepped forward, her eyes dark and shadowy. ‘I shall take you.’ Her smile made the Raven Queen shiver and she lost some of her confidence.

  Sythia turned into a shadow before her. Melora searched for Air but she was gone or hiding too well. The shadow lost the shape of the Goddess and filled the space around her, pushing against her. Just when she thought she couldn’t breathe a breeze flowed through the Temple and the shadows disappeared.

  Melora dropped to her knees and sucked in deep breaths, the Temple was silent around her and the statue of Sythia grinned down at her.

  She pushed herself to her feet and stepped forward. ‘I won’t let you do this,’ she said and then turned on her heel and ran all the way back to the solar. It was dark and quiet when she returned and then her husband’s loud snores reached her and she sighed. Had she been away from them for so long?

  She checked on Robert first, who sighed in his sleep and pushed the covers back. She moved forward quickly and pulled them back up. She gently kissed his cheek and he murmured and rolled over. He was too grown up now to allow his mother to kiss him, and although she was proud of the man he was becoming, she missed the little boy. She pulled the door closed quietly to check on his little brothers. They slept soundlessly, no snoring, no movement and a moment of fear made her move forward slowly. Leaning over Eric, she could feel his breath on her face and she turned quickly to Oren and repeated the test.

  She sighed with the relief and yawned. Sythia was winning in a way. Even if Melora wouldn’t listen to her whispers, her influence seeped into her life. She shook her head and headed for bed, climbing in beside her snoring husband, she gave him a little nudge with her elbow and he rolled over, the noise ceasing. She snuggled into his back and closed her eyes. Morning would come too soon.

  It seemed only moments later that her husband was shaking her awake. ‘Must we,’ she muttered, trying to curl back into the covers but his hand was firm on her shoulder. ‘What is it?’

  He straightened then, his eyes red and his hands dropped by his side; he still wore his nightshirt.

  She was out of the bed and passed him and pushed into the younger boys’ bedchamber. The room was silent but strangely full, two Brothers stood at the end of each bed and Sister-nurses leaned over her boys.

  Her heart stopped and she turned at the footsteps behind her to find Robert, looking younger than he had last night. He threw himself into her arms and she closed them tight around him.

  ‘Fever,’ one nurse said. ‘It is an illness we have not seen before and it came on so quickly.’

  Melora nodded slowly, finding it hard to breathe, the fear of the night before closed in on her. She wondered if she should have taken a closer look at them; that she may have missed how unwell they were.

  Releasing her eldest son, she sat on Oren’s bed and took his hand in hers. It was so warm. The boy groaned and she took the wet cloth from the nurse and placed it over his brow. She removed the blankets, wondering why they would cover him up when he was so warm already. Large red blotches covered his legs and she lifted his night shirt to reveal them over his body.

  She looked up at the nurse but she shook her head.

  Pulling Eric’s covers back revealed the same marks across his little legs. She swung around on her eldest and he took a step back, but she stalked toward him. Fear closing her throat she pinned him against the wall and lifted his shirt. His skin pale and clear and she wrapped her arms around him as a sob escaped.

  The nurses fussed over the children all day and the Brothers stood watch. Melora moved between the two beds; she held their hands and wiped down their bodies to keep them cool, while whispering reassurances.

  As evening closed around them, her husband took her hand and pulled her to the back of the room. ‘You need to rest,’ he said. But she shook her head. She needed to be with her babies, to help the nurses.

  He nodded and kissed her forehead. ‘I am here,’ he said and she noticed, for the first time, that he had taken the time to dress.

  ‘Thank you, my love,’ she said, running her hand along his sad and pale face.

  ‘Mama,’ Oren called out and she was on her knees beside the bed, his hand in hers. Glassy eyes focused on her for the first time that day.

  ‘I’m here,’ she said, running her hand through his hair.

  He squeezed her hand tig
ht and smiled, never taking his eyes from hers. ‘Are you listening?’

  ‘Of course I’m listening,’ she said.

  ‘Now you will,’ he wheezed.

  ‘Oren?’

  The air left his body in one long breath and his stare continued unblinking. She choked down the scream trying to escape as the little hand in hers became limp.

  She turned to Eric, breathing rapidly, his whole body red with the heat of the fever. She took his hand and brushed her lips over it.

