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Write a fantasy story with the theme: Loss
(Kinda went a bit off topic, but I hope you'll still like it ^^)


Nadja stood along the curb of the littered street in Amaden, a mob of people pushing and shoving past her. The clamouring crowd beyond the invisible boundary between the pavement and the road was astonishing, like a thin veil of impenetrable magic had created stillness on the road. Not even the wind whispered to the leaves on the street to move. The people hushed as the procession began to start. The sound of horns and violins filled the streets, as a sleek, carved wooden coffin slowly came into view. It was painted a glossy black, with a golden pair of feathered wings emblazoned on the top. The symbol of Angel. The death of one of Amaden's legendary Protectors was the most devastating the city had seen in centuries, the crowds amassing for to mourn her death. Once a Protector had departed the world, another would be bestowed powers powerful enough to attain the position of a Protector, given a new title and sworn to defend the city. That is, if they are not hunted down before reaching the other Protectors. Mercenaries, thieves and foreign powers alike, had all tried to eradicate the city of the Protectors, none succeeding, until now. Protectors were immortal. A Protector had been murdered.

Behind the coffin, three cloaked figures were following closely, faces shrouded by a hood. Elementalist, Witch and Shapeshifter. Angel's closest comrades and the only people who knew her identity. Together, they were the living Gods that walked the realm, Keepers of the City and the Hand of Justice. Except, these rules weren't strictly true.

When the Protectors were on a campaign along the outskirts of the south side, I had encountered Angel, who was lost along the way, and was too exhausted of magic to use her pathfinder ability. She collapsed on the pavement, next to a young, aspiring healer by the name of Amalie. She took Angel in and spent days healing her, all the while fighting back rumours and assassins who wanted her dead. When Angel finally stirred, she had thanked Amalie for her hospitality and bravery, and imbued her with a fractal of her mystical Angel magic, as thanks, but she must not inform anyone of Angels identity or that she had received such power. With a flash, she was gone. Amalie never forgot Angels face. Many moons passed, and Angel received word from Amalie, who had found threatened to reveal her face to the public. Amalie had become dependent on Angels magic, and had burned up her soul, hungry for more.

Amalies consuming hunger for more power had doomed the city. Angel was gone from this city, never to be seen again. Threats against her quickly disintegrated - who cared about the identity of a dead Protector?

A few days prior, Nadja had gone to visit Amalie, whose was power shackling her very mind. Nadja tapped into her soul and reigned in the power, wrenching it from her grasp. Falling, Amalie's physical form turned to ashes. A few days of manipulating the dark energy, Nadja had created a new power Darkness from Light.

Nadja took one last look at the glinting, golden wings atop the coffin, and pushed past the crowd, towards the hidden lair of the Protectors, to plan the announcement of her new identity, the newest Protector - Siren.

Fantasy with the theme of loss.
Alright, this is part of chapter 7 of my book, which doesn't have a title yet. I would have written the whole chapter, but it's a really long chapter; that may make it harder to understand, but I don't know. Just a warning, since this is taking place in a more medieval time. This is very religiously oriented. Just a warning, just in case.
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"You must be patient, Job. He has a plan, and your prayers will be answered piece by piece. Do not rush Him, my child." Terrance gave Job a gentle smile.
"Why do you call me your child? You have two sons-"
"Because I call all young people child."
"Oh."
"Job, I need you to keep a secret."
"I can do that."
"Alex is my adopted son. He is King Gideon II's nephew, and therefore, is the true heir to the throne."
"He-he is? But this means Daman Sidwell-"
"Yes, yes. It means Daman Sidwell is not supposed to be king. But he can never know this."
"I will not tell him. I promise."
King Daman Sidwell interrupted them by clapping his hands. "Hey, wrap it up! We have an execution to do!" He ordered.
Job looked at Terrance. "I cannot kill you. I could never kill any of my brothers and sisters. I am sorry, Brother Terrance."
"It is alright. I forgive you, Brother Job."
Job grinned at that. But it faded as the king shoved his face into his.
The king began yelling at him to kill the old farmer already. He looked purple with rage. "Your magic is the quick and merciful way!" He was shouting.
Job backed away from the king, shaking his head. "No," he said in both the minds of the king and Terrance. "I will not kill a brother of my religion."
The king wrapped his hands around Job's neck. Job's eyes were wide with alarm.
"Guard, kill the blaphemist!" The king yelled as he strangled his mage.
A guard walked up to Terrance, drawing his sword.
"I hope you burn in hell, Demon from the Well," Terrance cursed. "And may Job be blessed for all he has given up."
The sword swung down and the world vanished.
A grief stricken scream echoed through the valley. To those who knew the family, it sounded like Alex, Terrance's youngest son.

