Lîf the Thief – Flash Fiction
I gave myself 30 minutes to write this on a lunch break. No edits, no pre-planned story, just sitting down with my laptop and one of my D&D characters, dropping them into a situation and seeing where it goes as I type. I hope you enjoy!
The burning sphere plowed through the canopy of the forest, smashing into the ground and exploding into a million burning embers. Small fires burst into existence where the flaming shrapnel landed.
Lîf Faewood leapt over one of these fires, his left hand holding his dark green cap in place while is right gripped his longbow as he landed and rolled.
“Seriously!?” he shouted back over his shoulder as he rose and continued running. “This is a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?”
A half dozen spear-wielding guardsmen burst through the underbrush, three of them stopping to loose their crossbows in Lîf’s direction. Two went wide, but the third clanged off the shield that the fleeing elf wore on his back, the sound echoed through the trees.
Lîf ducked under a low branch, then clambered onto a narrow dirt road weaving through the trees. He could see several other guards on horseback charging along the road to his right, so he darted to the left and onto a stone bridge that spanned a deep gorge.
The mounted guards caught up to the panting elf just as he reached the mid-point of the bridge and climbed onto the edge of the impressive stone structure.
“Stop!” a commanding voice boomed, and all of the guards halted, their crossbows drawn and aimed squarely at the Lîf, who quickly reached into the pouch at his side and withdrew a fist-sized blue gem then held it in his outstretch arm, over the hundred-foot drop to the raging river below.
“You wouldn’t dare.” The voice said, emanating from a human man as he approached upon his horse. He was elderly and rotund, with thin hair and pale skin. His exquisite robes dangled on either side of the horse, and the considerable amount of opulent jewelry had to be worth more than most towns.
“Oh, yeah?” Lîf replied. “What makes you so sure?”
It was a this time that the guards on foot finally caught up, raising their own crossbows.
“You worked so hard to get it,” the old man said, “and if you drop it, you’ll be dead before it falls halfway to the river.”
Lîf looked at the assorted faces in front of him, then chuckled at the old man. “You’re right, my Lord. It was a lot of work.” He then kissed the gem and dropped it back into the pouch as he leapt off the bridge. The collected guards gasped and rushed to the edge, peering over the low wall at the rapidly shrinking figure of the elf below.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the elf was gone. No splash or other sign of the thief, just empty air.
The nobleman scowled and shouted angrily, “Find him!”
“Yes, Lord Kath!” they shouted in unison and moments later he was alone on the bridge, seething as the guards began scouring the nearby forest.