Sunday 7 March 2021

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Soulla Christodoulou - Author

Magical Fantasy Flash Fiction Story by author Soulla Christodoulou

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I wrote this magical fantasy flash fiction story with a view of entering it into a call for submissions by author Tamara Rokicki and her The Otherworld Fantasy Anthology. I have always been fascinated with fairytales and magic but have not written much in this genre… Tamara’s shoutout prompted me to give it a try!

I didn’t submit it in the end… I don’t remember why. Maybe I wasn’t confident in what I had written; it’s very different to what I have chosen to write as a published author. But today, I thought I’d be brave, and dare to put it out there, and share it with you. I hope you enjoy it.

 

She woke with a start, the distant howl cut across the silence of the dead of night, a chill permeated the air of the high ceilinged room. Shadows played, as if chasing ghosts, black, grey, silver, the weak light cutting arcs across the slate floor. The illuminated face of her bedside clock told her it was time.

She slid on her white frilled gown over her crumpled slip and pushed her feet into silver slippers; brand new and nestled between tissue paper sheets, creased. Fumbling in the semi darkness she struck a match, lit her lantern. The fabric of her cloak was silk against her skin and its fur-trimmed hood stroked her cheek like the gentle hand of her mother, but that was long ago, too long ago to truly remember.

She recited the words she had practised over and over, their magic chiming in unison with her mellow voice, echoing across the empty room. The lantern emitted a soft glow, a golden light, giving her a burst of courage as she headed out the door into the forest, still chanting her spell, her personal rex.

Firs and pines loomed above her, their boughs long stretched fingers reaching towards the fragments of inky sky, stars danced, twinkling, sparkling, creating the promise of a supernatural power, of something more than the magic she had ever known. She felt it on her skin, the back of her neck, her eyes shone like nuggets of coal, so black they gleamed white.

A trail of pine needles, soft underfoot, created a guiding path through the thick forest, its darkness beckoning her into the arms of its mystery. Her steps kicked at fallen cones, twigs and jagged stones, as she moved forward, floated almost dream-like; her burnt orange hair fell in wavy layers across her cheeks, across her eyes.

She knew the whispering called her to the inner circle of light, the Wonder Queen’s most trusted enforcers of all things unknown, an acceptance of the unexplained, the unexplored and the manifested, through beautiful thoughts united and sparkling crystals all powerful, potent.

As she approached the boundary she felt a tingle of anticipation, this was her first invitation to join the beautiful group of nymphs, and other world beings, and she was ready for her initiation.

The forest floor shifted, seemed to give way and she was falling, falling, but no sound came from her open mouth. She landed with an awkward thud on a clipped lawn of beautiful emerald grass. It gleamed like diamonds, like precious jewels reflecting nature’s colours, a rainbow of greens; lime, sage, pea, olive.

She stood up, dusted off her petticoats and skirt. She was here. This was now. This was real. The magic had begun.

 

Thank you so much for reading and if you’d like to learn more about my published work and poetry

you can find it all here.

Until next time, Happy Reading, Happy Writing, Happy You.

Soulla xxx

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