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Wednesday, August 10, 2011

7 virtues: Diligence


“Your creed was for naught, the gods are dead.”

The boy stared up into the black maw, row upon row of sharp white teeth, in the center a forked tongue withed.

“They will save me.”

“They are dead, boy! Pledge allegiance to me or die.”

Sweat ran down the boy’s brow as he concentrated on his silent plea: Please, help me!

“Dead, dead, dead,” the dragon chanted as it began circling him.

He continued praying, despite the rising temperature. He could imagine flames dancing around him but, as he opened his eyes, he saw ashes where the dragon had been.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Tuesday Tale Challenge on Glitterlady's blog

Read the other stories here.

Cold gnawed her hand, yet she picked up the brittle flower from the snow. It was dead, as she should be. Envy surged through her; she crushed the wilted flower inside her fist. Her life had been an average one: she’d married, had children, then died calmly.

It was what came after the death that had frightened her; the realization that she was leaving her loved ones behind and stepping into a new plane of existence. Her feelings had been lugubrious, a clump of sorrow and fear lodged in her heart.

She should have been afraid of the offer of immortality instead.

7 virtues: Charity

The kind lord had no friends at this table. Many would benefit from his untimely death; some would draw only pleasure from it. She looked at their faces, but none would meet her gaze. Suddenly she knew why.

She reached for her lord’s cup and drank deeply. The sharp taste of poison danced on her tongue, before flowing down her throat.

She smiled feebly at the shocked faces of the lord’s enemies. Tears ran down the lord’s face as he realized what she had done.

Her sacrifice had not gone in vain; her brother the lord would live another day.

Monday, August 8, 2011

7 virtues: Temperance


“Bring the thief before me!”

The guards dragged the man before him.

“Mercy, High Judge!” the accused pleaded.

He knew that face. Before him was the boy who’d bullied him as a child. Who’d pushed his face into the mud, kicked him in the stomach and worse. How ironic that now he was at his mercy. As High Judge, he was the one who decided. The evidence spoke of innocence, but…

It would feel good to lop off his hand.

No, I would be no better than him.

“The evidence shows another committed the crime. Free him.”