Short Stories

From Reign to Ice (Pt. 1): a Short Story

Hellooo, friends! I have returned from my long-ish hiatus. Tomorrow (or on Wednesday) I’m going to explain the new plan for the Right Kind of Writer, but today I’d love for you all to enjoy a medieval fantasy flash-fiction piece I wrote! 🙂 It’s part one of two. I hope you like it!

From Reign to Ice

Sludge sprayed high as Russel slid down the dune. Icy cold mud splattered his armor and stung his face. When he reached the bottom, he whirled around and steel clashed with steel as an enemy descended upon him. When the foe thrust his blade forward, Russel sidestepped and he slid forward, falling face-first into the muck.

Russel leaped away to face another man. In a fiery of slashes, he brought the soldier to the ground with a bleeding wound in his side.

The young warrior looked up at the bright, grey sky and grimaced. His chest heaved as he breathed in deep. Everything was going horribly. Yes, Emperor Hadeon’s whole armory castle was wet, every open crevice brimming with water—even if much of the surrounding desert, including where the rebels hid, was drenched as well. Daegal had done a good job of keeping it raining with his supernatural water powers—that time utilizing the rain—but he didn’t have enough time to rest before Hadeon found their camp in the desert dunes.

Everything depended on Daegal having the strength to use his powers significantly one more time, but he was too exhausted from the rain. The rebel leaders intended to allow him a few days to rest, but the Emperor learned of their plan and immediately set out to mercilessly devastate it.

Russel leveled his gaze and he surveyed the dreary blend of blood, mud, and metal all around him. He then spotted his commander and ran to him.

“Russel! Why aren’t you helping guard Daegal?!” Demanded the Major, towering over him with squinted eyes.

“I’m sorry, sire, I lost him in the chaos! Where is he??”

The older warrior leaned toward his ear, whispering directions harshly. Russel took off, bating away and outrunning anyone daring to oppose him. Then he spotted Daegal being piggy-backed by a large soldier, as other rebels fought off the fierce onslaught valiantly. Running through the disarray, the young captain joined his men.

“Oh, there you are Russel! Thank the Maker you’ve returned!” Exclaimed one soldier as he deflected an enemy blow and counter-attacked. “The desert-lizards are waiting for us just over that large dune with the tree! They’re set to take off to a remote safe house, and from there the leaders will decide what to do next.”

Russel nodded gratefully to him, then turned to where the massive reptiles were hiding. It might take some time to climb up, but he had full confidence in the dune-familiar warrior who carried Daegal to make it to the top.

Russel’s heart stopped when a well-aimed arrow sped through the air and pierced the large warrior in his side. Both the young rebel and his bearer toppled down the hill: one weak, the other fully unconscious.

The young captain leaped forward, kneeled, and checked the noble soldier’s pulse. He was still alive.

“Help me, soldier! I need to get to safety!” Daegal wailed, as he desperately tried to gather enough strength to escalate the sludgy dune.

“Will you shut up, you spoiled—” Russel caught himself before he said anything worse, but his words had already landed.

“I’m sorry, Daegal. But this man risked his life you save yours! Thank the Creator he’s still alive, however, I just needed to check!” Russel knew explaining himself wouldn’t do much, but what could he do? If Daegal wasn’t vital to the mission’s success, the young captain would have deliberately avoided the nuisance-of-a-man every moment.

But they had to win. Emperor Hadeon’s monster-forge had to be destroyed. If it wasn’t, the first legion of fully-developed orcs would walk the world—and march for the Emperor’s goal of world conquest. They would stop at nothing. No, Russel couldn’t risk global safety just because of a selfish brat.

The captain jumped into action, half-dragging Daegal upwards with one arm and using the other to swipe at enemies with his sword. They were almost at the top, when suddenly a massive boulder crashed onto the dune, launching the two young men backward through the air.

The wind was knocked out of Russel’s lungs as he hit the ground hard. Everything was fuzzy for a moment. But then reality returned, bringing with it a painful headache. His whole body throbbed as he was lifted up by another soldier who had helped lighten his fall.

Russel looked around. Somehow the enemy had managed to bring a catapult into the muddy desert. Beneath the boulder atop the dune were several squashed desert-lizards. Only one small lizard remained, cowering behind the bit of brush.

Russel regained balance and rushed toward Daegal, who was curled in the muck groaning. But before he reached the youth a sharp blade ran smoothly through his stomach. It left his body as swiftly as it had pierced it, and he collapsed onto the ground. Russel’s eyes widened as looked up into the face of Emperor Hadeon. His last action was sending a desperate plea to the Maker before all breath left his lungs.

To be continued…


Thanks for reading! Keep your eyes peeled for part 2. 😀 See you tomorrow (or on Wednesday)!

With God’s help,

Daniel Amador