Ugh. Days late! To my defense, the weather is nice outside, and my bow and arrows begged me to shoot. :3 *excuses*

A-Z April Fantasy Flash Fiction, part 12. Character: Arancia.


New life is beautiful. The wonder, gratitude, and pure joy in the eyes of a newborn child are a miracle to behold. I remembered the birth of my younger brother; the entire family had been so touched that we cried and smiled at the same time, standing around my mother and this precious little gift.

A rebirth feels very much the same, if not even more powerful. To be torn from death’s dark claws, and be guided back to a new, stronger than human body, is the epitome of salvation, the greatest treasure that mankind through the ages always seeks.

It is no wonder then that the slain guards of Escaton castle were all beyond grateful for my touch. At first I had been hesitant; It had been very long ago since I had last done it, and I did not remember the details. As we arrived, my doubts flew away at once. These men had been prematurely robbed of their life by the most vile creatures mankind knew. The determination to undo this grave mistake of fate was all I needed, and so the scene of a tragedy transformed into one of a miracle.

Escaton, the Tower of Rocks, became known as the Tower of New Life, Canaeton. Legande was put in charge of the troops there, whose number grew by the day. Each new man, without exception, had been murdered in cold blood by those southern fiends. Each new man swore to use their newly aquied strength, and their miraculous second chance, to wipe out that scourge that plagued us once more. The immortal people of Súthenaira were the cause of most of the suffering in the known world, wise men had agreed; they spread nothing but war and violence, harboured monsters, and vehemently sabotaged any and all attempts at building a better world. They were no more than filth, a disease of the world that desperately called for healing.

We soon found out that even my miracle touch could not completely undo all the damage they caused; the body had to be intact, and the heart undamaged, and the death no more than a few days past, in order for the resurrection to happen. This was an unfortunate weakness, and it was agreed at once that it was to be kept completely secret, and nobody was to speak of it from now on, to anyone. The ‘Nairans, if they found out, would immediately react by making sure all the victims would be stabbed through the heart, or beheaded.

So life went on in the castle that now became the pinnacle of our people’s hope. We prepared for an offensive that would turn the tide at the front and lush our enemy further into retreat on their own mainland. Eventually, we hoped to take their capital, and remove their king. Of course, none of this directly concerned me. My mission was the miracle touch of Canaeton, the promise of returned life.


Author: nairama

writer, reader, archer, blogger at The Notorious Southernland

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