Excerpt From Erika Willaert’s Sci-Fi Short Story Titania

A fabulously fulfilling friandise

Excerpt from Erika Willaert’s Science Fiction Short Story Titania from the WORDPLAY 2013 Anthology:WORDPLAY Cover

Part Four: Insight

             The Scripts feel delicate in my hands, fragile keys to a future I have held in my mind’s eye for a lifetime. Now that the power of choice is within my grasp, it singes my flesh like a burning coal I wield mercilessly in my palm, leaving scorched question marks on my skin. The folds within beckon my desire to know, at all costs, what my ultimate task shall be. I am bound by law to the words contained in the scroll; my fear of the unknown has grown to become unbearable at this point. Quivering slightly, I stare in disbelief as I smooth the creases with the rough tips of my fingers, my mouth agape.

            Empty. A blank page. Nothing.

            A silent scream tears from my throat. How could this be?

            If I speak, I risk revealing the tremor that erodes the last shred of hope I carry to answer your calling. I can still feel my brother’s breath against the delicate curve of my ear as he urged, “Promise me this: do as she commands. You will know she is the one. Do not question; simply allow.”

            It is you he made me promise to obey, and it is to you whom I must now admit defeat.

            “Mother. I have failed you.”

            “It is I who failed you, Nova.”

            I startle. “How do you know my birth name?”

            “Because I am the one who gave it to you.”

            “But my brother told me – “

            “That I was gone before we named you? That I have no right to speak it? Be that as it may, I still carry the guilt of naming you.”

            “Guilt?” I wear my confusion like a cloak, hooded and suspicious. My faith is beginning to slip from my grasp, doubt threatening to overtake me. I take a step back. My guard rears up in a protective shield around my heart.

            “Show yourself.”

            A mild chuckle rumbles through the trees. “Indeed. Very well, my daughter. If you insist; as you wish.”

            A shimmer of light flickers momentarily in the darkness. Blinking, I raise my sightline until it is level with the slope of the landscape.

* * *

Don’t miss hearing Erika read at the JUzDIzRTS Author Event Saturday August 17th starting at 1pm!


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