Fantasy With The Theme Loss:

Sometimes as I am sitting here looking at the sky painted with streaks of fiery color, I remember the sunset that took the three things I had loved and needed most with it. I remember the feeling that was so strange and horrible that all of the languages in the universe still hadn't come up with a word to describe it. Yes, I remember how it had all happened in an instant, just as the dying sun cast out its last desperate ropes of light to the sky in hopes that it might be pulled back up as it sank to its knees so low that it fell into the earth itself. And I can remember a pain too great that its soul purpose was not to kill you but to make you suffer as you lived with it, for this pain was too great to end quickly and give you the mercy of death. After all, three is a tragic number.
And sometimes as I look back at these reflections that I saw in shattered mirrors, I fall into them, just like when the sun falls into the world. I am swirled away into the feeling I had so long ago, when three pieces of me had been hacked away, one of them literally. Yes, I can remember...
...when I raced across the battlefield astride my dairhorse, wings outstretched behind me, my lethal blade raised above my head, shrieking a barbarous battle cry as I trampled my enemies, sounds of battle all around me. Metal clashed, arrows whistled through the air, and screams echoed in my ears, ringing through my mind, making my eyebrows knit impossibly tight. Ander reared as navy-skinned Thrends rushed towards us with spiked, poison clubs. I slashed my sword across their chests making dark blood spurt and stain Ander's poppy-red coat. I tried to block out their gurgling screams, but they fought to reach my mind. The Thrends dropped and Ander ran over them, not giving them a second glance with his sharp dairish eyes. I focused on my target. She was standing near the back of the army, screaming out orders to her battalion of monsters. Shadows threaded through her dark hair and her skin was covered with black flame. She wielded her fearsome blade that I had only heard stories about. Her eyes were seeking me out, too. The bored holes into me and my skin crawled under my stained armor.
My dairhorse and I joined minds and suddenly we were a whirlwind, blurring through the fight, slashing and kicking with rage-fueled force. I held onto Ander tight with my legs and kept my gray-speckled wings tucked tight against my body to keep from flying off.
But then the world stopped moving and my mind was shredded by indescribable force as Ander was hit in the neck hard with a poisoned club from a Thrend. He shrieked with such terror and pain that everyone in the fight stopped and winced for a moment, everyone except for Aystra, my nemesis. I saw her black lips twist into a sneer full of taunting triumph as my dairhorse fell to the ground, his body wracked with spasms. I threw my head back and roared with such fury that everyone around me fell, both ally and enemy fell, unable to move. Ander's eyes were full of terrible pain and panic as he writhed on the bloodied ground. I regretfully took my blade and silenced his cries so he would no longer suffer. I couldn't watch him die like this. My anger seemed to have tickled Aystra and she was laughing. It was a terrible sound that echoed into space and surrounded me, making time stop.
I spread my feathered wings and pushed off of the earth, a ball of hostility and anger surrounding me. I charged through the air toward Aystra, my sword prepared to strike.
And then I was filled with searing pain as an invisible dagger sliced through my left wing, cutting it clean off. I hit the ground hard, sending shock waves through my bones and tremors through the earth. Blood was streaming down my back and now I was a downed bird, flightless, chained to the earth. I would never again feel what it was like to be up, higher than the earth. Tears of anger spilled down my cheeks as I pointlessly tried to lift my body from the ground. Aystra strode past all of the fallen and stopped in front of me. Her dark form loomed over me and my vision was blurred. My head was pounding. She radiated fear, but I was no longer afraid. I was only lost. I was without my trusted friend and my freedom of flight, and here I was, about to die.
But it was worse than death.
Aystra raised her blade and I felt it cut my being from my body. My soul was severed from me, and it died away. Now I was just a shell, a husk filled with what had once been. I was nothing as I lay there screaming on the ground. I was an image of defeat, the idol of downfall, of loss. And finally, the red of the sun slipped behind the horizon...
...and I was back to staring at the never-ending black sky, my single, gray-speckled wing outstretched as the wind blew gently across my face, my empty husk searching for what it had lost.

Can we reserve a post?

Sure, but remember to get the story in before the time limit! Would you like me to put you on the participant list?

(Thi is amazing you should do a Rp for this!)

