Microfiction: Lost temple IV

Shivers and turn on more lights.

Microfiction: Lost temple III

I can’t wait for the next installment, wow!

Ruine_Oybin_bei_Mondschein

The older monk stopped his muttering and raised his head.

“Eagles!” He pointed to the birds, black against the lurid sky, flapping with unhurried wing beats to perch on the crumbling arch of the crossing. “Another omen.”

The acolyte shook his head but the shadows hid the movement, and he dared not openly contradict. The moon hung in the still glowing sky, and by its light he watched more birds wing their way to the ruins. Not eagles. Ravens. And the omen was not a good one. He glanced at the older man’s ecstatic expression and knew that he had not seen the harbingers, or had not wanted to see.

“Now, to the altar,” the old man said, almost to himself and strode towards the apse. The acolyte wondered why the shadows seemed so dense, why he could not make out the shape of the altar. Perhaps it had been…

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Microfiction: Lost temple II

Jane Dougherty Writes

Ruine_Oybin_bei_Mondschein

“At last,” the older monk murmured. “To have found it after so many years. And on this night of all nights.”

The acolyte gazed through the tall lancet windows, still full of light, though they seemed to let none fall into the building. Through a window of a side chapel, glassless now and empty, the moon appeared, red and bloody. The acolyte licked dry lips and tried to convince himself that this was a good omen, but his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the deep shadows that gathered where the twilight had receded. He wished that they had arrived in daylight.

The two monks stood side-by-side beneath a red sky slowly inking over with darkness, where once had arched the great vault of the nave. The older man raised his eyes and let his gaze roam among the delicate tracery of the windows, the columns and the buttresses. The acolyte…

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Microfiction: Lost temple I

This reads like the beginning to a great story.

Jane Dougherty Writes

I found this painting while I was looking for something completely different and started to write a story round it. I shall post it in dollops of 200 words because I can see it might be a long one.

They reached the place at the end of the ninth day despite the wall of resistance from the common people. Sullen looks welcomed them when they sought lodgings for the night and turned backs when they asked: how far, which way? But they persevered. It was their holy place, after all, torn from the grasp of barbarians at a terrible price.

On the evening of the ninth day they found it. Their horses refused to enter the trees, so they left them tethered in the lush grass. The beasts stood close together and watched them go, their ears twitching nervously.

A tangle of briar and thorny vegetation surrounded the site, as…

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