Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction. This week, the story is part 2 of the tale began last week. Be sure to check back to catch the beginning.
When Lyse reached the cliff’s bottom and village’s edge sweat tickled down her back. The flames guided her path and through them she watched the landscape dance. Trees morphed from burned spindles to full and green. Homes walls crumbled and restored as she watched.
Ellys was still fighting then. Lyse had known she would. No matter Andres’ fears at whispered words of witnesses to Elyss’s flight claimed, none had been harmed. She glanced at the Tholes home and could see no one within the crumbled walls before they reconstructed themselves.
Yes, her sister fought still. Lyse would reach her in time.
The flames guided her to Nolle square on the town’s left edge. A final wall parting to reveal a circle of calm at the square’s center around the old well. The poles suspending the well’s roof were covered with the marks of generations of lovers.
Ellys had loved the well and spent countless hours imagining the destiny of those who’d come before. Lyse wasn’t surprised to find her there, sitting on the wells wall, eyes closed, and with a poll at her back.
Her steps faltered as she took in the sight of her sister. The black lines flowing over her skin an increased, marking the spells progression.
But her sister was still there. Raising her hand, Lyse stepped forward hesitantly.
“Even the air smells different, Lyse.” Ellys’ eyes fluttered open. The white of her eyes gone to darkness. The roof of the well burned behind her. “It’s glorious.”
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