Hey, guys, so I wanted to give this fandom some creative writing prompts for those who are stuck or just want to try something new. You can use these words for word or just take whatever feelings or themes you get from these and write about that. Change the character if it suits your fancy. Whatever. This is just to prompt you to write whatever it is that comes out its all good. If you do use use these word for word, close to the main theme, or heck if it inspires you to write anything. I'd be curious to know what and I'd love to read it. Shoot me a Pm with the link you leave a review where I can find you and your story. If you'd like to simply review on my drabbles themselves, I'd appreciate it to, but it's not necessary. If you have a recommendation of character or theme that you would liek to see next, let me know. I am as willing to take inspiration as give it. It's a two way street you know? As writers we feed off each other.
Please enjoy this first drabble/prompt.
The grass had been trampled down to dirt. What remained was either black with ash or red with blood. By now most of the bodies had been burned – given their hero's rights. It helped with the smell. The sacred fires able to change an acrid smell to something so sweet it could make a person cry. However, to Travis, the smoke did nothing to cover the smell of the battle. He could still smell all of the sweat and blood just as well as he could when he was fighting in the middle of the fray. The ringing of metal and the cries of monsters and his fellow campers were still ringing in his ears as loud as thunder.
Travis stopped at the base of the hill. Here the field was still littered with signs of the battle. The most lives had fallen here than any other location in the battle. The dead had been carried away, but a broken spear or a chip of armor could still be found here and there. As Travis stared at the ground, scanning for the discarded equipment, he noticed the gold dust lying among the grass. He was filled with such a sudden, intense rage it nearly knocked him to the ground. How come monsters had such a beautiful death – a shower of gold – while heroes were left to die in gruesome, crimson painted imitations of life? How could that be fair in any way? Especially since monsters could just come back and mortals were just gone. Travis let out a howl of rage and he drew out his sword from his belt. He still hadn't bothered to change out of his armor. He rammed his sword into the ground until he couldn't see the gold dust any longer and then he kept on going. It was until his angry energy had left him and he fell to the ground did he stop.
Travis rolled way from his sword before he sat up. In the grass right next to his feet was an old helmet. His hands shook as he reached over to pick it up. The metal was cool against his skin. Other the fraying hairs of the plume and a spot of dust the helmet was in perfect condition. Travis recognized the helmet immediately. He could have identified it in a pitch black room and his hands tied behind his back. It had belonged to his brother. He hugged the helmet to his chest so tightly it hurt and burst into a fierce fit of tears. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.