The ayah plucked on her arpeggione. She was, like Princess Shalice, carefully chosen. The servant played a simple tune, all day, six days in a row. Shalice, sickened by the monotony, glared at the girl. Why haddn’t her father objected when she was chosen? He knew she loved the hunt, that she wasn’t fit for this so called honour.
“Can’t you play another melody? I’ve heard this one more times than I can stand.” Shalice snarled, startling the unsuspecting servant into playing a false chord.
“Sorry, Milady, but I must play this. It prepares you for the Union.”
“I don’t bloody care about the bloody Union!” she spat at the girl. Princess Shalice paced the room, feeling the door at each passing. However, it never opened.
Wide eyed the girl said, “Milady, it is a great honour to be chosen to wear the-“
“Oh, shut up! I don’t care about that stupid, bloody Fallal, nor the bloody Union. I want to be able to ride my horses and hunt. Loose an arrow from my bow, chase a boar. Kill something. I have no need for this so called honour.” Eyes ablaze, the princes turned towards her ayah.
“You mustn’t say that!” Shocked the servant struck another false chord.
That moment the door opened. Shalice grabbed the arpeggione from the girl’s hands and raised it to strike at whomever came in. Her face paled and she dropped the instrument. It was too late, she’d waited too long.
Three Celestial Guards, carrying bared swords, entered, followed by the Guardian. He brought the holy Fallal; sparkling and shining, it rested on its pillow, seemingly alive and ready to coil around her neck. Her time was up, once the jewel closed her in, she would be united with the God, until death would set her free.
This is my piece of micro fiction based on the word ‘Fallal’.
What can you come up with? Write a piece under 300 words and submit it to me through mail info(at)lucypireel.com. Submissions are open until October 15th.
The best one will be posted October 30th
All That's Written ... 