Finite Fantasy

a collection of short fiction

Daniel R. Marvello

Published by Magic Fur Press
An imprint of Logical Expressions, Inc.
P.O. Box 383, Ponderay, ID 83852-0383, USA

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business organizations, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Daniel R. Marvello

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher.

Digital Edition 1.0 – December 23, 2014

Table of Contents

Cover

Copyright Page

Table of Contents

Foreword

#1 - The Rune

#2 - Sorcerer's Staff

#3 - Final Exam

#4 - Territorial

Novels by Daniel R. Marvello

About the Author

Dedication

Foreword

Like many authors, I’ve written short works as writing exercises and competition entries, as well as to explore story ideas that didn’t develop into a full novel. Most of the content in this anthology is available online somewhere, but web sites come and go, and I thought it would be nice to offer the stories to readers in a single, convenient collection.

The majority of these works were originally written for flash fiction competitions and had to follow specific guidelines. At first I was dubious about the value of such exercises, but I quickly discovered that writing flash was fun. It was strangely satisfying to create a brief, simple story from a random idea. It was also fascinating to see how each of the participating authors dealt with the word count guidelines and prompts.

My plan is to update this collection yearly with new material and offer it as a free bonus to my readers. If you want to know when a new edition is available, sign up for my New Releases email list at www.DanielRMarvello.com/release-notices or follow my blog at www.DanielRMarvello.com.

Thank you for downloading Finite Fantasy. I hope you enjoy the stories.

~ Daniel R. Marvello

The Rune

I wrote The Rune for my first flash fiction competition during Rachel Harrie’s Writer’s Platform-Building Campaign in 2012. The task was to write a 200-word flash fiction story that began with the words “The door swung open.”

To me, the opening words had a sinister implication. For one thing, the phrase was passive: “the door swung open,” rather than “he/she opened the door.” That phrase implied that the door might not have been opened by some person, but rather by some thing. This impression inspired my response to the challenge.

For bonus goals, writers could end the story with “the door swung shut” and/or try to write exactly 200 words. Writing exactly 200 words turned out to be the harder of those two goals, but I managed to achieve them both.

200 words

he door swung open and admitted a cool, moist draft. The light breeze circled the room and ruffled the papers on my desk, which I pinned in place with a slap of my hand. The lantern on my desk flickered, but thankfully did not go out. I didn’t bother turning around because the stench of carrion that accompanied the draft told me exactly who, or should I say what, would be lurking at the threshold.

At that moment, nothing mattered more than the rune on the block of wood in front of me. If I turned around now, I would never finish the rune, and nothing would matter to me ever again.

I bent back to my task, trying to calm the shaking hand that held a razor-sharp carving blade so I could lay the final stroke that would complete the rune. I peeled a thin sliver from the block’s dark surface, revealing the lighter-colored wood underneath.

A deep otherworldly moan rose behind me, and the surge of adrenalin it caused threatened to spoil the stroke. But I finished the rune and spoke its eldritch name. With my utterance, the moan rose to a shriek, and the door swung shut.

Sorcerer's Staff

Sorcerer’s Staff is set in Mundia, the fantasy world of the Vaetra Chronicles. The piece gave me an opportunity to explore an issue that the mundane (non-magical) people of Mundia occasionally face: what happens when you discover that your son or daughter has the ability to work with magic? Sorcerers are generally shunned by the mundane population, so the discovery of magical sensitivity can be disappointing and frightening for the parents and the child.

I wrote Sorcerer’s Staff as an entry in Mysti Parker’s May 2012 Flash Fiction Challenge. The story had to begin with, “I never expected to be in this position so soon, saying goodbye to my son.” It also could not exceed 600 words. My entry didn’t win, but I had fun writing it.

596 words

never expected to be in this position so soon, saying goodbye to my son.

I watched him carefully consider the items arrayed on his bed. The set of leatherworking tools I gave him on his tenth birthday was one of the first things to disappear into the pack. He should be here with me, using those tools in our trade and eventually taking over the business from me. I said as much.

“But, Father, you were the one who took me to the sorcerer sanctuary in Northshore to be tested.”

I hung my head with guilt. He was right, but I'd had no choice. The other village elders had insisted, just as I had insisted when a neighbor's daughter showed signs of being sensitive to magic. Everyone in the village wanted to know if they had a potential sorcerer in their midst. Now I wish we could just ignore it and let the children decide for themselves what path they would take. My son didn't have to become a sorcerer just because he had the ability to channel magic. I said that too.

“That hide's been punched, Father,” he answered, turning one of my favorite sayings against me. “I hate the way everyone treats me now. It's like I have some kind of disease.”

He rolled up the game of Kings and Peasants we had made together in front of the fire during his twelfth winter, and he added it to his pack. I took a deep breath to hold back the sob that threatened to burst from my chest when my memory flashed on the many times we'd played together over the past three years.

