Weekend morning writing activity #22

This weekend’s song is called Anthem of the Lonely by Nine Lashes, and as always, this piece of flash fiction is made up on the spot.

On a different note, I know the weekend is coming to an end and I should have done this post this morning, or even last morning, but I’ll try to make up for it with a longer and more exciting piece of writing.

NOTE: If you’re wondering what my excuse is, here you have it. I’m starting my first year at uni tomorrow morning and I’ve kept myself busy with getting used to my new home, to the surrounding area and trying to learn how to cook 🙂

Wish me luck!

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A heart made of stone, callous and bone, fracture and tear it out to let it go. This is the recipe I had to teach myself.

Loss. Abandon. Loneliness. It all brought me here. I am now a capable spellcaster, and here is my will, to stand lonely. The only words I remember are those of an ancient tongue, those that build up the magic within me, those that let it erupt from my flesh and those that harm my opponents and create life where none should exist.

I decided I never want to leave this place. Matter of fact, right now, I see it in a different way, so even if you were to take me on, I’d stand lonely, here in my fragment of the world, isolated and satisfied.

I first discovered this place years ago, when just a child. Back then, it was just a ruin swarming with restless creatures. Rotten dead risen from the muddy soil, mutated insects of all shapes and colours, limping or even crawling larger creatures that would give anything to get a bite of you.

I ran back to society. People thought me crazy, said I made things up. I was, after all, a dreamy child. And a psychopath to their eyes. The explanation is simple: I spoke words in my sleep, unintelligible words, and every time I did that, something bad happened in the city. My family and I were cast out into the woods because of it. Eventually, they abandoned me too, since the problem only got worse with every passing day. Although I was growing aware of the words I spoke at night, I was unable to get a grasp of them and stop myself. Furthermore, my child curiosity brought me to speak then during the day as well. I soon discovered their immediate and delayed effects, their power drain on me and their usefulness for my daily life, now all alone.

For a long while, I thought I’d be practicing to grow strong enough and take my revenge on those who banished me, revenge on my own parents for abandoning me, and I thought that would make me happy. However, by the time I learned to control my unexpected magical powers, I had grown used to the life I had, so I decided to stand lonely and happy. The pain is, after all, what you make it.

I never needed a calm in a storm, or maybe something to scream about with empty lungs. I unleashed my fury on already dead things, and shouted in desperation whenever I felt like it. No real reason, just a strange thing that made me happy. Shouting these ancient words filled my blood with satisfaction.

The day this satisfaction reached its climax was when I rediscovered that ruin from my childhood, now a fully grown up and independent human being. An unusual one, though; one within whose blood flows magic.

I disposed of the roaming and pitiful creatures as easily as one can snap a twig on the forest floor. Then I discovered an underground passage, stairs leading to a tunnel, a tunnel leading to an antechamber, that leading to a grand hall and so on, until I reached a dead end.

I spoke half the spells I knew, the less harmful ones, and tried to get though. It was clear something waited behind the hollow wall.

I tried some more, until the most unexpected thing happened.

A rune lit up on the wall to my left, glowing brightly with a pale blue light. Similarly angular shapes lit up on other walls as I spoke more and more spells, and I tried to remember which word was associated to which rune.

I made it a game of sorts. Speak a word, and if it’s correct, a rune will light up. If you wait for too long, they will extinguish like flames, and the game begins again. To make things more fun, I made myself turn towards the rune I expected to light up. It was a show of blue light that amused even my adult mind.

Caught in this magical game, I didn’t even notice when the wall blocking the path vanished. The way deeper was clear, and I abandoned my newly-found game in favour of some more exploration.

That is where I found what I now call my home, my soul home, and it is here that I expect to come to an end eventually, when my powers leave me, when the world disappears and when all light vanishes.

This is the story of how I decided to stand lonely, but get caught off guard when my social skills are forcefully triggered one day.

This is a story of a spellcaster that is forced to adapt to newer environments and accept unacceptable situations, unless the said spellcaster prefers a more risky change of course.

This is my story.

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In a way, this is my story because I wrote it. Well, my fragment of a non-existent story, fact that makes it a flash fiction.

Sorry if I got carried away a little. I know I didn’t use too much of the song, but I think that what matters most is the fact that it inspired me to write something that could actually be developed later on. I hope you enjoyed it! ^_^