Posted in Challenges, drama, fantasy, My Poetry, tragedy, Writing

Crimson Dawn

They said I’d never see the crimson dawn,
Yet in my heart is she, the crimson dawn.

They said I’d lose a duel with a god,
Yet fate has gifted me the crimson dawn.

I look upon the foe I used to love…
His drying blood could be the crimson dawn.

The loss is mine and there’s no turning back,
Alas, I cannot flee the crimson dawn.

I fall into the storm of the unknown,
At last, my hatred frees the crimson dawn.


A ghazal written for Jane Dougherty’s Poetry Challenge.

This form was hard. Excruciatingly hard. But yeah, this is what I managed to write. Excuse the weird rhythm.

Oh, and I tried, but I couldn’t find a way to insert my name into the last stanza. Just didn’t work. Anyway…

Feel free to comment!

Posted in Challenges, fantasy, flash fiction, Prose, Writing

Immortal Rainbow

After the demons came and devastated the planet, his existence was reduced to a ray of light in the center of an ever-present rainbow. He never thought he’d regret acquiring immortality, but here he was, hovering over a lifeless land, distressed and alone. He wondered what had happened to the other immortals; there were quite a few when humanity was alive. Were they rainbows too or something else entirely?

A new human race sprung forth. Some of the new mortals thought his form was some kind of magic. Others prayed to the awing rainbow. He pitied them, knowing the demons would attack again. When they did, he felt useless, unable to help in any way other than simply glowing.

This new humanity, however, was victorious.

After the remnants of the demonic storm had dissipated, for a moment, his existence was elevated to thousands of rainbows all around the planet, and he felt united with similar silent ethereal beings. Transforming into a lone little light again, he felt himself disappearing from the world. Stray raindrops—his tears—fell on the ground.

He couldn’t have felt happier.

His last thoughts were questions.

What now?


Or a reunion with the ones I’d lost?

Painting: Rainbow by Arkhip Kuindzhi

Hey, hey, hey, this seems like a happy ending! I mean, it’s sort of an open ending but it could totally be happy, right? Right?

Anyway, I tried.

Written for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge (I have no idea how that picture inspired an apocalyptic tale but OK)

All comments are welcome!

Posted in Challenges, drama, fantasy, My Poetry, Writing

Mark of Moonlight

Three Moons shine, unbothered by the dark,
Dancing with the shadows in the sky;
They surround your godforsaken Earth.

As you face the Universe’s wrath,
Let the moonlight leave its fateful mark
On your soul—do not expect rebirth.

Try to flee—your precious world will die.
Still, you’ve chosen the forbidden path
Of the Sun, your eyes ablaze with mirth…

Photo by MKcray

Sort of a myth featuring divine thingies, as (almost) always.

The trilune is an intriguing form created by Jane Dougherty. The rules: three stanzas with three lines of 9 syllables each, with the rhyme on the third line of each stanza (so, abc dec fgc). I hope it’s OK I tweaked the rules (just a liiitle bit) and made the rhyme scheme like this: abc dac bdc.

Feel free to comment!

Posted in Challenges, drama, fantasy, flash fiction, Prose, tragedy, Writing

The Assassin’s Task

It wasn’t easy to make himself look like an ancient wandering priest. It was even harder to talk his way into the mansion, but the young assassin had managed it. The powder he’d slipped into Lord Rowan’s drink would kill him by twilight, and no physician would be able to detect the elusive poison.

The boy felt proud of himself, but also scared. He wasn’t sure whether the leaders of the Order would praise him for completing a task assigned to a more experienced assassin or flog him for disobedience. He contemplated different scenarios as he left the Lord’s land, but since none of them ended in sudden death, the boy deemed it safe to show up on his mentor’s doorstep.

After hearing his student’s story, the elder assassin said,

“You use magic well.”

“I tried my best.”

“You… enjoyed killing him, didn’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

As the future assassin went to sleep, looking forward to the leaders’ decision, his mind was continuously assaulted by the images of the smiles he’d seen on the faces of Lord Rowan’s children. They didn’t have to kill to be happy, so what was wrong with him?

Written for both the Daily Post prompt and Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge.

Assassins, magic, and Van Gogh. Never thought that combination would inspire a story.

All comments are welcome!

