This piece was something I challenged myself to do. On our YouTube channel, I have played some more medieval style arcade games, so I took inspiration from them. Setting a word limit of 500, I wanted to see if I could comprise an intense action scene into a small space. Including dialogue that wouldn't take away the meaning of the story was the most difficult part. I pictured a stereotypical adventure for a warrior on a mission to defeat some opponent, but what would be said had to match the story line from before this scene takes place. Then I had to construct how to form a scene and keep that story line moving to what happens next. This embodies how I envision flash fiction pieces sometimes, a snapshot of a larger movie. In this particular moment in time, I had the 'hero' have a mission that was slightly different than what he was charged with doing. The ending comes with the questioning of his motives. Did he do it for his own gain? Or is it something out necessity? I won't play spoiler, wanting you to come to your own conclusions, but ask yourself what you would do in the same position.
The Author, Chandler
Sword to Heart
Algrand Shineer, grand champion of the Kingdom of Herscha, hero of the people, approached the darkened throne room. Torches lighted the place on each side, giving the aura of a heavy atmosphere. Hand on sword, shield to the ready, Algrand stepped with caution, vision sweeping left and right. His target, his bane, was Olric the Dark, merciless leader of his dark legion of soldiers. His reign of terror had ravaged the lands from the East to the deep South, where he made is keep. Slowly the armies had marched and brought ruin to many a village and kingdom. Many months he had searched, followed, and battled his way to this very moment in time. With nothing but determination to not leave without victory, Algrand was ready to spring at any second. Where was this coward?
“Hiding in the shadows?” he shouted. Only his own voice echoed back. The throne to which Olric retained his powers lie in front of the head of a fallen dragon. A symbol of his power. Power that was now at an end.
“No hero. I am not,” a voice winded through the darkness, “NOW YOU MEET YOUR DOOOOOOOOOM!” A flash and a blast filled the room. Algrand raised his enchanted shield and deflected a blow from a fireball. The dark king stood at his throne, dressed in the misted armor of his many spoils. Two great pronged horns, matching the throne rose from his helm. Algrand charged, swinging his great sword. Steel met steel as the two locked into combat.
“Do you think you can come to MY castle and defeat ME?”
Algrand smirked. “Yes, because only I have the means to do so,” he raised his sword high, “with the Sword of Cirra I can vanquish your powers!”
“Gaaaaahhhh. Never! You die!” For ages it seemed, the two matched wits, dodging and weaving, swinging and striking.
“What will your beloved princess think? When you fail?” Olric laughed, launching a fireball.
“She will think I’m hers forevermore, since I will not fail,” Algrand said raising his shield.
“Hopeless. My powers extend from coast to coast, empires have crumbled before me!”
Algrand dodged the Dark Kings sword and rolled to meet his side, “Yes, but you’re not a god, just…” he stabbed his sword into the side of the dark lord. “…a man with magic tricks.”
Olric screamed in pain, the Sword of Cirra burned into his flesh. Toppling he tried to use his powers, but failed, the enchanted sword causing too much pain.
Algrand now stood above him, breathing heavily.
Olric looked up, “What now? You can’t kill me. You must take me to your king.”
Algrand walked around him, “Yes, so you can face justice for your crimes, but here that is not an option.”
Olric growled, “Fool. You are mortal, relying on enchanted armor. You’re powerless!”
"As is my kingdom.”
“Then what-gahh!” Olric felt steel plunged into his heart.
“Now my power is complete,” Algrand said, on his new throne.