#first time i wrote with a promp outside of a comp

[amaya-writes]

The Healer: A Short Story

Recently I’ve gotten into using writing prompts to create short stories and I came across an account on Insta (@_writing_ideas_) which had an interesting prompt that I really wanted to work on! 

Link to the prompt: https://www.instagram.com/p/CRp62yegCp0/ 

“How dare you cross my threshold, witch?”

Julia narrowed her gaze as she stepped further into the blue and gold chamber, ignoring the numerous guards and their intimidating staffs as she reserved her anger for the figure clad in navy robes and gold threads with a scar across his cheek. 

"Perhaps if you refrained from forcing my soldiers to return to the med bay as soon as they leave, you would have been given prior notice for this confrontation.”

Julius Storman was a lot of things, but daft certainly wasn’t one of them. 

He had examined enough warriors over his years to recognise a ticking bomb when he saw one. The healer before him had crossed treacherous battlefields for this conversation, and she certainly wouldn’t leave without it. 

“Leave us.”

The room of lieutenants and colonels knew their general well enough to not question his intentions and immediately scrambled out of the golden gates without hesitation.

One of the younger soldiers had the curtsey to close the doors behind him; something Julius would come to be thankful for in the near future. 

“This is a war, not a tea party. Soldiers die and get hurt, and if you can’t deal with that, then leave.”

His voice sent shivers down her back and words felt like daggers piercing her heart. Julia was certain she would have been cowering where she stood if it weren’t for the memories of injured boys huddling in a corner of her med bay as they whispered about the corpses of their loved ones.

The general was certainly intimidating, but her empathy was too strong to be forgotten due to one heartless taunt. 

“Of course, that is all a monster like you would think of. For you, war means death and anything except victory don’t matter, right?”

Perspective. That was all it took to flip the switch; to change one’s thoughts, and in turn, their actions. 

Emotion. The one ability the scarred young general had lost due to the war and become a stranger to. 

And Julia. A tall, calculative healer with a tongue as deft as her hand. 

That was all it took for Julius Stroman to unlock the locked doors sealing away a certain teenager with hopes of changing the world for the better. To reconcile the ambitions of an innocent child with dreams of bringing glory and bliss to Retopia. 

But alas, an unlocked door wasn’t nearly enough to have little Lee navigate the dark abyss before him, and resulted in more damage than benefit. Julius’s golden eyes darkened as he glared at the bold woman before him. 

“You know nothing of who I am.”

A sneer developed across his face as the warrior enveloped in gold stepped towards the ragged healer, clutching her arm in disdain as he continued speaking. 

“Or of what I want.”

She laughed. 

It wasn’t the demeaning, cold chuckle followed by mockery that he was used to, no, it was different. 

The emotion was different. 

Julia’s laugh held a disappointment that made the general’s heart clench in pain. The way she shook her head and clenched her fists, the way she sucked in deep bouts of air and exhaled with an airy chortle; it was all too much for the heartless warrior. 

Throughout their encounter, the deft healer had never once abandoned her wit, aware of exactly what Storman was capable of doing to her if she crossed the thin line she was tracing. There was a difference between bravery and stupidity, she knew that. 

But in her moment of confusion and dismay, the tall brunette replaced her rationality and reasoning with rashness and did the only thing she could think of. 

She slapped him. 

The poor, unruly healer slapped Retopia’s golden general. 

The harsh smack echoed across the extravagant chamber even after Julia’s rationality returned to her side with a red palm. 

Horror briefly flashed across her features as she recoiled in shock and let lose a series of slurs. Being rude to him was one thing, but abusing the general on his side of the border was worse than a death wish.  

Julius remained as still as a statue. 

His head was thrown to the side, showcasing a red handprint for Julia and anyone else near his camp’s golden gates. The general’s perfect curls and sneer were amiss as he sucked in a deep breath, finally registering what had just occurred.

An arm clad in blue chiffon slowly rose from his side to briefly trace the red mark covering his scar. 

For a moment they remained that way, with Julia regretting ever crossing the border and Julius wondering just how harsh of a wakeup call he needed to sympathise with the Grimorians. 

"Sorry.”

If the slap had shocked him, the apology appalled Julius beyond measure. 

It was his turn to stagger back as the general quizzically stared at the enigma before him and vocalized his thoughts. 

“Why?”

Julia scoffed as she met his golden gaze, the fire and adrenaline slowly returning to her with each word. 

“It might surprise you to know some people don’t live to hurt others.”

She almost got whiplash from how quickly the general before her switched between innocent confusion and cold ire, but even as Julius towered before her, Julia stood her ground and awaited a response. 

The young mage had stormed through a battlefield for this moment, and she would rather die than return without results. 

“What would you know of war?”

“Just because I’m a healer doesn’t mean I’m weak or soft or a coward. It means that I’m brave enough to get my hands dirty and rebuild everything that you destroy.”

Julia scoffed as she crossed her arms and curled her fists, wondering whether two slaps were too much to get away with. 

“Your only talent is breaking mages into pieces with no regard for their situation. You’re a monstrous weapon and the golden jewel of Retopia, but are you even worth anything if there’s no war?”

Julius had faced a lot of things over the past twenty years. 

He had committed the worst of crimes and stolen numerous lives without question, but somehow a peculiarly enraged healer had evoked emotions and questions that the bloodiest battles couldn’t. 

And that scared him. 

Julius Storman had dedicated his life to his country ever since his father fell prey to the Grimorians. He had vowed to end the age-old war between the countries and forever show the magically gifted mages what Retopia was capable of and promised to never cease or surrender until he had succeeded. 

Julius Storman had promised his country everything he had and never once questioned their intentions. 

So why was he doing so now?

Julia sensed his unease. She saw the way his brows furrowed and shoulders dropped from their guarded stance. She noticed the clench of his jaw and the slight tilt of his head, and somehow, felt just as bad for the clueless general as she did for her comrades. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because it is the right thing to do.”

She rolled her eyes and rephrased her question; approaching the situation differently. 

“Why are you so keen on stealing our magic? On killing our queen and massacring our people?”

Steal? Massare? The words were as foreign to him as the mage before him but stoked the same flame of curiosity as she did. 

“What are you on about, witch? The soldiers of Retopia are only saving our people from your magical traps.”

It struck them at the same time. The stupidity of his reasoning, the slight doubt at the back of nearly every Retopian’s mind as they struck their spears through the Grimorian’s hearts, the sheer rage and slight fear radiating from the enemy’s armies as they fought for something the Retopians could never understand. 

“Your king-”

“-It is all a lie?”

A/N: We all love our cliffhangers! Honestly, I’m pretty happy with this story, what do you guys think?