Fantasy #2: The mute and the quill

  
It is getting closer and closer to the joy that is Christmas! I hope everyone has been enjoying the nibbles and the drinks that this festive season brings! Time to indulge, and time to read!

Here is the next story, two out of four, for the week in the fantasy collection. This is a story that I did not alter or edit after the writing experience as I felt if I went back I would over think it. So I have left it in its raw form. 

One more thing before I unleash the story upon you. If you have any prompt suggestions that you wish for me to turn into stories please  either leave a comment on here or contact me on Twitter. I have a few already that will be posted early January but looking for a wealthy stash to keep my mind occupied with. The usual format is three separate lines that I either turn into a three parter or a prompt style of your choosing. I’m pretty easy in that respect. I look forward to hearing from you! 

I now bring to you……  

                         The Mute and the Quill

“They are approaching. I’d say, ten minutes, maybe less,” Turk screamed from the windowsill.
“We need to hurry, and the damn thing won’t work,” Hass raised his voice in anger, throwing the quill back on to the table. 
“Whose up next?” Llor asked as he scanned the room.
Everyone fell silent, looking back and forth between each other. 
“They have gained speed, folks. We are running out of time,” Turk squealed. 
The tension in the room was more potent than ever. They had been there for twenty minutes and still they had no answers. Uri sat at the far end of the room lounging in the chair. He was the first to have his chance and in turn the first to fail. “What about Sasi?”
The whole room turned to face him, even Turk turned his attention away from the oncoming troops to check if he was being serious. Sasi waited at the door clutching her bow to her chest, unsure if she had heard Uri correctly.
“The mute?” Llor asked in surprise. 
Uri shrugged his shoulders. “What we got to lose?”
The whole room turned to face Sasi. She had not been able to speak since the age of five when she saw her parents murdered, their lives cut short for their possession of magic. Sasi had been spared her life, her veins lacking the strength of magic. Being unable to converse had its benefits and she did not entirely miss the charade of false pretences too much. Sasi preferred to be in the shadows, using her skill as a marks woman and being rewarded with alone time once the operations were completed. She had no desire to be the centre of attention.
“You’re up, Mute. Make it count.”
Sasi placed the arrow on the floor and took a tentative step forward to the table. Uri had failed first, followed by Llor, Turk and Hass. They all had belief they could make it work even without the aid of magic in their heritage.
Sasi reached the table and looked at the quill. It was wooden with a metal tip, brown and black and looked like it had been around for a few hundred years. The belief was that it held magic, allowing the possessor to write the future and use it as a weapon of sorts.  
Sasi pushed the quill with her middle finger and a shock ran up her arm, jolting her back. The others looked on, curious at the jolt but were smart enough not to question it. A stinging sensation ran up her arm but she persevered. In one swift motion, she grabbed the quill and held it up in front of her. 
Nothing. 
It was too late. The enemies had entered. A blue flash of lightning lit up the room and caught Uri in the chest, throwing him against the wall. Turk was hit between the eyes with a stray red blast, knocking him against the window. Llor ducked beneath the table for sanctuary but had been spotted by a female warrior. She flew through the air with grace, landing on the table and piercing his heart with a sword. Hass was the last. He ducked a magical blow, rolling and catching a man’s foot and sweeping him to the ground. He turned just in time for the quill to be imbedded into his head. The room went silent, the intruders anticipating the next step.
Hass slumped to his knees in front of Sasi, who ripped the quill from his skull and felt the energy surge within her skin. She pushed his head away and his body fell with it. 
“You did good girl, you did good,” Len said walking up next to her. 
He was the leader of the Warriors and the man she agrees the deal with. The death of her clan for a life she was destined for, the heartache of her parents death at the hands of Hass’s parents still strong. It had been a lifetime coming but finally the day would be hers. The power in the quill surged through her blood. Len placed a leather bound notebook in front of her, along with a pot of oil that contained a magic unknown to Sasi, and smoothed out a plain page. 
“You succeeded in delivering our enemies, now feel free to use the gift and good luck to your memories. Magic will forever be your guide,” Len said with a nod before turning to exit. “Let’s move out.”
The Warriors left with a sound of heavy boots. Tears dripped to the page as Sasi scribbled with the quill, the words shining in gold, the pages disintegrating into embers and encasing Sasi in brilliant gold.

—-

Sasi woke up in her childhood bed. Her pink unicorn curtains concealing the light, her brown teddy clutched tight to her chest and the smell of cinnamon rising from downstairs. Her mother was making cinnamon pancakes. 
Sasi jumped out of bed, slipped into her bunny slippers and ran out of the door and bombed down the stairs. She was overcome with the smell of cinnamon as her mother sat back, raised a finger and allowed the pancakes do their own thing. 
Sasi ran to her mother and hugged her tight. 
“Good morning, missy, get seated,” her mother said with a chuckle, hugging her back and ushering Sasi up to the seat. 
Her father walked in, tall and broad, in his heavy lumberjack attire with a smile as wide as his face. “Morning my lovely ladies.”
Sasi waved as she sat at the table. Her father walked over to his little princess and bent to one knee. “Want to see some morning magic?”
Sasi nodded with enthusiasm. Her father messed up her hair, stood tall and with a few waves of a hand, an array of brilliant colours spread throughout the kitchen. Sasi sat on in amazement, watching patches of fireworks explode close to the ceiling. 
Once the magic fizzled out and the food was ready, Sasi had a change of heart for the day’s plans.
“Can we stay in today, please mummy?”
Her parents looked on in shock. “But you have been looking forward to the town for weeks?”
Sasi shrugged. “I prefer to stay here with you.”
“Very well,” her father said. 
Sasi smiled and turned her concentration back to the pancakes, her life destined for a new path.