Flash Fiction - The Unbroken
This is a Flash Fiction I wrote that is set in the Storm Bringer’s Folly Universe.
Caster Lustrian Armand Quinte
Unbroken - Cast of the Die
His breath hitched.
His fingers curled.
He raised his fist.
He threw his hand.
“18!” The announcer roared with the crowd.
“He’s cheating, I tells ya!” His opponent stood and tried to flip the table, only to stumble as the dice board refused to move.
“Caster wins again!”
“Beers on me tonight, lads!” Caster shouted in his deep baritone voice. In celebration, he stood with a flourish, stumbling himself as he raised his ninth tankard of the night. The crowd roared once more at his victory, chanting his name. The beer flowed from taps, the women sang and danced, and Caster drank anything that was shoved his way. He was the king of dice and always had been ever since he first played in the alleys of Ely. He could still remember the scent of mildew, cat piss, and salt that always seemed to permeate the area. And the fish, Gods, the smell of —
“Caster!” The large man turned in his seat to glare down at the rough-looking man.
He had to voice his opinion on the matter. “You look like shit, man. Go buy yourself some new clothes.” He tossed a few coins to the loser of their game and moved to turn back, but the man interrupted him again by clamping a hand down on his shoulder. The man stood on his toes and whispered in his ear.
“You’re one of them adventurers, ain’t ya?”
“Your breath reeks.” Caster spat out, his voice sharpening to an edge.
“I call you a cheater, boy.”
The larger man shrugged the arm off and turned back to his drink and party. “Drop it, lads; I don’t take kindly to idiots.”
A warning shout rang throughout the room, but the chair came down too fast against his back. His solid form shattered the improvised weapon, bringing a momentary silence to the bar, with only the sound of Caster’s chair scraping as he rose.
“I warned you, lads.” A bottle smashed against his face next, but not even a scratch was made. The crowd parted as he thrust his hand out, wrapping the large hand around the bottle smasher’s face. He lifted the man with ease, stepped forward, and threw the man towards the entrance. He glanced at the three men and noted their looks; Caster didn’t know their names, which he hated; he hated not knowing the names of the men he would kill.
“You rotten varmint!” Halfway through coming up with nicknames for these idiots, one of them tried to punch him in the face. To his point, the man succeeded, but he immediately screamed in pain as his bones splintered on impact.
Caster smirked and wrapped the man in a headlock, pulling him close while grabbing the — “You need a name. How about — Bumpkin?” He grabbed the man by the throat and dragged the two of them towards the entrance, watching closely as the first man slowly stood while clutching his head. Caster grinned and kicked the man in the chest, sending him flying through the doors with a laugh.
He bent and crossed through the doors, “I’m not sure what to call you, but this one—” He released the man with the broken hand and shouldered him to the middle of the street. “I’ll call you Punchy!”
A sharp pain spread through his abdomen, and the large man finally let go of the loser, glancing down to see a small knife sticking out of his side. Caster laughed, “Hah! A toothpick, my thanks! I needed a new one.” He ripped the knife out, worsening the damage, before flicking it easily into the hand of the still unnamed man, pinning the man to the ground and causing him to scream.
He kicked Punchy as the man tried to stand and smirked as his ribs crumbled to dust.
“You fucking monster!” Bumpkin spat at him and tried to stand, but Caster merely raised his foot and placed it on the man’s shoulder before leaning down.
“Which of us was the one to interrupt another man’s meal?” He slowly began to add pressure, causing the tattered man’s arms to shake. “I am Caster Lustrian Armand Quinte! I hail from the Franctian Guild, ranked 11th in the nation and 3rd in the Unbroken Sub-Guild! What fool would dare take on an Adventurer!?”
“A — A fool, with a—a poisoned knife.” The man stuttered as his arms shook, but this did not stop him from glancing up with a crooked smile.
“Poison?” Caster lifted his leg and stumbled back. “No, this can’t be!”
Bumpkin smirked and laughed. “It is! You’ll die in minutes!” His laughter echoed through the street.
“No! No, this isn’t true!” The adventurer grabbed at his chest with a look of horror on his face. “You can’t have picked a fight with me as such idiots!”
“Yes! Yes, we did! You’ll die in agony!” The man laughed and laughed, and — what Caster said clicked in the man’s mind. “We what?”
“You’re idiots, complete and utter fools, lads! I am an Unbroken! Poison is a midnight snack or something to quench our thirst! You’re fools!” The adventurer was laughing loudly as he stepped forward, shouting to the winds. “I can’t believe idiots like you truly exist.”
Caster stepped forward, raising his foot high into the air, before bringing it down on the man’s back, crushing his spine. His eyes moved to the shaking form of the first man and realized he was dying from the poison.
The man snorted and turned his back on them, stepping into the bar with a stony face, staring back at the onlookers; not a sound was made until, finally, he raised his fist into the air with a roar. “Beers still on me!” The crowd that had gathered roared in approval.
He breathed out a laugh
His fingers slackened.
He let down his hand.
He was Unbroken.
I hope everyone enjoyed this flash fiction; I’m honestly thinking of doing this once a week, expanding the world of Storm Bringer’s Folly. It’s a massive world, but it only takes place through a few character’s eyes, so I think this would be a nice way of going about things. Anyways, until next time, have a good one!