Category: Absurdist Fantasy

Absurdist Fantasy Short Fiction

The Value of Horns

When it comes to trolls, horns are paramount to one’s identity. More than a badge of status, they transcend mere ornamentation. For trolls, size matters—the bigger the better—especially when it comes to their horns. Although, the shape, curve, twist, and hue are no less important than the length and girth. Troll horns are versatile, multifaceted in their purpose. They are used for combat, for attracting mates, for intimidation and glamour. Horns are at the center of troll fashion and, in some tribes, even of great spiritual significance. For trolls, be they of the cave or forest or mountain clans, horns…

Absurdist Fantasy Short Fiction

Red Town

I dreamed of a crimson river. In my mind, I willingly drowned in its sanguine flow. I meditated on deep vermilion, lingering on ripe apples and plump cherries. Oh, how I longed to pluck them, to hold them up to the sun, to study their skin, their flesh, to savor their scarlet, blush, and rose. I closed my eyes, conjuring visions of boiled lobsters on a bed of rhubarb. I turned my head to the sky and hoped for rain, miraculous and strange, blood-red droplets of Merlot. I dwelled on these things: searing hues in the belly of a smith’s…

Absurdist Fantasy Short Fiction

Drunk and Disorderly

“Grand Master! Grand Master! Calyan is drunk again!” I had been reading a rather interesting book one of my protégés found in the depths of the library. It certainly ought to have been burned centuries ago to avoid exciting the novices, soI didn’t appreciate the interruption. “Grand Master?” The voice was babbling on about something I couldn’t muster an interest in, but as it did certain elements of the original sentence wormed their way into the higher centers of my brain. In particular the words ‘Calyan’ and ‘Drunk’. I stood with a sigh and opened the door. On the other…

Absurdist Fantasy Short Fiction

Old Sorcery

In the days of yore, when the old, strong sorcery was more than myth, spells required blood, their potency strengthened by the lives put into them, their power amplified by the offering of souls. Magic made heroes of men, and many men, heroic or otherwise, met their deaths at the wrong end of magic. There were those born with the gift of wizardry, natural enchanters blessed with inherent talents. There were those, too, who passively benefited from trinkets imbued by the sorcery of others. It cannot be overlooked: there is a great divide between the man who launches fire from…