Writing Prompts and Stories

Prompt #2

Write a story including a set of three things- a special rock, the color black, walking through clouds whilst on a mountain.

For days, a hooded figure traveled on foot through the mountains, climbing higher and higher, until the wind bit at her face, turning her lips blue and making her skin pale and frostbitten, mirroring the strands of her hair. Ice lined her lavish winter coat: the only coverage preventing her from going comatose from the cold.

Clouds drifted in and out, providing glimpses of the scenery that she left behind and of the other jagged peaks covered in white dust in the distance.

She staggered along a mountain path with steep downward ridges on either side which would lead to certain death if she fell. The mountains showed no indication of life beyond the cold wind and stark snow, not even of lichen growing on the boulders and rocks, and she was running low on rations.

This didn't worry her; she knew she was getting close to her destination. The precious cargo in her pocket trembled as if sensing that as well.

The path began to widen as she went on, and eventually jagged slopes rose upward rather than down. Then she came across meticulously placed boulders. They stood at her height and higher, smoothed and oval shaped, sprinkled amidst the path, to the point where she even had to walk around them. One commonality tied them all together: they were entirely black, darker than the night itself. The stones gave off a beguiling attribute as if they gripped her very soul; she could look away, but their presence enticed her attention, and lingered in her mind. The artifact in her pocket began to ring, a high beautiful note, steady like that of a singing bowl or of a glass of wine that someone trailed their fingers around.

The cloaked woman dipped her fingers into the leather pockets of her pants, and drew out The Stone. It was the complete opposite of the black stones littering the mountain path. It was breathtakingly white and perfectly spherical, seeming so bright it was almost difficult to look at, and instead of drawing in energy, it emitted it. She could feel its power tingling through her hand, moving down to the tips of her toes.

In response, the towering black boulders let out various single notes as she passed them with The Stone in her hand. What she found the most intriguing was the splashes of colors that slowly dripped onto them, seemingly from nowhere. Visual symphonies of white shimmering liquid rose to the surface of their black casing, like the making of a watercolor painting. The molten minerals, layered with hues between light and dark, hinged with gold and silver, were spreading, flowing, and unfurling like budding flowers.

Continuing forward and spellbound, she looked behind her and saw the bright colors on the oval boulders retracting as the distance between The Stone and them grew. She continued to be entranced in the catalytic reactions as she travelled along the path.

The sky above her turned into a dark void with a rippling effect of pale droplets, like a dark ocean in place of the atmosphere. Of when that occurred she had no idea. The feeling of existing outside of reality pierced her. Time yawned into what felt like days. Weeks. That was how she knew she finally had entered the realm of the Liakire: a place that could only be entered by those in possession of The Stone, or by those who have obtained unnatural powers.

Eventually, she reached the end of the tunnel, although she didn't know when exactly it had become that, and peered out into a vast valley walled in by mountains, very similar to what had been on the other side of the tunnel- but filled with life. She could see the sky again. From the height of her viewpoint she saw that there were pools of sapphire water, vibrant flowered vegetation, berried bushes, and tall ebony trees with leaves the color of the stars. The musical sound of living creatures penetrated her ears, and she searched with her eyes to find just one.