Warning, blood and gore ahead.
Fantasy (loss)

I groggily open my eyes, my head throbbing. As I blink the blur out of them, I notice that I am in some sort of dungeon, and my hands and feet are bound. My scalp tingles, so I bring a piece of my hair to my face, using both hands as they are tied together. My eyes widen, and I move into a small ray of sun through my dingy window. Its black. I look into a puddle of water on my cell floor, and see that more than that has been changed. Whoever altered me made me taller, and changed my eyes to a blood red. Not ordinary red, but a deep, maniacal red. The eyes of a murderer. I dont like it one bit. I hear a scream cut through the thick stench, and I cringe. My heart drops into my stomach as I hear the voice that tried to take me in my dreams. It says in a floaty, chilling voice,
"Ah, my twin is awake. I try to make my presents look like me. They are great back up dummies for when there are assassins out for me." A white smock-dress with streaks of blood seems to appear, a hazy outline of a womans body in it. It opens its eyes, and I feel a jab into my conscious as I see the vivid blood colored eyes, just like mine. I get lost in the pool, drowning in the blood of all she has killed, as she pours her favorite memories of the countless young she has murdered. I am drowning, and lose myself, coming out a crazed, killing machine to do her business.
"Now then, lets get you some proper clothes, eh?" The lady picks up the new me with surprising strength, and carries me out into a long dark passageway. I cant see through the red haze on my eyes, so I give in to the evil now inside me. It opens its senses, and buries me where I surely wont be found.

The lady dresses my body, and the thing inside me smiles as it sees the simple smock, streaked with blood and dirt.
"It smells like blood, master."
"Thats because its owner died, sweets." The thing nods. It feels around our side, and finally reaches a small hole where there used to be an arrow. We feel a slimy substance, and it brings it up to our face. It is blood. I shiver and recoil from it, losing myself in its conscious, and fall asleep for a long time.

I wake up. The demon is still here, but it is overjoyed, and a touch proud of itself. I see a cowering child. I thrust my mind up, my body in use by the demon. I brush against it, and it recoils. I speak as loud as possible,
DONT DO IT.
And why shouldnt I? The voice is a surprisingly young one, sounding like a little girl.
How old are you?

Older than you, human.

But how much so, random demon using my body?
Im a ghoul. Hundreds if not thousands of years older than you. My name is Fixihr, don't distract me during my special time. I get a new person every day.
The 'ghoul' floods my conscious with terrifying tortures. The last one is the worst.

MEMORY (seen by Ghoul)

The man left with me is naked. He is unashamed though, and holds his head high and proud, as if he thinks he is better than me. I will soon see to that. I slowly approach him, knife in hand. I make direct eye contact with him, and he says,
"Well, Stella, you have changed." I smile at him, and stab his conscious. He immediately blocks me, but I easily slip his defenses. I get into his mind, prying out his most personal memories.
"You and thisss Stella was closse, no? Remember your torture as done by her." I whisper this as I trail my knife around his chest eager to start. i toy with his body, leaving many small cuts and bruises, until I can handle it no more. I begin leaving wide, bleeding cuts all over. Soon, the man loses conscious, so I slit his jugular. Such a boring session... Normally there would be screaming involved. I leave the room, letting the man bleed out.

*BACK TO STELLA*
I can't even cry. This being has surely taken everything from me. It murdered Aerik, and I can't kill myself or anything like that. Aerik was all I had left. Now I have nothing, and I can do nothing about it. I am trapped alone, deemed to live forever encased in this body with the demon. I pour all my heartbreak into one final moment, and I stab my conscious into the demon. It easily holds me still, and continually pours it's memories into me, and I am tortured. Tortured until the days blur, and I lose myself in crazed ravings, all including my memories of Aerik.
The girl was weak. I held her for 100 years before I left her body, and she roams still, raving mad.

Write a fantasy story with the theme: Loss

I wanted to do one sylestia themed, so here goes!

[[WARNING: This story has slight gore themes in it. If you are easily disturbed, be careful.]]

It was hunting time. I licked my young kits, and let them feed before we went off. I was with the rest of my Lighira pack. We were lucky to be colored the same as the yellow-green fields we ventured in, as with the spectrum that creatures like us can come in. We spotted faelora who were wandering far from the forest they came from. There was the target. Me and the other females crouched, and snuck towards them, making as little noise as possible. We went in for the kill. As we were readying our stances, we heard the growls of various sylestis. We stayed down, absolutely silent. I perked up a bit, and noticed a young lady with a zolnixi, aurleon, and a griffi. Each one of them had various mutations, and looked very majestic. I ducked back down in the grass. The human tamer stopped, looked at the faelora, and then charged towards the right of the group. Some faeloras fled, but the slower ones knew they had to fight. I noticed that the ones the kept with them also had mutations and unique fur coats. That was their plan, only keep the sylestis that look pretty enough! I watched as she reached in her bag and pulled out radiant snares. She trapped the sylestis, and as I looked at the faelora, they looked brainwashed. Dazed. Like they didn't know what happened...and rightfully so.

