So, I’ve just discovered the very fabulous D Wallace Peach’s Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt – an opportunity for spec fic writers to get their groove on and have their stories reblogged on Diana’s website, Myths of the Mirror. HOW HAVE I MISSED THIS UNTIL NOW??!
Why does this excite me so much? Well, not only is spec fic my jam, Diana’s website is the stuff of magic and myth. She’s a wonderful and prolific author, and about the nicest lady you could come across. So, pop over, say g’day and join in the writing prompt fun.
Of Stone and Ice
Professor James O’Neil never dreamed he’d be hiking across an arctic terrain in his seventies; the last, great hope of the world on his shoulders. Then again, O’Neil never dreamed he’d be alive to see the sweeping prairies and fields of Kansas turned into an ice-covered apocalypse. Yet the fact remained the same – instead of sitting by his radiator in his New York apartment, sipping coffee and reading the latest edition of Scientific Journal, he was knee deep in ice and snow, likely headed to his doom.
The team around him were flagging in the blistering cold and arctic wind. They were not adventurers or outdoorsmen. They weren’t even soldiers, yet they gripped their oily, black machine guns with sure hands. O’Neil himself felt the heavy weight of the carbine rifle strapped to his bent back. His former students might have laughed to see their professor so armed; they might have guffawed about his ability to hit the side of a barn.
O’Neil could have told them differently. He’d put down enough white skins to know how to use the dangerous weapon.
O’Neil raised his head and peered through the stinging wind. He frowned as he saw the massive statue in the distance. It was one of theirs.
Most structures made by human hands hadn’t survived the white frost. Here in the prairie lands, windmills crumbled in the extreme cold, farmhouses were obliterated by the three hundred mile an hour wind gusts that ravaged the land. The only structures that could survive the white frost were immense things made of stone… like the statue before him.
As the small group trekked ever closer, O’Neil saw it was carved in their image. A grim frown touched his brow, obscured by the layers of clothing covering his face and neck.
When the first dreadnaught had arrived from the Interstellar Strait, bearing its strange, pale crew, humanity had been wary. They looked like something straight out of Norse mythology with their seven-foot height and rippling physiques. Wariness soon gave way to captivation as the newcomers demonstrated the magic they commanded. Real magic.
Only a few learned folk held onto their reservations and fewer still made the same connection O’Neil did. These interstellar wanderers could only be the Svartálfar; the Dark Elves of Norse mythology.
But by then, it was too late, and O’Neil’s voice was too small. All he could do was flee and hide as the Svartálfar weaved their magic and began the process of enslaving the earth. As their hoarfrost crept across the land, their blood-thirsty warriors descended from the Strait in droves. Humanity was no match for their might and magic.
O’Neil watched and waited and researched… and finally, he learned of a chance. The slimmest chance, against almost insurmountable odds, to win back the earth and drive the Svartálfar out for good. And so, even with aching bones and angina, O’Neil had risen from his hiding place, found the few survivors who’d had the sense to go to ground, and begun the last quest. Humanity’s salvation lay in his hands.
As the weary group trod past the massive stone statue, O’Neil paused and drew breath. His chest ached, his feet were numb and he was exhausted to dropping point. But as he eyed the statue of the Svartálfar demi-God, O’Neil felt strength and resolve flood into him.
He shrugged into his scarf, turned his back on the statue, and strode toward destiny.
Nicely done, Jessica!
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Thanks Priscilla!
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Nice story and a nice resource.
Thanks for the pointer, and for sharing your writing.
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Thanks for reading 🤗
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Great story, Jessica. I love it that the one who will save the Earth is an old guy with angina. Wonderful character and world-building, and a cliff-hanger. Thanks so much for taking up the prompt. I’ll cue up for a reblog. 🙂
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I work (day job) as a manager of a Retirement Village. Every single day I’m reminded of how much older people have to offer. I’ve noticed they keep cropping up in my writing now 😉
Loved this prompt – keep them coming!
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First of every month. The February one is wintery, but very different. And thanks for the lovely intro. That was kind of you. Happy Writing!
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You’ve always got the best endings. Nicely done.
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Thanks Staci 🤗 of course, the irony is it’s the ending in Guns that’s giving me the most grief right now!
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I don’t mean to laugh, but that is kind of funny. Hoping you get it sorted out soon.
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I know right? Sigh. I’ll get there.
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Go O’Neil!
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Hell yeah! I’ve learnt (through long exposure and experience) never discount your elders!
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So true.
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Very good story, I’m hooked. I want to read what happens next.
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Thanks my friend 🤗
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Oh, Jessica, this is amazing! I’d like to see you develop this idea further.
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Thanks Traci 🤗
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Reblogged this on Myths of the Mirror and commented:
Will the old guy save the world? A cliffhanger from Jessica
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Hahah, thanks Diana and love the tag line!
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A great story, Jess. I was delighted to share. 🙂
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A lovely story, Jessica. You could definitely make this into something more.
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Thank you! 🤗
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I love how O’Neil is still going for it, despite all the odds! Nice interpretation.
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Thank you 😊
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Absolutely fabulous!
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Aw thanks! 😊
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This was amazing. So well told!! Thank you!
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Thank you for reading 🤗
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Thanks lovely!
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It was fun to read your captivating descriptions. Thanks for sharing! 🙂
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Thanks for reading!
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I think Norse Mythology is having a bit of a revival at the moment, and a very well deserved one! This story is great, the details about his former life give a good accent to the story.
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Thank you 🤗
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