No. 45/100 flash fiction stories

Lyra could smell that it was hopeless. 

Yes, smell. You didn’t have to be around too many Drin in your life before you recognized their distinct smell, but after Lyra’s extensive experience with (read: harassment by) the creatures, she could detect just how many there were by the sheer smell of them. 

“Twenty-two,” Lyra whispered, stepping backwards until she felt Magnus at her back. 

“I told you, it doesn’t work like that,” Magnus sighed, the hurry of anxiety lingering at the edge of his tone.

“Yes it does. I was right back on Dexania, wasn’t I?” 

“That doesn’t count!” 

Lyra took his hand. “Magnus, deep breaths…” 

As he inhaled deeply through his nose, Lyra shoved her own worry to the side and focused on her senses to tell her what chances they had. A low rattling noise, almost imperceptible, surrounded them on all sides—the Drin’s battle cry. Above, nothing helpful, only this planet’s excuse for trees, which were nothing more than giant, floppy blades of grass with no trunks, branches, or leaves. 

That left only one option. 

“Charges?” Lyra asked. 

Magnus shifted away from her for a moment to reach into his pack and draw out a glowing purple orb that perfectly fit in the palm of his hand. “One left.” 

Lyra met his eyes and was pleased to see focused resolve rather than worry. There was a time and a place for healthy fear, but it wasn’t in the middle of battle. 

“And the tablet?” 

Magnus patted his bag. “Secure.” He clicked some extra straps in place before settling the pack on his shoulders again and locking it across his chest. 

Lyra nodded. “Good. If there’s one species we don’t want to get a hold of the Shapeshifter’s Tablet, it’s the Drin.”

“Agreed.” Magnus nodded and squeezed the charge. Its glow brightened and it emanated a low hum. He stared hard at it, frowning. 

“What?” Lyra asked. 

The hint of a smile played on Magnus’ lips as he looked up at her. “I think I just had a stupidly great idea.” 

A minute later, Lyra was sure about the “stupid” part. Not so sure about the “great” part. 

“This is never going to work!” Lyra hissed. She felt her grapple give a little and looked up at where the hook was pierced through a bent “tree” stalk, holding her suspended in midair from her belt. The flesh of the grassy stalk was thick enough to hold her up, but not for long. Already, the skin was tearing around the hook, and any second now it would give completely and send her plummeting on top of the bloodthirsty Drin. 

“Just a few more seconds!” Magnus said from his identical position beside her, his voice barely above a whisper yet charged with excitement. She would never understand how he got so worried over the simplest of things and yet felt no fear while performing ludicrous feats like this. 

Lyra steeled herself and dared to look down. The ground seemed to shift twenty feet below, but she blinked and focused. She wasn’t scared. She just…didn’t like the idea of breaking all her bones from a fall. 

The Drin swarmed beneath her, though with their centipede-like bodies so close to the ground and their round heads not suited for looking upward, they hadn’t spotted Lyra and Magnus yet. Instead, they were converging on the charge, which Magnus had left activated on the ground. Lyra silently counted them. Twenty. That meant there were two more lurking nearby somewhere. 

Magnus’ whispered voice carried from a few feet away: “Three…two…one…” 

Suddenly, the space below Lyra exploded in a purple puff of smoke. The detonation was nearly silent, but it sent a powerful shockwave regardless. Lyra’s tree shook, and her grappling hook finally came free. She gasped and spread her arms, but there was nothing to grab onto—

Except for Magnus, who locked his fingers around her wrist. Lyra was only relieved for a moment before she realized the foolishness of what he’d done. 

“Wait—!” she called, but it was far too late. With Lyra’s added weight, Magnus’ hook broke free from the tree, too, and together, they fell straight down into the purple cloud. Lyra curled her body up tight, held her breath, and squeezed her eyes shut. Before she had time to wonder how much it would hurt, she landed. 

On the squishy body of a Drin. 

It was the most unpleasant sensation Lyra had ever experienced, like squashing a massive bug with her whole body. She wanted to gag but determinedly didn’t breathe in the smoke from the charge, which was almost as deadly as the charge itself. She let gravity do its work as she rolled off one dead Drin and onto another until she made it to the bottom of the heap and out of the smoke. 

Lyra lay flat on the ground and took in a deep breath as her vision swam. She shut her eyes and breathed again. Nausea churned in her stomach. 

“Lyra?” 

For a moment, she was comforted by the sound of Magnus’ voice, but then she remembered something critical and wasn’t pleased at all. She snapped her eyes open and glared at him. 

Because, just as she had suspected, two very much alive Drin were rearing up over Magnus’ back, about to strike with their long, sharp fangs. 

Dizziness aside, Lyra pushed herself off the ground and slammed into Magnus, rolling them both to the side just as the Drin pounced. Without missing a beat, she sprang to her feet, grabbed her blaster, and fired off a wild shot without even aiming. 

The two Drin immediately flopped to the ground with matching smoking holes in their heads. 

“Twenty-two,” Lyra growled, turning back to see Magnus staring with his mouth open. “I said twenty-two.” 

Magnus slowly sat up, blinking rapidly, his shoulders slack. 

Lyra sighed. “Do you have the tablet, at least?” 

Magnus reached over his shoulder and nodded. “Yep.” 

Lyra stared. Magnus stared back. The silence stretched on. 

“Fine!” Magnus exclaimed, jumping to his feet with his hands raised. “I’ll never doubt your superior nose again. Promise.” 

Lyra gave a curt nod of approval. 

“But you have to admit,” Magnus continued, “that plan was pretty great.” 

“‘Pretty great’ as in ‘almost got us killed in three different ways,’ sure.” Lyra rolled her eyes. “There were much better ways to get rid of them.” 

“But none so thrilling!” 

Lyra offered her best deadpan look. She sighed and holstered her blaster, then stretched out her arms and legs. They were a little sore, but that was infinitely better than broken. 

“You’re lucky I’m stuck with you,” she muttered as she tromped toward Magnus. 

“I love you, too,” Magnus said with a tireless grin. 

And for the first time since the attack started, Lyra smiled. 

. . .

I have a list of characters and stories that I’ve written about before and want to expand on in the future. When I wrote the original version of this story for Writeober back in 2020, Magnus and Lyra (originally Selene) immediately went on that list. One of these days, I hope to expand on their sci-fi treasure hunting adventures in a series of books!

Happy writing!
-E.J.

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