The door abruptly swung open, crashing into the wall once. Myral glanced up. Fathen held the door in place with one hand. The other he’d pressed over his heart as he stared at her with wide-eyed shock.

Divari hated being ordered about and had as long as she could recall. even insisted this went back further still. And since her mother was the source, she supposed it was a reliable tale.

Arles aspired to die in Maldune one day. Admittedly he hoped that day to be very, very distant with much to achieve before that even became a possibility. First, join the Heroes Guild. Second, become a legend. Joining had proven challenging enough, but he’d made it within Maldune’s walls. Surely the retired heroes here could teach him.

Maisy cringed at how under-prepared she’d been. The instructions to go and serve as nurse maid for warriors hadn’t taken several factors into account. Including that the infant she’d been charged with was a self-aware and extremely articulate griffin.

“Mav,” I repeated weary from repeated attempts to gain her attention. She stood with her back to me. Gray hair dangled chaotically from her bun. “Mav.”

I sprinted across the platform toward the waiting carriage, thin rubber doing little to disguising the rollers beneath through my sneakers’ souls. Ahead lay my escape from the last two hours’ torture in its pink gilded glory. My husband and daughter scrambled aboard the one ahead.

Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction. Deep shadow fell across the path before Ryvia. She scuffed the dirt at the amorphous shadow’s edge. “Go away, Aivyr.” “I cannot.” The voice resonated with sorrow’s somberness. A pain which tugged at her heart calling for her to answer. She…