Fantasy Flash Fiction


Lena Abram

Published 3.03.2024 10:20 AM UTC

Darkness and Spring

Her eyes are like two suns, but in her gaze lurks darkness. He comes from a cold land, but his smile is like the spring.

She misses light. He is attracted to shadows.

She offers him a sweet fruit, wishing him to stay with her. He accepts the treat, knowing that he could die.

A gray twilight falls in his soul.

A gray dawn rises in her heart.

Inspiration: the myth of Hades and Persephone

Published 17.03.2024 12:04 PM UTC


The woman in a red cloak stands in the snowy glade, singing. Her voice echoes among the giant trees and draws the attention of a wolf hunting nearby. For some reason, her song gets up his hunger.

The wolf starts toward her, led by an instinct. The red of her cloak separates her from the wintry landscape like blood. An easy target.

The wolf reaches the edge of the clearing. The woman stops singing and looks at him with vertical pupils of golden eyes.

The wolf goes still. His instinct tells him to run, but in his body wakes a new hunger.

The enchantress moves her gaze over his robust silhouette. Since he is twice as big as an ordinary wolf, she quickly guesses that he is a shapeshifter in his animal form. She smiles and asks in a seductive voice, “Hungry?”

Inspiration: the fairy tale about Little Red Riding Hood (set in the world of Faelands ;)

Published 1.04.2024 6:34 PM UTC


They say that the old witch’s house is made from gingerbread and rests on chicken legs, but when Wanderer finds it, he sees an ordinary cottage and a beautiful girl instead of an old woman.

“You are Yaga?” Wanderer asks.

“It’s me,” the girl nods.

“You are supposed to be old.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

Wanderer furrows his eyebrows. “I see that you are young.” He gestures at the cottage. “Just as I see that your house isn’t made from gingerbread, though everyone says it is.”

The witch smiles. “Some see what they want to see. Some don’t want to see what they see.” She gives him a curious look. “To which group do you belong?”

Inspiration: folk tales about Baba Yaga

Published 2.05.2024 8:36 AM UTC


When the prince was informed about an unconscious woman on the beach, he suspected she was a siren. There were no scaly patterns on her skin, however, and her eyes were dark, human. Priests told him that she received a shock and lost her memory like many other people who encountered demons and the prince, overwhelmed by sympathy, asked his father to allow the woman to stay in the palace.

Weeks passed. The woman still couldn’t remember where she came from and how she landed on the beach, but she knew how to heal. Not knowing when she became a respected member of society. Not knowing when the prince fell in love with her.

She loved the prince too.

So much so that she was afraid to tell him the truth.

Related works: A Summer Night’s Wish

Published 1.06.2024 9:45 AM UTC

Snake in the Palace

The new queen has the eyes of a snake, but her voice disturbs the residents of the palace more than her vertical pupils. It’s melodious. Alluring.


With this voice, she orders doors to open and knives to hit the target. With this voice, she captured the city she’s now ruling. With this voice, she could kill anyone who would oppose her.

On the green plains she comes from, her power isn’t extraordinary, but in the dwellers of winter forests who aren’t used to the presence of enchanters, it prompts instinctive fear. Since there is nothing they hate more than fear, they don’t hide their resentment toward the new ruler.

The queen ignores it. She knows what it is like to feel fear and knows that it can push someone to their limits.

She knows that one day someone will try to take her crown.

She knows that she will take her revenge.

Related works: Song of Earth and Claws