A short while ago, Ruby8 provided me with a writing prompt.She was kind enough to allow me to simply write what showed up in my head, all based on the opening italicized sentences you’ll see at the beginning of the story.
Without further ado, I give you, ‘Crimson Dragonfly:
A short story by K’lee L. based on a prompt by Ruby8
Vivid blood in the streets, this beautiful imperial city beats its fragile wings toward redemption. Will she survive this revolution that taints her dragonfly wings crimson?
“Lady N’dala, you cannot stay here. If Lord Chindrat, or any of his warriors were to find you in the Dream Palace-
“I do not fear Chindrat, his hell hounds, or any of the others seeking to eradicate my family’s legacy in Minnshassa. He has my mother, father, and young brother under house arrest, but trust me, he will not harm them or me.”
“Aya, Lady. He will not harm them so long as you are alive and the Crimson Dragonfly remains hidden. If you by some unusual circumstance do locate it, will we then leave the city and seek refuge with your sister, Lady Yashome in Tigamondra?”
“Zindour, you know me better than that. This ends when Lord Chindrat stands before the Imperial Minnshassa Magestraar, ready to answer for his crimes against our holy city.”
“But Lady,” cried Zindour, stalking back and forth in the circular, plant-filled Khanessar Gardens of the uppermost level of the palace. “You know as well as I Lord Chindrat will never confess. His reasons for invading Minnshassa are as illogical as any of his other attempted coups. Blood paints the streets not ten yagari from the palace. We cannot risk-
“You sound like Shirabi now,” said N’dala with a smile. Casually she approached her top advisor, laying a delicate, long- fingered hand on his tight shoulder. “We wait for Chindrat here in the garden. This is the advice my sister Yashome offered some three months ago. She foresaw the events we now see manifesting in Minnshaasa. I had faith in her words then, I remain faithful to them now.”
“N’dala,” said Zindour, turning to look into the eyes of the young girl he’d watched over since she learned to walk. “Your sister is gifted. There is no one in the kingdom who would contest the fact, but she cannot see all. Chindrat is a brutal madman, unable and unwilling to see beyond his lust for conquest and power.”
“Zindour, you do not need to believe in Yashome’s gifts as completely as I do, but do you believe what the ancient texts decree for the one who comes to possess the Crimson Dragonfly?”
“Aya, Lady. I do believe the words of the holy text, but-”
“Then if you believe,” whispered N’dala, again placing her hands on his still tight shoulders. “Please continue to do so. Yashome’s prediction shall come to pass and it shall come to pass within the hour.”
“Lady N’dala, please forgive the intrusion. Lord Chindrat has entered the palace with a contingent of warriors. H-He is on his way here to the garden-
“Thank you, Miallah. Allow no one to impede his progress. You see, Zindour? As Yashome predicted, in the hour of the Panther Queen, he who seeks to rule the world shall enter the Khanessar-
“Lady N’dala, you grow more beautiful each time I see you.”
“And you, Lord Chindrat can save your flattery for a lady who gives a damn.”
“The city of Minnshassa belongs to me. All members of your family are under house arrest save the Seeress Yashome, your sister, and you of course.”
“Tell me, Chindrat, what makes you think the holy city of Minnshassa is yours?”
Lord Chindrat, a giant of a man clothed in the crimson glass armor of his tribe, the Feramani Vek, raised his gloved hands and clapped three times.
“These hundred warriors you now see behind me and your fallen would- be- warriors out there in the streets represent the main component of my conquest. Did your sister not warn you of this outcome?”
N’dala laughed a laugh rich and deep. Reaching above her head, she gracefully lowered a sheshemat flower from a hanging vine. After a prolonged inhalation, she released it, allowing the bloom to return to its previous position.
“Yashome advised me months ago of this moment as you are well aware. She pinpointed your arrival in Minnshassa and here in the gardens. Accurately she spoke of bloodshed and betrayals; of insanity and imprisonment,” smiled N’dala as she reached into the folds of her dark silver robes.
“She also spoke of one other thing, Chindrat. Do you care to guess to what I refer?”
“No,” Lord Chindrat wailed, stumbling backward into the arms of his second-in-command, Lord Zekima. Chindrat’s one hundred warriors slowly began echoing his fears, their agitated whispering echoing about the garden enclosure.
“I- I don’t believe it,” said Zindour as he and all present in the garden that morning watched N’dala raise a sparkling clear dragonfly relic high into the air.
“Believe it, Zindour for it is exactly as my sister foretold. Lord Chindrat’s tribe, the Feramani Vek maintained power due to their crimson glass armor. Please note the current hue of Lord Chindrat and his men’s armor and that of the now properly named Crimson Dragonfly.”
The End (?)
K’lee L. © 2015