To Fuel the Fire of Faith

Brittany fort des Capucins

Photo © Thierry Marinault via Google Photosphere



I perched, bird-like, on the island’s rocky peak, invisible inside my cloud. Only Bracca could see through it. and only if he tried. When I saw the desolation, I dropped the illusion. If Bracca was still here, let him come.

The ruined sanctuary square had once bustled with gray-robed monks and flower-hued servants. I’d been tweaking their tenets, sliding them towards the true worship of Qazir. All gone now. Everything lost.

Bracca always claimed he smote for Qazir, but I’d seen his childish outbursts. What small sacrilege had provoked him this time?

Anger swelled my chest. Surprising, that the death of yet another hope could still affect me. I’d drifted too long, letting the decades rock me like waves.

If Bracca continued, we’d never fulfill our vow. We’d never be able to die.

I fanned the spark against my last tattered bit of optimism. I would find him, and end this.



Word count: 150. Written for this week;s What Pegman Saw challenge. Big thanks to Josh and Karen for hosting this wonderful writing prompt week after week — it’s my favorite! This week, Pegman takes us to Roscanvel, Brittany, a truly gorgeous part of France. Click on the link above to see what images the other participants found, and the stories they inspired. And as always, feel free to join in!

It’s especially fun to vicariously travel all around the world with Pegman these days, with my fellow virtual tourists in the Pegman family. Someday I’ll be able to travel in person again, hopefully to France again soon, but for now, this is a great improvement over staring at my own four walls!

And yes, this is a character I’ve mentioned before, who’s featured in a short story called The Vow that I am struggling to revise. We last saw him in Strayed Sign, searching for the one other person who could have helped him stop Bracca.



 

13 thoughts on “To Fuel the Fire of Faith

  1. Some lovely writing, Joy. I particularly liked “I’d drifted too long, letting the decades rock me like waves.” It’s a fascinating concept, that the MC wanted to inspire faith so that he could die. It makes me wonder what came before as well as what comes after!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for the kind comment, Penny! I’m glad it made you want to know more: that bodes well for the longer story. Without going into all the detail, “the Vow” of the story’s title turns out to be an example of “be careful what you wish for.” Due to a freakish effect from a holy vow hundreds of years ago, they found that they can’t die until their tribe succeeds in vanquishing its enemy. But they were exiled and then their whole tribe was destroyed, along with the religion that defined it So they hope that if they re-establish the religion of Qazir, this will allow them to somehow fulfill the vow.

      Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you, Rochelle, I’m glad you enjoyed it! I always hope that the flash story works on its own, but it’s also fun to be able to tell more of the story in the notes and comments, outside the strictures of the word count limit. 🙂

      Like

    • Thanks Josh – the photo was a lucky find. You might appreciate the story of the island: it’s the I^lot des Capucins, named that because of a rock that looks like a praying monk. There are contradictory accounts online — most sites claim this is a fort that was built in 1848 and destroyed in WWII. But Tripadvisor calls it a monastery. Hmm. Perhaps it was a monastery first and then a fort? Or perhaps someone saw “Capucins” and decided that would make a better tourist attraction. Hard to say, but I do love myself a good revisionist legend.

      Liked by 1 person

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