Furious Fiction: The Great Faery War

posted in: Writing Challenges 0

This week, my blog post is another Furious Fiction, this time mine (last week I published my husband’s efforts). I’m not happy with this, by a long way. Why am I publishing something I’m not happy with? Well, to a degree I’m always a little unhappy with my work. But also, this is something waaaay outside my comfort zone, so as a first attempt, it’s probably what could best be described as “a valiant effort”. A C- if it was being graded. Finally, I wanted to be a bit honest to the project – writing 500 words in 55 hours and producing a good quality result is hard. This is proof that sometimes the results are less than entertaining!

The Rules: The story must include:

  • A long time ago in the first line
  • star(s)
  • war(s)
  • force
  • something that flies

So without further ado…

The Great Faery War

by Felicity Moore

“A long time ago, no, wait. A very long time ago, before the Great Faery War, the Ilsyad and the Faelnyar lived peacefully,” Gilnar paused, a distant explosion rumbling. She sorted through weapons. Her gnarled, aged fingers made slow progress.

“Were they friends, Gilnar?” asked Bellevay. “The Ilsyad and the Faelnyar?”

“They were, Belle. In fact, Queen Mehendrael of the Ilsyad and the Faelnyar’s Queen Alanthera were best friends.” Gilnar hunted for the right blade.

“How did the Great War begin, if they were such good friends?” asked Marix, Bellevay’s twin.

Gilnar sighed. “How do all great wars start, my darlings? A broken heart, of course. It is inevitable when best friends fall in love with the same man.”

A blast shook the building, closely followed by the sound of howls. The twins looked at Gil, fear mirrored on their faces.

Rat-a-tat-tat! A knock at the door. All three jumped.

“Time to go,” came the brusque call.

“Quickly now, my dears,” Gil said. “I need you to listen carefully.”

“Gilnar, I don’t want to go,” whimpered Bellevay.

“How can they force us to go to war?” Marix whispered.

“I need you to listen to me,” Gil said as she tucked a tiny sword into Marix’s boot.

“My darlings, the War was started by a curse. Mehendrael and Alanthera fell in love with the same man and he could only choose one queen. He chose Mehendrael.”

Gilnar looked out the window, wishing she could see the stars instead of lights from deadly explosions.

“Alanthera was livid and had her conjurer create a curse that would pit faery against faery for thousands of years,” she sighed. A tear slid down her cheek.

“But of course, every curse has a key and can be broken.”

The door burst open.

“It’s time to go!”

Gil spoke loudly as the twins were pulled from the room. Marix grabbed a small sword.

“And unto the faery worlds a gift shall be given,

“Strong of body, bright of mind,

“A bond too strong to be riven.”

Gil grabbed one of Belle’s hands and one of Marix’s hands. In her other hand she pulled the sword from Marix’s boot.

“Please forgive me!” Clutching each twin’s hand to the hilt of the knife, Gil plunged it deep into her own heart.

Belle and Marix shrieked.

Gilnar slumped to the floor, scarlet blood blooming on her chest.

Belle launched into the air. “Gilnar!” she cried, her wings fluttering furiously as she darted about.

Marix stared down at Gilnar.

“Gilnar was Alanthera’s conjurer. She cast the curse,” he said slowly.

Marix gently closed the dead faery’s eyes.  “And now she’s broken the curse. And unto the faery worlds a gift shall be given. That’s us,” he said. “We are descended from Lucaviel and Mehendrael, born with the power to break the curse. We had to be holding the sword as it killed Gilnar.”

Outside, the sounds of battle died away. Marix put down his sword.


Photo by 小胖 车 on Unsplash

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