The Pits of Perfidy

Another story written in response to L.C. Schäfer's proposal to spend 2024 choosing to write a microfiction story every day, making 366 stories for every day of this lovely leap year. You can check her original story out here:

Prompt number eleven:

4th (World Braille Day) A story in the first person where your main character cannot see.

I know. It's the 11th but I wrote this for the 4th and then the pedant in me reread the prompt and realised that it wasn't in the first person. But I'd already written it. So, I banked it and here it is for Jan 11th.

***

"You are going to have to leave me behind."

"No!" Artura could not believe what she was hearing. The old woman had been a stalwart of their quest and she could not imagine continuing without her.

"She's right."

Muferd had the decency to shake his head in shame at the admission but he knew that they could not pass the Pits of Perfidy with someone who could not see. They were treacherous with sight and it would take every bit of individual awareness and strength to navigate them.

"No!" Artura shouted again and then, calmly but with determination, "No."

The old woman shrugged and directing her useless eyes at Artura declared, "It is my decision to make. I will not come."

Artura began pacing while Muferd moved away and busied himself elsewhere. Confrontations between women made him squirm. As a brother of three sisters, he was well aware of how badly this could go.

"There has to be a way to get you across." Artura stated. It always made her feel better to move when thinking. She would not leave the old woman behind despite her protestations. Taking an arrow from her quiver, she ran the feathers across her lips as she contemplated the problem. The smoothness of the filaments always soothed.

The old woman sensed the preoccupation of the two. She would not be coerced into this, despite Artura's best intentions. She would use force before she was taken. It was time to disappear. Artura had the talisman; Muferd would protect her. She suppressed a shudder. It was the Pits that had deprived her of her sight and she had no eagerness to reenter them again. Artura in her youth and inexperience had no idea of the trial ahead and the old woman had no desire to witness it. Besides, she had fulfilled the role required of her.

It was time to call Merlin. She rubbed the stone in her pocket and felt the ancient magic as it seeped into her human form. As she dissipated into mist, she had two regrets: one that she hadn't wished them luck and two, that the last sound she heard before leaving was Artura's anguished cry of desperation.

***

366 words

Those of you who have read my writings before will have noticed the appearance of Merlin. I have provided links to these stories at the end or at least I would have if Vocal would allow me to access them. And my submitted. But it would appear that that is just not possible and may not be for days yet, it having been days already. He's not in this particular story but he does get a mention and I like the idea of him very much: this mythical magician and change-bringer or king-maker or whatever he is. He appeals to me.

I wish that I had the time to write a novel but writing these microfictions has shown me that my mind likes to flit about. Could it settle on one thing? I like the versatility that microfiction brings, the different snapshots it provides.

I've got another 354 days to find out!

For the list of prompts that L.C. has provided for January to get you moving, if you want to partake, go to the link below. It also provides links to everybody else who has joined in the challenge:

Thanks for stopping by. If you've read this story, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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