. I was the right hand of the Fairy King, his most loyal soldier.
One day, as I led the charge on the invading demon army, I was struck on my right wing with a barbed demonic arrow. The black poison inside it spread through my wing. I knew my mission came before me. So, I cut my own right wing and dived to the ground swooping in on the Demon General and lopping his head off. The battle was won. But I lost the ability to fly.
My new flightless body came with dire consequences. I was cast out of the army. I lost the trust of my king and I became an outcast. My very own people forgot about me.
In my pain and sorrow I felt a darkness grow within me. And from that black, demonic darkness, was born a new wing.
A black wing…
Word Count: 175
Prompt:
Excellent response to this prompt, thanks so much for adding your thoughts this week.
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Thanks so much, Michael! 🙂
My pleasure! 😀
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Excellent Nid. Wonderful interpretation.
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Thanks so much, Di! 😀
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I had visions of Lucifer, there. But a black wing is better than no wing. 🙂
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Oh yes! 😉
Black wings are way better!! 😛
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wow
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Thank You! 😀
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What a great expression of how tragedy can turn us so negative internally. Well done, Nidheesh!
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Thanks so much, Susi! 😀 😀
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You’re welcome!
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