This week's prompt from Write on Edge included the picture below. I decided to carry on the Steve Adderson story, to see where it goes. I would be grateful if you feel able to comment and let me know if it stands alone. It is drawing from a world background I am exploring in other places, but I think it's unfair to write something that assumes prior knowledge and don't want to cheat. Actually, I'm really grateful if you comment at all.
Image from Unsplash
cold leeching out of the picture burned Steve's hands. "I thought deserts were hot." he
said, putting the picture down and rubbing his hands together.
I was at Acre I found the heat of the day and the cold of the night difficult
contrasts." Lord Marius looked thoughtfully at the picture. "You could refuse this request, you
know. Taking a package from one faerie
lord to another has its risks."
carefully wrapped the picture in its layers of silk. "Do I understand this correctly. Lord Ragnar in York is gifting this picture
to Lord Justinian in Rochester. Lord
Justinian will not be sending anything in return."
Marius seemed lost in his memories as he gazed at the silk wrapped
picture. "It is such a remarkable
picture, made many centuries before I went to Jerusalem." He returned to
the present. "Lord Justinian is
having problems with a salamander which the picture will solve and Lord Ragnar
is in a weak position at the moment. He
will rely on magical aid from Lord Justinian before long, I am sure. How is Elaine?"
had wanted to avoid this part of the conversation. "She's fine."
you are still not married?"
didn't think that a proposal in a magical land counted." Steve held the
picture lightly in his hands. Even the
silk wrappings were icy. "She
thought I had just got carried away. She
says we need to wait a bit."
she performing wifely duties?" Lord Marius asked with helpful innocence.
can't one of the elfen take this package?" Steve changed the subject.
and paranoia." Lord Marius waved a hand.
"A werewolf will give you the letter from Lord Ragnar to accompany
the gift. You will meet him in the tea
shop on Micklegate, near the bridge, on Monday at 11am sharp. Here is an image of him so that you are not mistaken. Another werewolf will collect the package in
Rochester Cathedral tea rooms, once you have confirmed you have arrived. Their image is here."
nodded. Werewolves were usually
trustworthy in this situation.
"It's not a bad journey.
It's motorway all the way."
Ragnar is not popular." Lord Marius warned. "He is only sending this treasure under
great need. You are at risk of
great is the risk?" The cold stung Steve's fingers as they clenched on the
not take unnecessary risks." Lord Marius said carefully. "Be careful where you pause your
journey, and be particularly careful of strange weather."
taken precautions." Steve shoved
his hands into his pockets to try and warm them.
know I can no longer approach your car." Lord Marius shrugged then changed
the subject back. "How do you
propose to make Elaine wed you?"
Steve concentrated on sliding the picture into its
thick, insulated bag. "I don't
know." He carefully buttoned the cover.
"But it will be without elfen help, no matter how well meant. I'm already in enough trouble."
Once again I am taking the Trifecta Challenge to write between 33 and 333 words on the prompt '3: to change by artful or unfair means so as to serve one's purpose : to doctor'
waved the letter at his wife. "It's
the valuation." He ripped it open. Rupert watched carefully.
can't be thinking of selling it." Alison said. "It's been in your family for generations." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And you know painting is haunted.
Look what happened last time it was sent for cleaning." Rupert nodded. At least someone else was paying attention.
sort of accidents are normal for a house of this age." Kent looked
uneasily over his shoulder. "And we
have to face reality. We are in a Grade
I listed English Stately Home with a leaking roof. We can't just get any old tiles from the
local builder's yard and get the cheapest quote plus scaffolding. Did you see how much the only firm I could
track down wanted? We need the
you want to sell it?" Alison
asked as Kent pulled the letter out of it's rich, cream envelope.
shrugged. "No, I don't. It's part of the place, I was fascinated by
the old man in the picture as a child.
But sentiment won't patch the roof." He absently straightened out the letter. "I wish we didn't have to." He straightened his shoulders. "And if I'm not getting a good enough
offer, I'm keeping it. There are grants,
stuck his head round the door.
"It's Soames about his business proposition. He's in the study, sir."
waited until Kent and Alison had left the room and inspected the letter. He concentrated. Kent would certainly sell for £350,000 but
while the figure was flattering, he could not let the portrait go. It took some work to manipulate it but by the time Kent got back the offer was £35,000, take it or leave it. The old ghost knew that Kent would never
settle for that. The portrait would be
safe for now. Rupert tapped his ghostly
finger on the polished mantle. Now how
could he help with this business idea?
A very kind friend sent me the link. A construction project in Iceland is being delayed because the local population fear that the road would cut through the local elf population. People are standing in front of the machinery and it's gone to Iceland's Supreme Court.
I am comforted that the elves go to church, as apparently there is a concern that an elf church will be affected by the development. The link is here.
I feel like my fiction is being left behind by the real world.