One Word Prompts 2021

Sprout - The Wastes of Myrdin

It was an extreme place, the Wastes of Myrdin. During the days, the temperatures scorched skin from bone. Glass panes oozed from their frames, forming molten puddles around their bases. Fallen stone baked under the merciless skies.

Yet at night, the world froze. What water hid in the cracks and crevices of stone and shadow froze in solid sheets. The inky black night leached back all the heat the land had gobbled up, leaving no trace of warmth.

It was a forsaken place, filled with fallen cities. These bones of a civilization long gone groaned under the weight of time and the whirl of wind.

People gave Myrdin wide birth. There was nothing there of worth, just stone and sand. Just ghosts and monsters.

She shuddered in her heavy winter coat. This was madness. If they wanted to execute her, they should have just done it. Save everyone the trouble.

Save her the trouble, at least.

She shook her head, rubbing her wrists again. They were still sore from the cuffs. But this is what she got. Banishment. Banishment to the Wastes.

If she looked over her shoulder, she'd still be able to see the lights of town behind her. She didn't.

She'd liked that little town. It had been quiet, for a border town on the edge of the deadly wasteland. It was something approaching peaceful. The people had been good. Well, good to her, at least. But it never lasts.

And they'd found out. And the Guard had come. And it had been them or her. And she couldn't fault them for their choice.

Still, she wished they hadn't pleaded for her sentence converted to banishment in the Wastes. A blaster to the forehead wasn't a pretty way to go, but it was supposed to be instant if nothing else. It seemed a better plan than burning to death in the dawn.

But, they'd meant well, despite everything. The town elder had even given her this coat. A foolish use of resources for sure. But it meant she would live until dawn unless she ran into one of the metal monsters that supposedly stalked Myrdin.

She shivered again despite the coat. The coat was doing fairly well, though her breath escaped her throat in clouds. If she could just get her hands warm, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She rubbed them together, blowing into them, and jamming them into the pockets.

But, no, the real reason for her shivering and shuddering was the ghost stories flitting back and forth through her mind. As if the unquestioning features of nature here weren't enough, there was no shortage of tales of translucent men and women in ghastly shades of blue or green flickering into existence before foolish travelers. Some of these shades screamed incessantly, high-pitched and constant. Others begged for mercy or forgiveness again and again. Others still made impossible demands, threatening their poor victims without stop.

The ghosts she thought she could handle. Spooky as they were, she'd never heard any tale where they actually hurt a traveler. No, if she were to meet her end before dawn, it would be at the hands of one of the metal monsters.

They had to be fantasy, she repeated to herself again. Nothing could survive the heat of day in Myrdin. Absolutely nothing. And a monster made of metal? With red eyes that glowed in the dark? Hands like claws, made of shining steal? Fantasy.

It didn't matter anyway, she reminded herself. For all the reasons those things couldn't be out here, she wasn't going to live long past dawn. Not unless she could find a really deep cave. Somewhere the sun wouldn't see her. Somewhere low, where the cold of night might sink to and survive through the day.

She hadn't seen anything like that yet. Just impenetrable stone pile after stone pile. Pillars of broken rubble. Remains of ruins that might cast shallow shadows for part of the day.