Flash Fiction

9 – Rise of the Realms Spin-off Short Story

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Since the day Kat DuPont made a deal with the Fee of the Earth Realm, each realm has begun to merge. Follow along with Rise of the Realms *FREE* Flash Fiction short stories, and watch as her consequences unfold.

To the readers: Each flash fiction will be written from scratch at the time of posting – a complete “on the spot” writing of the author’s imagination. Each story will be written and posted immediately, untouched by an editor. Reader’s be advised: these stories are dark, Epic Fantasy – adolescent readers are not recommended. At no time may this be copied or reproduced in any way, without permission. (C) D. Fischer 2018.

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This photo does not belong to D. Fischer. The copyright remains with the owner itself. D. Fisher holds no rights to this picture.

Ferox wades outside the Domus Timore, lost in thought. The black lava, which makes most of the Demon’s Realm, sloshes against her green skin and parts around her body as it passes. It’s a gentle, silent flow, unlike an ocean whose speech and song never end.

The Domus Timore is a conundrum itself. The same lava – the home of the Pyrens – flows up, constructing the detailed walls and turrets of the castle, while maintaining the current’s mellow course. There are no doors, no windows, and no obvious point of entries. The lava wall parts and allows access to the inner castle, but only to the creations of Corbin.

Absentmindedly, she flicks her fin under the lava, maintaining her floating position while she stares, transfixed, with disdain. The movement of her fin disturbs the red veins within the black lava, forcing them to break free at the surface. A puff of smoke rises from the broken veins, releasing a puff of steam and the stench of sulfur.

Demon wails haunt the castle. It’s the painful birth of new creatures – souls delivered by Pyren’s themselves.

This isn’t the life Ferox wants for any of her people – to be servants of the Fee of the Demon Realm, forced to kill innocents – to lure and drown them, only to trade what’s left for an eternity of consuming terror. Their innocents will be gone, exchanged for an existence that delivers fear across the realms.

I would be lying if I didn’t believe there is a certain thrill to death itself, Ferox ponders honestly. But an eternity doomed in servitude, forced to aide Corbin in his demonic creations, constructed by the souls lost at sea. . .

The tentacles along her scalp flick, agitated, their tips dipping into the surface of the lava, and she curls her top lip, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. As her breath quickens with anxiety and raw anger – the injustice of her existence – her cheek’s gills rapidly ripple along her skin.

Behind her, black lava falls gush in a slow stream down cliff rocks, portals for the Pyrens and other demons to travel to other realms. A disturbance in its flow breaks Ferox’s train of thought, a splash in the lava averting her gaze. She turns her chin, tilting it over her bare, slender shoulder.

The dark green fin of her sister’s tail sloshes, a break at the surface as she travels Ferox’s direction. With seductive movements all the Pyren’s possess, her sister’s head emerges, unhurried. Hot black goop dribbles down the slopes of her face, and her large inhuman eyes blink, angelic.

“Taramo,” Ferox greets her sister, allowing a small tilt of her lips for comfort’s sake. “What have you learned?”

“The dragon has indeed, risen.” Taramo lifts her hand and places it on Ferox’s shoulder. She smiles, her tone giddy and youthful. “Do you know what this means, sister?”

Ferox turns back to the castle and runs her bottom teeth over her top lip, dragging the sharp points across plump skin. “It has begun.”

Taramo sways her arms through the lava and swims to Ferox’s side. “What has?”

“The beginning of the end,” Ferox whispers.

Eyes wide, fear grips Taramo chest. “You think so?”

“I do. I’ve heard the rumors. A third birth – to pull a soul from the void – is a feat none have yet to attain. Corbin is close, Taramo, so close to accomplishing the impossible, and with it, he will become invincible. The rebirth of the dragon will matter not.”

Taramo swallows, nervous. She looks at the Domus Timore, listening to the inhuman cries filled with anguish. “Corbin’s enemies will never know how powerful he is, will they? Not until they’re all dead.”

Ferox sighs and crosses her slender arms over chest. “No, they won’t. And we will never be free.”

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