Reincarnated Enemies

“You get uglier every time,” she said. He also smelled worse every time but if she started listing all the things that got worse with each reincarnation, they would be in the next incarnation by the time she finished.

The bared his teeth at her in his version of a smile. “And you, smaller,” he said, raising his eyebrows. He peered far down to trace the length of her with his eyes. She barely reached his chest.

She bared her teeth right back, but it must’ve lost some of its potency in the long distance between her face and his. Insults and barbs to volley back gathered on her tongue like a lingering bitter wine but her steward cleared his throat and she had to sigh them away.

“As difficult as it may be, we’ll put aside the matter of your appalling face and discuss more important matters,” she said. “Such as the one that in a twisted, laughable turn of events, you are my champion for this tournament.”

With that, she picked up her skirts and turned to go. The steward cleared his throat again.

She sighed, a deep sigh from her belly. She half-turned back and said, “Perform well and I won’t have you killed.” With that, she left the hall.

The steward wanted to slap a hand over his face.


Is that original prompt and picture response not darling? I get so tickled every time I see it. I really wouldn’t mind doing a short story or two to expand on this situation. Reincarnation but in a fantasy setting? I don’t see that too often. Or reincarnation hardly ever, for that matter. Write what you would want to read, they always say!

If you click on the pin btw you’ll probably be able to read the original written prompt. The fantastic photo is another response to that prompt, which is about reincarnated enemies.

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When Magic Surpasses Might

click here for the original pin

It couldn’t be helped: the ember, the flame. The magic sparked in my veins like a line of firecrackers going off under my skin, and all at once I am aware of every empty space between my bones as the energy travels from behind my eyes, running over the hollows behind my ears, between the branches of my collarbones, curling under my armpits, tickling my funny bone at my elbow and pooling in a spool at the insides of my wrists, glowing a pale, Halloween green, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I clench my fists and a button of magic slips into my palms. I open my hand, scattering a shield around me.

Let them try to take me now.


Do I know what’s going on here? Haven’t the foggiest. But I was struck by this artwork, the expression on her face–the pure defiance in her eyes and boldness in her stance. I love how her hands are out and chin down, saying, “Come at me.” I’d love to write a story about her character.