The Seasons Prevail

I gave myself a writing challenge. I put out an open call on facebook for individuals willing to let me write their Dystopia Rising characters. I explained that I want to write more than just Jeanie, that I’d work with the individual who plays each character. But, it’s a chance for me to work on my writing skills by challenging me to branch out into other characters. So, here it is. The first of my Dystopia Rising Friend Fictions.


“Fucking Dead Eyes,” she groaned as she hefted the shield up in front of her face. There was the ping of a bullet bouncing into the shield before it fell, harmlessly to the ground. The ascensorite glanced around the edge of her shield and up the hill to where the Dead Eye Raiders were sniping down on them. To make matters worse, they could clearly see through the windows of the building behind her and they were sniping down anyone they saw inside.

Murphy had family inside.

With a deep breath, she felt the spirit of Autumn swell up inside her. She adjusted the grip on her sword and glanced at the enemies above her. Winter’s guidance pointed out that despite being in a strategically worse position, her shield would be very useful right now. Plus, she could charge at the two out front with the shitty guns and then make her way around behind the sniper who was doing the most damage. A gentle breeze brushed back her hair, reminding her that even if the dead of winter, the life of spring breaks through. Now, in the dead of battle, life would still prevail. The seasons made it clear. They always did.

Murphy charged up the hill. She stopped at the first raider and with a swing, sliced into the raiders hip. She quickly pulled back and then sent a quick thrust into the raider’s lower gut. It dropped his weapon to the ground. A twist of her blade sent him to his knees.

The ascensorite cried out as flaming pain entered her shoulder. She whipped her head around to see one of the Raiders running towards her, his gun pointed. She closed her eyes for a quick moment, focused on the heat of the pain and how it was similar to the heat of Jeanie’s forge or the heat of Sol’s freshly made weapons. It was a reminder of the heat of summer, a reminder of the constant support the seasons gave her. She adjusted the grip on her blade once more, pulling it from the first raider and ready to face the second.

Murphy dropped to her knees, holding her shield in front of her and waited carefully as the Raider charged forward, continuing to shoot his gun at her. He shot again and again, firing the bullets into her shield, each one dropping to the ground. Then at the last moment, she popped up and lifted her sword. The momentum from the raider’s charge, sent him barreling towards her sword. A shift of her hips and the sword sliced through the front of his abdomen. The raider toppled to the ground.

A cold gust reminded her to check her surroundings, a gentle nudge of winter to reassess the circumstance and change her tactics accordingly. Her ascensorite brothers were fighting along side of her. The chaotic jingle of bells on one side of her, the steady determination of a tree on her other side. Farther off was the scream of someone pummeling his fists into a raider’s head. The colors of Autumn swirled in the movements of her loved ones and revealed the still open path to the Dead Eye who continued to snipe at the people hiding inside the building.

Murphy charged forward. She let the spirit of spring guide her steps through the new growths and up behind the raider. A thrust of her blade into his kidney. She pulled back and shifted her hips to slice the blade through his other side. The raider dropped his gun to the ground and fell forward onto his knees. She carefully lined up the blade with the artery in his neck before pulling her blade and slicing through to ensure the raider’s death.

She glanced around her as the heat of the sun shown down. The saint of the seasons was carefully brushing off the bark skin he had. Standing nearby was a grinning young man, his paws wrapped around a blood coated spear as he scanned for another threat. In the distance an Arkadian was staring down at a deceased raider muttering about how much he hated Dead Eyes. The screaming from the building had stopped.

Murphy took a deep breath and smiled.

The seasons had prevailed.

They always did.


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