Micro Fiction

Bryan and David responded to my fear, each becoming increasingly aggressive.

The calificar drew his sword in response, and he tried to steal my magic.

I would not let him.

Not this time.

I was no longer a helpless child.

And they had made me.

I stepped out onto the porch, shielded by Bryan and David.

“There is no hope here,” I said. “Just regret. Leave before it finds you.”

The woman who felt like nothing frowned. “I am searching for a woman known as Hope from her records.”

“That’s her,” a man beside the woman who felt like nothing said.

I stepped back.

He was a calificar.

“I am searching for Hope,” a female voice called out.

I didn’t recognize her accent. And she most certainly wasn’t from the calificars.

She didn’t feel like one of them. She didn’t feel like anything at all.

And that was even more terrifying.

I sent Bryan and David to intercept them.

Perhaps my “brothers” could avoid bloodshed.

Seeing them in their armor with their sword and shield drawn tended to send most away.

I didn’t want to kill, but I wouldn’t go back.

I would not go back.

I would die before I would let them take me.

And I would take as many people with me as I could.

My final payment for all they had done.

I could sense their fear.

They should be afraid.

I knew what they wanted, and I wouldn’t give it to them.