  ‘Listen,’ he said and then he too slipped away.

  ‘No,’ she croaked, the loss closing her throat.

  ‘What did they want you to listen to?’ the young Brother asked and she looked up to make eye contact with the old Brother standing in the doorway.

  ‘She is punishing me,’ she said, still holding Eric’s hand, his eyes staring at the ceiling. ‘Sythia has done this to make me listen to her. She thinks I should not be Queen,’ she stammered as the heat of her magic prickled her skin.

  ‘You could have saved them,’ her husband accused. ‘You could have, you could have asked the Gods.’

  She looked down at the tiny hand in hers and placed it carefully down on the covers. She pushed up from the side of the bed, her legs numb and she wondered for a moment if they would hold her up.

  ‘I can only ask advice,’ she said softly. ‘Not for this. I cannot ask them to give me what they cannot give others.’ She looked down over her night shirt and stepped forward. Her husband grabbed her arm but she pulled out of his grip and left the room. She walked unseeing, her heart burning with hot anger, her feet bare.

  There were many people in the Temple as she entered and it quietened instantly. People bowed down before her, despite her strange appearance and as she marched toward the Gods, they left.

  ‘Why did you not kill me?’ she screamed up at Sythia’s statue, unchecked tears running down her face, the prickly heat covering her skin grew hotter. ‘Do you think this would bend me to your will?’

  ‘If this does not work I will take more,’ Sythia’s voice said far too close behind her and Melora swung around but there was nothing there.

  ‘You have already taken it all. Face me,’ she yelled, her strained voice echoing through the Temple.

  ‘I don’t answer to you,’ she hissed.

  ‘Then no one shall call on you again,’ she said, pointing her rage at the smirking statue on the platform standing amongst the other Gods. Melora clenched her fists, drawing everything she had into her hands and then she rubbed them over the feet of Sythia’s statue, feeling the charge move into the stone. ‘You want my power. Here, have it.’

  ‘No,’ a Brother called, racing from the back of the Temple but he stopped midway at the strange cracking sounds that filled the Temple. ‘What have you done?’ he called as he started to back up and Melora felt the heat of her magic cover her skin again.

  The statue before her cracked across the surprised face and shook, the whole Temple seemed to sway and then the statue exploded to dust. It settled slowly throughout the Temple and the Brother began to cough.

  More Brothers appeared in the Temple along with several Sisters.

  ‘Sythia did this,’ she said, unable to stop the heat that flowed over her body.

  One of the Sisters shook her head.

  ‘She killed my sons,’ she screamed, turning on the other Gods. ‘How could you let this happen? You wanted me to be Queen. You wanted me to rule the people.’

  Silence followed and then someone laughed.

  ‘You will never be what they wanted you to be. You can never be to the people what I can be,’ Sythia said, standing tall amongst the dust, her grey hair flowing longer down her back than it had before. ‘It is time for a new Raven Queen.’

  Melora shook her head and holding her hands out before her aimed her hatred at the Goddess. But as she directed her magic, Sythia raised a hand and a Sister fell. She tried again and the Old Brother staggered and dropped to his knees.

  ‘Stop it,’ Melora shouted.

  ‘It is you that does this.’ She stepped forward, fading to a shadow again. ‘You are strong,’ she said, ‘but I am stronger.’

  The shadow surrounded Melora, as it had done the previous night, closing tight around her. As she tried to breathe the cold shadow moved inside her. She shook her head and held her breath.

  ‘You cannot fight me and win.’

  Melora’s magic built until her whole soul burned with it. But the shadows continued to close in around her, dampening her magic and filling her being. She squeezed her eyes closed and was lost in the darkness. The silver hair of the Goddess wrapped around her as she floated in the void.

  Her skin burned with magic and Melora pushed out with all her might. She could see Sythia straining against the energy but Melora was losing ground. Sythia laughed and her face grew hard.

  ‘Just as I killed your sons…’

  Melora’s concentration broke for a moment thinking of her little boys. She struggled to gain control again. A dark grey swirl appeared in the darkness and for the first time Sythia appeared truly afraid.

  ‘It is the Silence,’ a male voice said near Melora.

  ‘I should rule this land,’ Sythia screeched.

  Kira’s perfect face came into view; and Kion’s strong voice reverberated around her, ‘Hold on.’

