Salnaal rode her winged steed, Shayde, with the same confidence and determination she approached everything else; confidence and determination that had increased steadily over her twenty-four years of active service. Her gleaming blonde-white hair flowing in stark contrast to Shayde’s night-black mane, they rode and flew around the grunts, cries, and howls of the carousel arena, keeping both ahead and above the other combatants.
Those players in the middle of the pack had to toss the scented orb between themselves as they meandered around each other’s paths, trying to keep it in the air as long as possible whilst at the same time trying not to break the orb’s fragile casing – the loser in this particular combat being the one drenched by the pungent contents.
Salnaal noticed her would-be mate, Olstiss, on his steed, Wingrider, below her in the centre of the pack… the orb having been hurled toward him by the Knight Captain, Vent, whose face sneered through his venomous cry as he avoided breaking the weakening vessel. She manoeuvred Shayde, so she was alongside Wingrider so as to make them both descend lower when Olstiss suddenly pulled on his reins and ascended quickly.
The orb shattered into a thousand fragments as it collided with Salnaal’s side, covering both her and Shayde with the sickly-sweet smelling liquid… making her, for the first time ever, combat loser… and the arena fell silent.
It’s Six Sentence Stories time again. Denise’s prompt word this week is carousel. I looked for a different definition for this week’s word and was pleased to discover it was used centuries ago as a meaning for a training game, or ‘little war’. I merely added a few elements to it.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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