May Prompt Challenge

First the winner’s of last month’s prompt:

There were so many good entries for this and I finally decided to settle on a tie between to entries…

Annie Louise Twitchell

Evan stared at the writing on the wall. Written in something he desperately hoped wasn’t blood, the words echoed the thoughts that constantly rattled around his mind.

You could have saved her.

You could have saved them.

You could have saved him.

But he was too late. He was always too late. And now his father was gone, just like everyone else. Just like his mother. Just like his adopted siblings, his stepmother, his half siblings, his best friend… Everyone was gone.

And he was alone again.




You could have saved him.

The letters appeared slowly crookedly on the wall, as though written by an invisible hand. Faster than usual. Almost accusatory.

I dropped my bent dagger onto the table and spread my hands. “As always, Wally, the question is if I really should have saved him?”

A second as the letters faded away, then new ones took their place.

He’s your friend.

“He’s a blasted idiot is what he is,” I muttered. “A horrible friend.”

Still, the only one you’ve got.

“Oh go pointing that out, why don’t you?”

And you just let him go. Sacrificed him so you could go

“You know, why am I taking friendship advice from a wall in the first place?” I spat. “You can just…”

He’s still alive. Save him and you might have someone other than a wall who can stand the sound of your voice.

I kicked at the table and stormed out of the room so I didn’t have to look at that infernal wall anymore, telling me how to live my life.

One day I’d get that thing painted over.

But right now I had something else to do. A friend to save.

You have 100-250 words to write a short story/scene that goes with this picture. You have until May 31st to submit your scene in the comments below. I’ll announce the winner in June.  Anyone can enter, but keep your entries clean. No swearing, no gore or sensuality. Have fun!


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  1. In my country, the crown can only be won through victory in battle.
    Since the days when Athelwyn Firstking slew the great Ebenwyrm, the heirs of his bloodline have fought a dragon to claim his throne and crown.
    That is, until my own father was slain in combat with the dragon. Then the Council of Three took the scepter of Athelwyn away from my family, claiming that my father’s blood had polluted our line. Had made us weak, and unfit to rule. Not that they ever fought any dragons.
    But I know the truth. I know the truth that my father taught me—that not all the dragons are evil, but that the council controls them through the mystic power of the Aegstan.
    And I know the truth my mother taught me—that my father would not have died if the Council of Three had not poisoned him.
    And so I fought the dragon who the council set before me, throwing their lies of weakness into the rubbish heap. And I split into pieces the aegstycce which controlled it, releasing its mind from the Council’s will, and it realized we were allies against the Council’s tyranny.
    And so with my new ally at my back, I take Athelwyn’s crown in victory.
    And the Council can do naught but watch.

  2. How did things come to this? I thought, dodging another swipe of the dragon’s tail. My yellow cape was in shreds, but the Princess liked yellow – and capes. And I had to impress her. How Princess Serena managed to get her crown stuck on the dragon’s finger-talon thing I didn’t know. The dragon raised it’s right front arm and swiped at me. I twisted to the side and jumped, barley catching the edge of the crown with two fingers. The dragon didn’t seem to like having a human dangling from his paw and started shaking me from side to side. I managed to grab the crown with my other hand. The dragon shook more furiously. The crown slid off and with it, I tumbled to the arena floor. I stood and held the crown over my head. Princess Serena clapped, a dignified smile touching her lips and eyes beaming. The King and Queen glanced at each other and nodded. I held my breath and watched them. The dragon seemed to have lost interest in me since I was no longer attacking him – and also since the guards had released a sheep into the arena to distract him. King Ander cleared his throat and addressed the crowd.
    “For removing the Princess Serena’s crown from the dragon’s talon Sir Oslan will have Serena’s hand in marriage.” He nodded to me and the crowd erupted in cheers. I climbed the rope ladder to the royal dais and Serena leaped into my arms.

  3. He’d entered the arena ready to kill the dragon and claim his inheritance, but when he saw the creature, something had broken in him. Chained by the leg, covered with cuts from a hundred swords, the dragon’s blue-black head hung down, defeat mingled with grim desperation painfully visible in the large golden eyes.

    The young prince gripped his sword tightly, the same pain that had torn through him the first time he found a wounded animal in the palace gardens shredding his heart into small pieces. He couldn’t do it.

    The noise of the crowd sounded dimly around him, cries of confusion mixed with anger. Slowly, he turned to face the royal box, meeting the ice-cold eyes of his father.

    Weak, they said. Pathetic.

    The prince sheathed his sword. Ignoring the gasps that rippled through the crowd, he reached for his crown and took it off, holding it out like a sacrifice.

    “I wish to renounce my claim to the throne.”

    And pandemonium broke out.

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