A Duty Undone, A Soul Recalled

20260213

Written for Bradley Ramsey’s “Flash Fiction February Day 13”.

I wake disoriented. For a moment I wonder if my memories - collecting the crystals, receiving the gods’ power, and sealing the Grasping One - were merely a wild dream. But I realise I’m still clad in the ceremonial robes I wore for our final battle, and the hero is standing over me.
At once panic sets in. What happened? I wove myself into the Seal, if I’m here, then-
“I’m so sorry.” The hero says, his voice far rougher and weaker than I remember. “I swear I tried to find another way.”
“Wh-what…?” My tongue is clumsy in my mouth. My body still stiff. From death? “The Seal…”
His gaze dropped to the floor. “I failed to protect it.”
“Already… gone?”
“Yes. And everything I tried to replace it…”
He’d always worn a bright, cocky smile. I’d never seen that reassuring expression falter for more than a moment. Yet now his face holds only guilt and exhaustion.
I flex my fingers and toes. Try sitting up. He takes my arm, his fingers strong and calloused and oh so gentle, and helps me rise.
“I hate to ask this of you again, but I can’t beat him alone.”
“Nobody would… expect you to.”
He laughs at that, a short bitter bark that he doesn’t elaborate on. I decide not to ask.
“How am I… What did you do?”
Though we are in the temple, I’m sure it wasn’t a miracle which brought me back. I would have heard the gods in that case.
“Ah…” He winces. His face has so many lines now. Mostly around his eyes. “I went to the Swamp Witch, and…” When he trails off I don’t press.
At least, while the Swamp Witch cares only for herself, she would not upset the natural balance too much. Not enough to put nature at risk, for that is the source of her power. And that the ritual was performed here, under the gods’ gaze, reassures me.
“The cost was… grave.” His hand trembles in mine. “But it has been paid. And the magic will last a full day.”
“One day?”
“Yes. Everything else is ready. We did not risk raising you until the plan could commence. I’m so, so sorry, but we must go.”
I nod and readily take the arm he offers me in support.
“How long has it been?”
Less than seven years, I assume, or else the crystals would be ready to channel the gods’ blessing again, and a new Martyr could be anointed to replace me.
“Three years.” His gaze is turned away from me, his voice choked with shame. “The Grasping One had seeded the court with loyal followers. They tricked me. Got me to leave my vigil and used some twisted magic to break through the Seal.”
Ahh. Yes, while the dragons ensured he was raised to be courageous, and pure of heart, and righteous, and selfless, I doubt they thought to educate him on political manoeuvring. I wonder if they even understand the concept.
I ache to comfort him, but don’t know what to say. “I know you did your best.”
“It wasn’t enough.” He brushes my attempt aside. “I will not fail you again.”
Though I don’t feel he’s failed me at all, I decide to focus on mustering my strength for the task ahead. I am shaky, my fingers too clumsy to form the sacred signs. Time is of the essence, and not only because of the countdown on the magic chaining me to the mortal coil; I fear the Grasping One will be able to sense my presence. We must strike fast.
Afterwards, if I have time left to me, I will try to reassure him properly. If I cannot perform my duty again then no assurance will be enough - and it will be far more than merely my soul which scatters tomorrow.

Prompt was “You’ve discovered a magic spell which can bring anyone back from the dead for a single day. Write a story or poem about that day…”