This week’s flash fiction is from the universe of Aurelai. Hopefully you all find it interesting!


He tapped his long, bony fingers against the stone arm-rest of his throne. His bulbous eyes focused in on the connection he was maintaining between himself and his denizen. The creature had found the ruins in that other place, had found the source of power, and was waiting for the pursuit to catch up. It wasn’t the smartest of his subordinates, but it was the only one who wouldn’t appear too threatening to the beings of that other planet.

Non-threatening was key here if they were to deliver their message to these humanoid creatures. And it had been ingrained in them that they were to bring the son of shadows here. He didn’t know who that was, but this seemed like the best start on it. Up until recently, they’d been unable to make any headway at all. They had fought with Aurelai’s surface dwellers for a place in this world, for a way to access the Gate that would lead them to the son of shadows. But he hadn’t been able to use it. 

The way to that other place and the coordinates given had been useless. The Gate let the surface dwellers go other places, but it never admitted him or his men when those numbers were entered. He knew the Gate worked. He could feel the hum of energy right up until he fed the coordinates in his mind into the machine. And then the magic sputtered to a stop and the gears inside ground to a halt. 

But after centuries of surviving against all odds, they finally had broken through. The Gate had flashed and sent out a beacon with those coordinates, and he’d sent someone through. Now, he just had to wait.

Waiting was the hardest part, of course. He reached out with his mind, breaking the link with his subordinate. Nothing special going on over there. Until the Gate brought someone else to this world besides returning surface-dwellers and their goods, he didn’t care too much about what his liaison did. The runt was always a bit on the dull side, but it knew how to communicate well enough, so it served a purpose.

Heaving himself out of his chair, he clopped across the hall on his hind legs before dropping to all fours. Walking like the surface-dwellers became easier every day. Maybe if he kept working at it, he could finally gain freedom from this wretched prison. But until he looked like them, they would never accept him. And while his projection allowed him to appear human enough to them, he couldn’t hide a strange gait or awkward speech. But someday. Someday, he would be free to mingle up there. Free to find out what all the fuss was about in that cloud city. And he would find out himself. Maybe if he could understand them and their culture, the senseless killing of his people could stop. They were different, but that didn’t mean they were inhumane. It wasn’t their fault their creator made them with a goal that overrode any sense of humanity in them. But the goal didn’t control everything, and someday, once the son of shadows came, it would be gone. He would be free.


And there you have it! That’s it for this week. Have something you’d like to see in this section of the blog? Feel free to leave your suggestion in the comments below!

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