Jens Morrison, Part Two

Response to Writing Prompt Forty-One: It’s days like this, with snow blanketing roof tops and threads of smoke slipping out of chimneys, that I remember why I left this godforsaken place.

“The humans moved into an area they were unprepared for. Our lands. It is suitable for us, not their weak kind. But they bring fire, and furs, and force themselves upon our land. They’re terrible hunters, but they make up for it in swarms. They drive out our prey and we have to move from our ancestral lands. That is why I left. Why ‘we’ left.

“But no more. I return today to drive their kind from this land once and for all. We Winter Elfs, sons and daughters of Skadi, will have our lands back, and no man shall stand against our wrath. Athelda stands with us today and Nyk has declared our cause shall be victorious in the end.
We are righteous hunters and this plague of vermin have become our quarry. Let none escape. Let none return.” – Anonymous
This speech was heard by the first march of Skadi in the dead of winter while preparing an attack that would wipe humanity completely off the tundras of the north.
Human historians say they were primarily victorious because of their timing and the low population of human settlers. Winter Elf Lore Masters recount a different story, claiming the fight was devastating for both sides, but with the will of the gods on their side, they came out victorious in the end.
While human historians cannot deny the longevity of the Winter Elf population, they do occasionally call into question their capacity for accurate memories.

Response to Writing Prompt Thirty One: Her hands, hidden inside gloves, tucked away from the world, were scarred from hours beneath flames.

They had called her a fool, mocked her for her craft. Yet, who but she had defended them when the Inquisition came to town? Who but she was capable of such a feat? Mastering the flames of the Mage was difficult, and cost her dearly, but it was a necessary step on her path. On step closer to eradication of the Holy Church.

This was not a goal that her village shared, of course. Most of them were devout. And many more would have run her out of town all together long ago, were she not the daughter of their lauded leader. So in a way, she supposed she had brought the Inquisition down on them in the first place.   But still, a fool she was not. And a witch would only be her title for so much longer. None she had met could stand before her walls of flame, and she doubted the Church had any among them that would even attempt to best her, after seeing a demonstration of her raw power.  

Yes, she was mighty, and they were weak. She was in the right, for might makes right, as they taught her.   An unexpected noise distracted her from her reverie.  

“Samantha? Is that you? Woodlum? Anyone?” she called to the void. She had sent the ‘help’ home for the night, hours ago. Nobody should be in her private manor. Yet there it was again, a sound out of place.  

She moved towards it, a ball of flame in her hand.  

“Do those who serve the light, hide in shadows?” she laughed uneasily to herself. Surely they did not think an assassination would be successful. Her power was supreme. They should be worshiping her as their new goddess. Yes, when she claimed victory, that’s exactly what she would do.  

Again, a rattling in the distance. She smirked. Just the wind. Surely they wouldn’t be so loud in their attempts to come in through the window.  

As she thought, the window was barred shut from the inside. No way they had come in. The rattling was there again. Just the wind.  

As she returned to her chambers, she noticed nothing out of place. She was more than a little relieved, having still believed an enemy to be lurking in the shadows. As she sat down and opened her book, she came to another realization. She had been wrong. There was a note, addressed to her. It was in her book, on the page she’d left open.  

Turn yourself in. The University is still open to you. Should you take the life of even a single man more however, this will not be the case. This was such a simple thing, imagine if I had meant ill.  

Signed, Inquisitor Rodrick

The fire in her eyes immediately went out. Her skin turned immediately pale, and she realized she had greatly overestimated herself. Or that she had underestimated the Inquisition. Either way, she could not stay here any longer.  

She left that night, and told not soul. Her father missed her greatly, and the town was sent to search for her, but they did not find her. She also did not kill another man, Church, or not, for the remainder of her days. How long that was, I leave to your imagination.

Response to Writing Prompt Thirty Five: Following a ladder into a dark cavern is a grand idea until someone removes the ladder.

But that’s what I’d done. And that’s what I knew would happen. “The pay is worth it” I kept telling myself. But I didn’t like the looks of this cavern, and nothing, not even money, could set my nerves straight.

As I followed him, I listened for the telltale signs of the beast we were hunting. Then I remembered I had no idea what it sounded like, and just started listening for anything.

“I still don’t understand why you brought ME on this trip. I don’t know a thing about arak…no…” I whispered.

“Arachnitaur” my host graciously corrected me. “I needed someone with street smarts, and a sly wit.” He replied. 

That certainly didn’t sound like me. But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway. 1 gold coin is enough to buy a small mansion. He offered me 20!

“Do you think we’ll find this ar…thing soon? I’m getting kinda hungry” I said, louder than I should have.

I stopped, grabbed my chest, and screamed. In terror, I tried to turn and run, but couldn’t move. A green energy surrounded me. I was being pulled up and away and slowly turned. On the floor, still writhing in agony…was my body.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a thing. A…one of those. The upper body of a beautiful woman, and the lower body of a giant spider. It smiled at me with sharp venomous fangs.

“You’re not the only hungry one.” she?…it said. 

It then proceeded to wrap my (My?) body up in silk, and seemingly kissed my neck. I felt it. It was a bite. More agony, and then nothing.

“You see, Arachnitaur females are quite powerful magically, but they are very solitary creatures. I have had dealings with this one for quite a while. The promise of village idiots to fuel her magic, and fill her belly, gives me free access to her magical prowess.” my benefactor chimed in.

“But…how do I use my money if I’m dead?” I asked, not fully comprehending my doom.

“Oh don’t worry. We’ll cross the River Styxx, and pull you out from the other world soon enough” he lied.

“Are you done playing with my food?” It asked.

“Quite” was the last thing I heard, before she pursed her lips, and sucked me into oblivion.

A word from Jens

Greetings from Vesevia!

I’m a writer of short stories. I can’t manage anything more than that, but I like most of the short stories I can manage to write. I like Scifi, Fantasy, Mythology, and everything in between.

Everything I write is set in my fictional world, Vesevia. It has magic, technology, various races, gods (that interact with the world on a daily basis), etc. The setting spans a great deal of time, from stone to space.

I usually inject a bit of humor into my writings as well. One of the gods of Vesevia, is Bacon. The god of Bacon. Bacon created the Piglings, cannibalistic pigmen that chase each other, and especially outsiders, with butcher knives.

Also, I had a story featured in a magazine! +TYPEFACE Literary Magazine ran my story “A Girl With No Hiccups” in it’s first issue. See more of Jens’ featured work in the Spotlight!

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Jaymee is the creative director and writing force behind Beaux Cooper Media. She loves to collaborate with other writers and journalists across the genres. Jaymee lives on the beautiful coast of Rhode Island with her cat, Ada, and dog, Bean.

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