My only son pushed the last few items of clothing into his pack, leaving a little room at the top for the food his mother was preparing for him in the kitchen. I stood up from the chair I had been sitting in and told him he could come home any time he wanted.

“That's no longer true, Father, but thank you for saying it.” He stepped over to me and we wrapped our arms around each other. I marveled at how he was nearly my height now and hoped he wouldn't feel the tear that fell on his shoulder.

His little sister sat silently in the corner of the room watching his preparations with wide brown eyes and a rag doll clutched tightly to her chest. When we embraced, she got up and ran over to us, putting her arms around our waists. She was trying to be brave as her brother had asked her to be, so she buried her wet face into my side to muffle her sniffles.

His mother appeared at the doorway to the room as we released each other. Her tear-stained face was a numb mask of grief. When we returned from Northshore two days ago with the news, it had caught her completely unprepared. Our family had no history of sorcery as far as we knew, but that didn't change the reality we faced now.

My son added the package of food to his pack and buckled the top closed. He hugged his mother one last time on his way out, and then the three of us somberly followed him to the front door.

Outside the door, he picked up the hiking stick he'd made for himself last year and gave a final wave as he took his first steps down the path away from his family.

I thought to myself that his walking stick would probably become a sorcerer's staff now.

Final Exam

I wrote Final Exam for a flash fiction contest sponsored by the Magic Appreciation Tour. As the founder of the Magic Appreciation Tour, I wasn’t eligible to win, but I thought it would be fun to participate anyway. The rules of the contest were that the story had to be 500 to 750 words, and it had to begin with “Some days I wish I had never met that woman.”

This piece features Jaylan Forester, the main character of my Vaetra Chronicles trilogy, and Lissy Aragon, a character I introduced in Vaetra Untrained. The scene takes place in the time period between Vaetra Untrained and Vaetra Unleashed.

750 words

ome days I wish I had never met that woman.

I knew Lissy meant well, but tasking me with creating a lycanthropy potion for my alchemy final exam seemed unnecessarily cruel. She knew I had a bad history relating to a lycanthropy potion gone wrong, and I still had misgivings about creating one.

Nevertheless, here I was, setting up my equipment in the middle of the night at the edge of Castle Tarn. The waters of the small lake were absolutely still, reflecting the bright stars above and the jagged shapes of the surrounding peaks. The full moon was high in the sky and nearly bright enough to work by, although I augmented its illumination with a lantern on either side of my small work bench.

I checked the potion recipe one more time to make sure I had everything I needed. If I had forgotten anything, I could always run back to the Archives Castle behind me and retrieve it, but once I started the potion, that wouldn’t be an option.

When I determined that the moon would soon be directly above me, I picked up a thin metal rod from the bench. Lissy had loaned me her personal spark stick, and I used it now to light the oil burner under the crucible that was partially-filled with oil.

This was it. Once I started enchanting the ingredients for the potion, there would be no turning back. A thin breeze caused the burner’s flame to waver, and I silently asked the spirits to keep the air still.

Unable to delay any longer, I placed the first ingredient into the bowl of the enchanting press and pushed down with the curved lid. I channeled vaetra into the press and spoke the matching runephrase of the incantation. I then poured the newly enchanted ingredient into the heating crucible and started on the next ingredient.

I hesitated when I got to the vial of crushed wolf bone. It was the one ingredient that was unique to a lycanthropy potion. I could have used hair, teeth, or bone, but my research indicated that bone was the most effective.

When the final ingredient was all that remained and the concoction was starting to bubble, I looked up to see how well I had anticipated the moon’s progress across the sky. I smiled when I saw the white orb directly above me. I enchanted the final ingredient and added it to the crucible while speaking the runephrase that would fuse the potion. The crucible emitted a loud “tong” sound, and I let out a breath I’d been unaware of holding.

“That looked promising,” said a female voice from behind me. I started when she spoke, and it was a good thing I had just let go of the crucible handle, or all my work might have ended up in a puddle on the ground.

I turned to find Lissy standing a few steps behind me. Her dark hair framed a pale face that seemed to glow in contrast.

“Yes, and you nearly ruined it by scaring the life out of me,” I responded.

She nodded toward the workbench. “You could be in for quite an experience,” she commented.

I froze as her words sunk in. I took a step toward her and looked directly into her eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

She raised her eyebrows and grinned. “It’s customary for a Novice to demonstrate the product of his final exam before being granted Apprentice status. Surely you knew that.”

I shouted, “I surely did not!” If I had known I’d have to consume the potion myself, I would have been more insistent about making something else. When I drank my potion, I would turn into a wolf for some or most of the night, depending upon how strong the elixir turned out to be.

“Don’t worry, someone will go with you.” She looked over at the crucible and smirked as she added, “Although you may be by yourself for part of the night.”

So, she thought the potion might be strong too. I seriously considered “accidentally” bumping the work bench and tipping over the crucible, but that would mean failing the exam. I turned back to the bench with a sigh, and decanted the potion through a filtering funnel into a waiting bottle.

