#fictionfriday, number 56

Welcome to #fictionfriday. Each Friday, I’m going to dedicate to something that has to do with novels, short stories, or even brief pieces. I may write some history pieces for the world of Tasguliere, pieces that have emerged since the publication of my first book, or create a whole new story. I also could review or speak in depth about some particularly interesting pieces of writing that are out there. Sit back, read, and enjoy.

Today, we continue the journey of Malair.

A flame appeared at the end of the corridor. He could tell, now, that he was in the main corridor of the Great Library. The flame grew bigger and appeared to be floating towards him.

“Hello, sir.” The low voice of Dailen came from behind the fire. “I’m happy to see you feeling better.”

“Dailen,” Malair started. “What are you doing in here all alone? What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, sir. I wish I did. I found all the scholars dead.” Dailen’s voice cracked. “I wanted to see if you were in here. When I checked the apothecary’s shop you were gone.”

“I, I’ve been feeling stronger at least. Come, let’s see if we can find anyone who is alive.” Malair held out his hand and Dailen took it. “Hopefully someone survived this, massacre. We need their help yet to figure out what this language is.”

Dailen held the torch as Malair walked down the corridors. He would stop and take the torch from Dailen to further his range of vision in the darkness. Each time, Dailen would cling to his side, terrified.

Malair followed Dailen’s urgings. Something told him to trust the boy. Dailen would scurry past some doors and linger at others. 

They climbed higher in the tower of the Great Library and the darkness grew with each step. The heaviness grew with each step. The bones underfoot were a constant companion that Malair winced at each time.

They finally came to a floor with a single door. From the other side of the door came the muffled sound of children.

“Do you hear that?” Malair asked. 

“I don’t hear nothin’,” replied Dailen. “Can we go now? I don’ like it here anymore.”

“Stay here a moment.” Malair said. “I just want to check out this door.”

He approached the door and placed his ear to it. There were definitely voices on the other side. Who were they and how had they survived the massacre?

He lifted the latch and let the door swing open.

Torchlight fell on the faces of a dozen children.

“Did you come to rescue us, mister?” A little girl near the door asked. “We heard the bad guys and hid up here.”

“You were a very smart girl. We’ll need to get you all out of the tower here.” Malair turned back to the hallway as the torchlight caught the edge of the girl’s pointed teeth as she grinned. “Dailen, can you come and help? I found some children”

“Coming, Malair,” the boy’s reply came.

That’s it for today’s #fictionfriday! Feel free to leave a comment or your thoughts. Pick up a copy of Plight of the Carnor, J.B. Patricks’ first novel from Amazon in paperback or get the Kindle version and learn even more about Tasguliere!

on visits home and long night drives

#fictionfriday, number 55