  She gripped his hand tightly, a moment of panic that she was not worthy to touch the Gods passed quickly as Kira smiled and squeezed her other hand. ‘You are safe,’ she said.

  Melora opened her eyes to find herself lying on her back in the Temple, looking up into the faces of a group of Brothers, standing around her in a circle.

  The shadow moved quickly around the Temple and then stopped. It formed into the shape of the Goddess but she did not reappear. It screamed, filling the Temple with the horrible sounds of her pain.

  Melora sat up quickly, her head spinning. All six Gods appeared before her, as though they had stepped from the platform. The Brothers closed their eyes and the Gods moved toward the shadow of Sythia.

  ‘You need to be silent,’ Kira said.

  ‘You will be silent,’ Kion added.

  The Gods disappeared and then reappeared surrounding Sythia, in a similar circle to the one Melora sat in. They closed their eyes and as Melora blinked the shadow of Sythia disappeared. They turned to the Brothers who all knelt before their Gods; Melora remained frozen.

  ‘She will not harm the people again,’ Kira said, stepping forward and resting her hand on Melora’s shoulder.

  ‘She is lost to the Silence,’ Kion said.

  The Brother bowed down and touched his head to the floor. ‘We shall keep watch over the Silence to ensure there is no chance of escape.’

  Kion smiled. ‘You are a good friend to us.’

  ‘We shall keep the watch,’ a Sister said, stepping forward. The four Sisters behind her nodded and they bowed down to the Gods before them.

  ‘We gifted you magic to ensure a link between us,’ Kira said to Melora reaching out a hand and helping her to her feet. ‘Sythia used it ill but I fear what you may do with it,’ she said glancing at the platform where Sythia’s statue once stood. ‘We must take it away.’

  Melora shook her head. ‘I cannot survive without it,’ she whispered as the Goddess ran her hand over the back of Melora’s.

  ‘It will be as it must be,’ Air said, appearing as a woman as tall as the other Gods. No longer winged, her hair and clothing looked as though she floated in the air, rather than stood on the ground.

  And then they were gone. The Brothers and Sisters stood in a group, talking of what was to be done next. Melora stood before the Gods feeling only emptiness. The loss of her sons cut sharply into her chest. She shivered from the cold that filled her body now rather than her magic.

  She dropped to her knees as the world sat heavily on her shoulders, the burden of the Raven Crown too much to bear. She turned at footsteps and as her husband and Robert ran toward her, she
watched the boy’s hair turn to raven black and she let out one last breath and closed her eyes to stand before the Gods again.

  ‘We did not intend to take you from your people,’ Kira said softly stepping forward and wrapping her arms around her. ‘We only wanted to prevent such a thing from occurring again.’

  Melora felt the warmth of the Goddess’ love fill her, the cold of moments ago a distant memory.

  ‘We shall not interfere again,’ Kion said, running his hand over her head. ‘It is time the people lived without us. And without our gift of magic.’

  ‘The one chosen to wear the Raven Crown will bear the only sign that we continue to watch over the people,’ Kira said as she stepped back.

  The other Gods murmured their agreement and Melora took Air’s offered hand and allowed her to lead her away.

  Read more

  The Silence is based on a legend from The Raven Crown Series.

  For more from Georgina Makalani visit her site: www.theflowofink.com/

  Flight of Flame

  Cameron Wayne Smith

  Set shortly after The Holtur Enigma

  Hot spring baths, massages, and other relaxing beauty treatments were perfect for the other ladies. For Sonja on the other hand, they were plain boring. They’d all been sent up to Aestridge, a resort town built into a volcano. It was to help them get back to their true selves, or something along those lines. Sonja didn’t need to, she was only there to watch out for the others.

  She was walking through the cavernous, warm tubes looking for something to obliterate her boredom, but everything here catered to luxury. Sonja had just kicked a small chunk of grey, volcanic stone from the dusty path, when an enthusiastic man popped out from the shadows.

  “You look a little lost, madam,” the man said while stroking his thin black mustache.

  “Not lost,” Sonja grunted, the man didn’t seem intimidating—not that any men were to her—but she knew he must want something. “Just a little bored and taking a walk.”

  “Bored?” His eyes grew wide, and he fixated both hands on either side of his brown, leather frap hat. “I may be able to help with that.”