After days of ceaseless chanting, all the magi have accomplished is this oppressive canopy of rumbling clouds.
Below us, dark legions spread across the valley.
On our side, one hundred remain of the thousand that saw the first dawn of battle.
The chanting paused.
A child now stands among the quarreling magi. Unbidden, he steps forward and lifts a hand over the abyss.
Then, through the clouds, a shimmer.
A silver dragon swoops low among black flags and the spreading tidal roar of terror.
They flee; disperse like an ant colony disturbed.
The dragon soars and disappears and, with it, the child.
Through a busy week, I managed to scribble these hundred words for your amusement. I actually wrote this on a plane on my way to Brussels. I am in Brussels now; all my nails miraculously unbitten (I am terrified of flying vouscomprenez, but writing helped and I recommend it).
Since I will be visiting three countries in two days, I decided to economise my time. Fate has it that that apart from this very inspiring picture by Rochelle, Ms Newton’s challenge for the week is to write a 100 word story; can the stars shine any brighter?