I sealed the bottle and stared at it with trepidation. I looked up at the bright, full moon again and wondered how it would appear when seen through canine eyes.

Territorial

I wrote Territorial as a present tense exercise. I came up with the idea for it early in my development of the story for Vaetra Unveiled, which included a few scenes involving werewolves. I thought it would be fun to try getting inside the head of a wolf and experience the forest from the animal’s point of view.

I drew on the atmosphere of this piece for Vaetra Unveiled, but the content never found a home in the novel.

698 words

lasher lopes swiftly down the dark and well-worn human trail through the forest, alert for travelers and ready to spring into the brush. The whisper of a breeze through the trailside bushes and the occasional crunch of a leaf are the only sounds that follow the wolf’s otherwise silent glide.

A sliver of moon hangs high in the sky. The stars and moon shine just enough light to soften the shadows, creating a muted backdrop for the rich scents and subtle sounds that feed the wolf's awareness of the night forest around him.

Rabbit! The wolf veers off the trail as his nose catches the warm, musky odor of small prey. He's not quite hungry yet, but food must be taken when the opportunity arises.

He slows and drops his nose to the ground, drawing in the scent of the rabbit that must still be nearby. He hears a rustle and freezes in place, listening. His ears twitch as he turns his head to locate another small rustle. The rabbit is very close.

He's about to move toward his prey when his muscles seize in response to an electrifying howl from farther down the trail. Intruder!

The invasion of his territory elicits a low rumbling growl from deep in his throat. The rabbit is forgotten as he turns back to the trail and runs in the direction of the call.

Slowing to a stop at the edge of a clearing, he sees three silhouettes growling and tearing at a carcass. The enticing smell of fresh warm blood is strong, forcing Slasher to take an involuntary step forward. One of the three intruders growls and snaps at another, eliciting a yip and swift withdrawal.

A small pack. The wolf hesitates. He is alone, with no pack mates to help him roust these poachers.

A light breeze strengthens the scent of the bloody carcass and the predators consuming it. It is too much. His hackles rise and he crouches, ready to spring. He narrows his eyes and bares his teeth with a fierce growl of challenge. Three pairs of yellow eyes instantly lift from their meal to regard him.

The alpha of the intruders returns the challenge. The alpha is much smaller, but he cannot let Slasher’s challenge go unanswered. The other two, a female and a young male, little bigger than a cub, growl their own displeasure at the interruption.

Slasher springs forward and streaks into the clearing, bounding over the fallen deer to crash bodily into the alpha, sending the intruder into a roll. The alpha leaps up and twists into Slasher as the larger wolf charges again, opening a small wound along his foreleg. At nearly the same instant, Slasher reacts with a twist of his own, grabbing the alpha's neck ruff and using his superior weight to bear the interloper over onto the ground. He shifts his grip and scissors his jaws around the smaller wolf's neck with a threatening growl. The alpha goes still.

The cub whines and backs away. The female darts in, biting at Slasher’s rear legs in an attempt to hamstring him. He senses her attack and shifts aside at the last moment. She scores a shallow slice, but it's only painful, not debilitating.

She readies herself for another lunge, but as she starts to move, Slasher releases the alpha and flips around, taking a biting slash at her face. She yips and bounds back when Slasher rips the tender tip of her nose with his flashing teeth.

Slasher stands snarling at his foes, ready to pounce again. The alpha flips over onto his feet and runs from the clearing. The female and cub follow as fast as they are able.

Slasher howls his victory and rips a few choice morsels from the deer carcass. He then lies down, panting. He sniffs at his wounds and gingerly licks them clean.

During the encounter, the sky has lightened. Sunrise approaches. Slasher rises and limps back down the trail, seeking a good place to rest. He leaves the path and finds a favorite sheltered hollow under a tumble of boulders. Relatively safe from human discovery, he curls into the space and closes his eyes.

Novels by Daniel R. Marvello

The Vaetra Chronicles

Vaetra Unveiled

Vaetra Untrained

Vaetra Unleashed

The Ternion Order

First Moon

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About the Author

Daniel R. Marvello writes fantasy adventure stories that feature relatable characters, rich story worlds, an abundance of magic, a touch of humor, and satisfying endings. While his stories engage your imagination with plenty of conflict and action, they don’t dwell on darkness, angst, gore, or pain.

Daniel’s story worlds spring from his imagination, but they are based on the natural beauty found in the mountains and high desert regions of the Western United States. He enjoys writing high fantasy, where the characters live in an alternate world with its own rules and creatures, as well as low fantasy, where magic lies hidden in a familiar contemporary setting. His only rule? There must be magic.

Daniel lives in North Idaho with his wife of more than twenty years as well as a furry support crew that spends a lot of time sleeping in his office.

Visit Daniel’s blog, The Vaetra Files, for more information about his story worlds, characters, and works in progress.

This collection is dedicated to my wife, Susan.

She gave me the freedom to follow my dream of becoming a fantasy writer
and has always been my biggest supporter.