Another Wednesday, another flash fiction. Enjoy the story!
“Why must you press me?” Ashelia said shrugging out of the woman’s grip and stepping away.
The woman just grinned at her, head tilted and eyes wide. Almost as disquieting as the glitters drifting lazily around her. “Because it’s a ball, my dear!” Her voice broke with enthusiasm.
Ashelia gestured to her clothing. Sturdy but nothing fine. “I’m hardly fit for such an occasion.”
“Easily corrected.” The woman, Ashelia really should get her name, raised her clutched the stick she clutched as it flared with light.
“No,” she screamed twisting to shielded her eyes. Not that running from magic was practical. The stuff tended to do what it wished.
When the light dimmed to eye watering, Ashelia looked at herself. Her clothes were gown sparkling as if the woman had trapped the bits drifting sparkles in cloth. Fine and far too attention grabbing. She couldn’t go. Especially, not like this.
Ashelia jerked backward as another bolt of light seared the darkness. Fortunately, this one was aimed at a stray gourd fallen at the side of path after the harvest today. Her relief drained as it sprouted into a carriage.
Her feet moved of their own violation forcing her into the carriage. “I don’t wish to go,” she said futilely as the was bustled inside moments before it stuttered into motion. Looking out the window she watched the woman disappear, waving unconcerned.
Tearing at the handle, she remembered the price from the forest and shuddered.
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