Inspiration, the fuel for writers, is everywhere. This was my Saturday night in my little mountain town. Don’t be surprised if you come across a similar scene in my WIP. And of course, don’t try this at home!
The Fire Maiden
Before night rose and a gibbous moon bloomed in the branches, the laird serves barrels of golden elixir and a banquet to sate eager watchers. His dominion is ancient, revered, a relic and ruin of glory past. Bull frogs call from green waters, and birds of the goddess bleed on the walls with cryptic messages and jesters.
Darkness arrives with candlelight and the flames leap.
Enter the Fire Maiden and her minions.
Those who beheld the dance in years past stood back knowing the heat would gust and sear.
The fire entrances.
She brings its power to life
Transforms it into a living beast
Flame scales the stone walls
Fire blooms in midair.
The blaze dances to her call
She stands in the blast
It consumes her and she laughs.