Posted in Challenges, fantasy, flash fiction, Prose, Writing

A Dark Gift

They told me, “Don’t go near that field. A murder of never-dying crows flies above it, and their presence brings great misfortune.”

I didn’t want to listen, so I didn’t, which is why I found myself in the wheatfield on a cloudy summer day, surrounded by the otherworldly birds, their screeching deafening, their flight impossibly fast… and nothing happened. Disappointed, I spent a couple of hours roaming the field, sketching some of the birds and painting the scenery.

Once I came home, I was charged with comforting my sister, whose pet rat had died, and then burying the poor animal. I didn’t succeed with the second task as the rodent came back to life after spending a few moments in my hands.

The Mage Overseers aren’t tolerant to necromancers, so I stay away from the capital, traveling through  villages and wild lands, helping those I can. At other times, my magic goes insane.

More often than not, I find myself in similar fields (sans the deathly birds), reviewing the artworks I made that fateful day. The birds disappeared from them, leaving white sketch paper and an empty acrylic sky.

Their darkness chose to creep into my soul, it seems.

Another story for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge (a less morbid take can be found here).

Van Gogh is too inspiring. No, seriously. I’m sorry. (I’ll try not to write a third one).

All comments are welcome!

Posted in Challenges, drama, fantasy, flash fiction, Prose, Writing

Journey Into the Night

The cold wind was howling, and its wretched song seemed to reflect what was going on inside my soul. As the flock of hollow-eyed crows veiled the sky, I knew it was the end. Nothing constrained me, but I was captive; my brother would make sure the wheatfield stretched out forever from where I was standing, so I’d have no safe place to run.

I said his name so quietly I couldn’t hear my own voice. The next second, my twin stood in front of me. Only his expression was the complete opposite of mine—confident, fearless, murderous. I smiled and closed my eyes, asking him to make it quick.

“This can stop,” he said.


He pointed to the birds.

“They claim they can help find the wizard that cursed us.”

In different worlds and in multitudes of lifetimes, we would be born twins, both gifted with magic and the memory of our past lives, and both mortally ill. The sickness would leave one twin only after the other died and plunged into limbo until the next cycle.

“Let’s go,” I said, not caring if it was a trick or whose trick it was.

We followed the crows into the night.


Written for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge.

I so love this painting. Van Gogh is awesome *dreamy sigh*

All comments are welcome!

Posted in Challenges, drama, fantasy, kyrielle sonnet, My Poetry, Writing

Rain and Lightning

Rain and lightning—desolation,
no place to run—our fate is clear.
We are lost in desperation,
there’s no way to destroy our fears.

We place hopes in our own magic,
but will it wash away our tears
or wreak more regret and panic?
There’s no way to destroy our fears.

Guarding us against relentless
demonic kings, their heinous heirs,
our familiar grows more restless.
There’s no way to destroy our fears

Rain and lightning—desolation,
there’s no way to destroy our fears.


A kyrielle sonnet written in response to Jane Dougherty’s Poetry Challenge. Not sure how this turned out but I seem to have returned to a more dark mood=D

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments!

Posted in Challenges, fairy tale, fantasy, Writing

Dragon Child

The toddler was stuck in his lonely crib, forbidden from leaving his room by his parents– and they were rarely at home. He spent most of his days looking over the crib through the window, sad and wistful.

His only company were his toys. The child’s mind conjured them easily. He let the small ones into his crib sometimes, while the bigger animals were situated on the floor of his spacious chamber. They seemed intelligent, but they were all mute.

One day, he let his imagination soar and created a red scaly winged beast, and the dimensions of his room had to be expanded to make sure his new friend had enough space. Soon, the child’s mind began to broaden as well; for some reason, his new creation could speak, and its rough voice enchanted the boy with prospects of freedom, new worlds and possibilities.

Shortly after, the boy’s parents returned to find their child gone. A strange beast sat on the floor of the room instead. The two deities were only mildly surpised to recognize their offspring’s gaze in the creature’s eyes. Finally naming their child, they freed another god into the multiverse.

His name was Dragon.


 Artist: Else Berg

Written for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge.

I can’t seem to write anything but fantasy these days. Probably the effect of the novel I’m working on. Magic is everywhere, and life is good=)

Feel free to comment (and criticize)!