She kept them next to her, and her group marched on. A new hunter had noticed a blind, injured bulbori limp by, and without thinking, she had clawed at it and bit down, and as it was killed it squealed very loudly. Then the sylesti tamer walked near us, and then battled us one by one. First, she took on the slower members of the pack, and captured one, but knocked the others out rather quickly. As she took on the next most powerful group, I rushed over to inspect my allies. I investigated their wounds, and then noticed, in a shock, that only one of the knock-outs was alive. She had murdered my other friend, in cold blood. I started to whimper, then I noticed that a few more Lighiras were dead. Only me, and the other two strongest remained. I was terrified. I waited to charge up my mana, as the others jolted quickly at the zolnixi. I recognized the plan, and did my final blow on the zolnixi. However, I could tell he was alive, by his paw twitching. I didn't care if he was dead, I cared that some of us were still breathing. Then, her aurleon took lead. We immediately unison attacked it. As her aurleon weakened, she took out a snare trap and threw it at my closest friend. She tried to break out, however battle injuries took their toll. She couldn't be saved.

I roared angrily and attacked her aurleon, the impact startling her griffi. It stepped back, right into the other remaining ally. She bit down, however, the griffi scratched at her throat, and she collapsed. I was terrified. The tamer looked at my captured friends, noticed they looked like her, and then she ordered the griffi to cut the life out of her. I whimpered. Before I knew what I was getting in to, I sunk my teeth in to the griffi, and it was knocked out as well. She looked annoyed, but then she walked away with the new captures and her fainted sylestis to a distant town. I looked down at my dead teammates, and mourned the loss. How could I let it happen? I could have saved them...She should have took me.

I limped back to where my cubs should have been, only to find them hiding behind a nearby rock. I looked past them. The pack males were all dead. All accept for my mate. His mane flowed, and I noticed bloody marks on his fur, as he finished off the last "pet" of another tamer. The tamer took his lightweight fainted "pets" and ran off to the town. I asked him what happened, and he told me a group of tamers had found them, and tried to get their sylestis stronger by killing them. They didn't kill off the kits, as they would not have benefited them. We went over to the baby lighiras, and tried to convince them it was fine. We led them to a nearby cliff, were an ally pack of luporas would be crossing. We waited for them, but I saw a familiar figure, and my friends in the distance. It was the tamer! We both jumped out, but as my mate had seen what his allies had become, he froze. But I knew they would survive this. I clawed at one, then leaped to bite the other. But they looked at my mate, as the tamer commanded them. They jumped out at him and attacked his weak spots. He fell to the ground, then let out a roar, and bit them, before he gave out and collapsed for good. My kits mewed and cried at the sight of their dead father.

I had enough. I knocked out the slower one with frantic, angry bites, and looked at my old, dear friend in her blank slate eyes. She didn't remember me. She bit my neck, leaving a wound. I then bit her and scratched her twice as hard. Then she looked at the tamer, the tamer was furious. I could see it in her eyes. She commanded my old friend, and she looked up at a weak spot in the cliff. Instead of hitting me, the lighira I once knew blasted the cliff with a surge of wind, and her, and the tamer got their group out of the way. I saw the cliff fall and bolted to the side, where a pebble hit me. I was about to feel relief, until I saw a bit of blood and bone sticking out. My kits. They were under there. I heard no mews for help. They were all crushed by her violent attack. I cried constantly, then scratched and bit my friend in the neck with all the fury in my soul. I killed her. I didn't care. I couldn't feel anything but rage and sorrow. Her previous pets peered out and tried to fight, but I then lept out and took their lives from them. I noticed water pour from her eyes. I glared at her. She looked at me with shocked eyes. I made it her last emotion. I looked at the throat I had cut deep in to. Then, I noticed what had happened.

I was corrupted by what I thought was justice. I sat down. I looked around. My recklessness had caused not only my young to be killed by impact, but for her young sylestis, and herself to be killed. All because I didn't realize...I was worse than any human could dream to be. I sat down in the middle of the battlefield. I cried.

What is wrong with me.

Why couldn't I do anything

Now I have to live away from those I loved.

Now..

They are lost.

(That was long. Huh. I didn't know I was capable of something like this. Anyways, good luck to all storywriters.)

Thank you guys for entering your stories!