The Night of Change - Flash Fiction Part 1
In her absent minded daze she stared off into the distance lost in thought as the small waves crashed around her, she hadn't noticed their expanding intrusion.
She knew these ruins as her family's ancestral home, since they were destroyed and then claimed by the sea she and Arihkal had often used them as a secret place to meet away from the villages and stress of life living under the Hamne - and now this place felt empty without him.
Tears no longer streaked her face, she no longer gripped the rose or the ceremonial pearls intended to signify the unity of two when encompassing both making vows - a bond stronger than stone but as fragile as glass.
She knew what this meant, Arihkal had died sacrificed himself to save her, now she was alone and Brackhan the Etbac of her family's former kingdom would do as he pleased with her - if she allowed it.
But in the hours since she saw the life drain from her lover's eyes, she had been changed something Brackhan hadn't anticipate on - no longer was she the sweet girl of the day before, today she had lost the one thing that meant most to her.
With the loss of Arihkal she knew Brackhan would claim her for himself and she'd allow it, but on their first night together she would end the man that took her heart from her - and make him suffer the pain she felt.
Brackhan arrived as the sun rose, he had come to claim his prize - he had won the challenge fairly as their law would dictate, why should he delay his spoils? She thought to herself.
He had no need to speak when he reached her side, she obediently stood and followed a step behind as he silently led the way to waiting elder - the ceremony was rushed by Brackhans force, she had only need to nod now only a subservient wife to cruel beast of a man.
Unlike Arihkal who allowed her swear her oath first a sign of honour for any woman, he was kind and gentle and had loved her since they were both children.
She didn't notice when the ceremony ended, she only heard the grunt from Brackhan to indicate she needed to follow - once realising she stepped into place immediately.
As they reached the camp filled with Brackhans fighters she realised the number of men that he had under his command, she swallowed her fear she was willing to die to honour her love - she just hoped the men would end her suffering swiftly.
Brackhan approached a large tent in the center of the encampment and entered, she dutifully followed without hesitation - the giant man drank swiftly from a metal decanter, then threw the empty remains across the room.
She yelped involuntarily at the jolting sound unready for it's violent intrusion into her reverie, Brackhan locked his eyes on her smaller frame - he crossed the room in an instant and threw her to a pile of furs on the ground.
She lay there dazed for a moment until her vision cleared and she saw him remove belt and sword, she sifted onto her elbows and propelled herself back away from the large form now moving over her.
He lowered himself onto her she could barely breath under his weight but as she shifted underneath him she managed to free her right arm, as he lifted himself slightly and began to abruptly lower himself again she had the dagger in place - he forced himself onto her blade, confusion clear on his face.
His blood poured over her body and face as she pushed up with all her might as he began to roll to her left, blood pouring from his mouth as he gasped for air.
She now climbed on top of him forcing the blade in further, she began to cut around the top of his chest until she freed his heart and cut it loose while he stared up at the girl he had just married.
She held the plump organ in her hand, she was now drenched in blood - she stumbled to her feet and forced herself to walk out of the tent to the waiting camp.
As she emerged blood dripping from her face and body, the dagger in one hand the lifeless heart in the other - the men all stood back in apparent shock and confusion.
She held the heart above her head screaming "I only took from him what he took from me" throwing the bloody ball of meat to the ground in front of her - "Do what you will with me" and let the knife fall at her feet.
She closed her eyes ready for her coming death, only to hear the voices of the men cheering joyously and kneeling in front of her.
The ways of the Hamne were still so foreign to her people, they had only been conquered by them ten years earlier - their customs were strange and they never seemed to act as one assumed they should.
Confused she stood there blinking, until they started chanting Etbac then she realised she was now their leader.
What is a Flash Fiction?
Flash fiction is not a short story, short stories are completed tales with all the story there on the page.
Whereas flash fiction is like a snapshot of a story, it can be set during the beginning, middle or end of a story - but it isn't the whole picture just a short part of the text that can stand alone.
The goal here is to set the scene, establish characters and build a storyline - and hopefully leave the reader imagining what is going to happen next.
Each flash fiction piece is inspired by a picture or image that I will include in the post, and from that the story is built or at least a fragment or moment within the story.
I will be making a series of posts like these, all based on different pictures that inspire me in that moment.
I am using the tag flashfiction and I would like to invite writers and steemians to feel free to join in and use it too, I don't have any prize money to offer and this isn't a competition - just an opportunity to practice and have fun creating content.
If you do want to join in for some fun and a bit of a personal challenge, simply use the tag flashficiton, find a pic and get writing - and soon we'll all have a plethora of new stories to read.
By the way this series was going to be called storyshorts but I have decided flashfiction works better so please use this instead of story short if you're interested in joining me.
Check out my story
or follow me on twitter @krystlehaines
Wonderful! Upvoted and folloewd, I'm one spet away from becoming a fan of your art:)
Just to clarify it's not my art only art that inspired me to tell that story :)
Just checked out your page your art is amazing, followed!
I meant the story:) Writing a story is an art too:)
Lol cool, I'm glad thanks :D
I was a little worried people would be off put by the violence, so happy to hear you enjoyed it.
People have different preferences:) Someone will be, but someones loves exactly such stories:)
Very true, I guess you just have to hope the right people find it at least more than those who won't enjoy it :)
Exactly:) Feel the same about me creations. Sometimes you just need the right pepole to see it:)
I've just been checking out some of your posts, you're truly an amazingly talented artist!
Thanks, glad you loked it:)
I curate over at Steem Trail and normally we don't curate flash fiction, but we see a lot of it. It might be time for someone to start a curation trail for flash-fiction. The tag is popular, there are plenty of writers, and the rewards can make a difference. Think about it and check out the Fiction-Trail Discussion Group
I will definitely check it out, thanks for letting me know :)
The ways of the Hamne were still so foreign to her people, they had only been conquered by them ten years earlier - their customs were strange and they never seemed to act as one assumed they should.
This is indeed strange. Recall that according to the story, Hamne’s warriors selected the princess (calling her the princess because her name wasn’t provided) to be their new leader, because she “defeated” or rather back stabbed their leader Brackhan. I would imagine Brackhan had some sort of next of kin and getting rid of Brackhan would free his place as a tribe leader. Realistically any medieval tribe would immediately execute her, of course, not before letting her have it with all the lieutenants in the army. That’s what her people would do and that’s why She closed her eyes ready for her coming death
It is even more surprising that Hamnes were a nation of conquers somewhat similar to Vikings, I presume. So even if they would spare her and give her some sort of an honorable position as a civil governess, they wouldn’t accept her as the head of their army without a military experience. Cutting the heart from one man’s chest I don’t think would qualify.
But then again it’s flash fiction and you don’t need to tie this scene down to anything at all.