Tuesday, 24 November 2015

Writing prompt 11

Now this one was super duper fun with plenty of challenge. Would you read the book based on this climactic ending?


[WP] Write just the climax of an epic fantasy novel, without explaining the world, backstory or characters. by Amablue in WritingPrompts


Tesslia plunged her hands into the milky depths of the pool. The light burned along her nerves in excruciating waves but she pushed her arms deeper into the liquid. She could not fail, too much depended on this final act. The sounds of clashing swords and screams faded from her awareness as she felt her hands curl around the soft object they had worked so hard to find. Gently she began to lift it but the pearlescent water seemed to resist her. Sweat broke out on her forehead and the muscles in her arms became knotted cords in a desperate tug of war. Infinitesimally Tesslia felt her body tilting toward the swirling surface of the water the ridge of the pool pressing harder into her hips. She pressed her feet harder against the side.

Draviat glanced up in a moment of stillness in the battle to see Tesslia falling forward. He could not reach her in time. The gripping pain in his chest sucked his breath away then the moment melted into a mighty swing of his sword and he had no more attention to spare for the girl they had sworn to protect.

Edvar had fallen against the crumbling column, blood seeping from wounds too numerous to count. She lifted her hand and created a ball of flame in the palm of her hand. It flickered weakly. She snorted a little puff of air from her small nostrils. “So it ends like this?” she drew in as deep a breath as her battered body would allow.
“Do I have regrets? Too bloody many but I won’t go out without a light show they will not soon forget. For freedom!” she screamed. From somewhere deep in the sixth level she drew the final reserves of her strength, the last of her magic swelled and a mighty burst of iridescent flames burst across the battle. Drarks and Ventlings caught fire, iron tipped staves shrivelled to ash, swords and arrow heads melted and all were blinded momentarily by the vivid light. Many enemies collapsed screaming as their retinas blackened to useless.
“For peace.” The whisper puffed past her blue lips on her dying breath and her body slid to the floor.

“Noooooooooooooooooooo.” Invarg crashed through the bodies and weapons with a desperation bordering on berserker rage. He skidded across the final space on his knees and stopped beside her. Huge hands lifted the tiny frame gently from the floor and pressed her to his massive chest. A doll in his giant embrace. Great droplets fell from his eye, splashing away the blood from her face, so peaceful in death.

Draviat and Flit moved closer to the giant and tugged him to move back toward the pond.

“Invarg, they need you.” Edvar’s voice whispered in his mind. “Let the pool wash me.” The giant sobbed as he slid the tiny body into the milk pool and watched her sink beneath its opalescent sheen.

There was no sign of Tesslia.

The masses of the enemy were too numerous to keep down for long. Janielle still held her sword and leaped lightly across to join them. She too showed her exhaustion but she pulled Breen to his feet and pressed his sword into a blood soaked hand. The remnants of their little army gathered around the pool forming a ragged circle in a last ditch effort to protect the final dust mote of hope. The last twelve of hundreds looked with bleak dread as the hoards closed in on them.

Tesslia fell into the pool without a splash. The white liquid surrounding her deadened all her senses. She could not tell which direction she faced, if she still held the object, if there were temperature or time and she did not know if she were drowning or breathing. No sensory input to guide her. A brighter white mote of light in the surrounding drew her toward it. Slowly the shape of stars and galaxies replaced the white in an ebon sky and they spun past her faster and faster, comets, asteroids, planets, solar systems, galaxies and clouds of matter sped past where her stationary position. She felt that the whole universe had moved past her at the speed of thought then suddenly it stopped. She teetered on the edge of everything. A voice or a knowing whispered in her mind. She felt the inadequacy of the words even as she thought them and knew she would never be able to describe this experience and the voice that was not a voice. Peace flowed through her. She was all. She knew all. She felt all from the tiniest mote of dust falling through a sunbeam to the first cry of a baby to the giant stars exploding, imploding and being born. She could choose to be all of this, have all of this, the whole universe would be hers if she stepped forward, all things were hers for the taking and being.
Draviat. Love. No time and all time passed.
She stood by the pond clutching the bundle from the bottom of the pool. The ripples of light around her fluctuated through the many hues of the light spectrum, throwing ripples of colour across the devastation of a battle. She raised her free hand and spoke. Light moved across the floor in a golden wall sliding over bodies and weapons, rubble and stones. Where it touched, wounds healed, plaster repaired, weapons melted into blobs of molten steel, timber burst into leaf and rooted itself through the cracks in the floor. The enemy simply disappeared.  Tesslia sank to the floor and pulled back the cloth from the bundle in her arms. A small arm waved and a little drool dribbled down the tiny chin. The baby gurgled and managed a toothless grin. “So you are what all this fuss was about hey?”

Draviat dropped down beside her. She smiled as the baby curled her little fist around his finger.
 “You going to tell us what happened?”
 “I made my choice.” She leaned over and kissed his bristled cheek. “I chose you.”



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