Flash Fiction: Lies

I've been working hard on my book for the last bit, but whenever I feel like taking a break, I have been writing flash fiction again. So, what better thing to share than a small piece I wrote recently and really liked? It's actually a moment between two NPCs from the Pathfinder game that I'm currently running. I modified the setting to fit the world I write in, and it's been a ton of fun. That's a whole different blog post, though.

Lies

Garet slumped to the ground in front of Fyni's statue, his legs unable to hold him up any longer.

"What is the problem now?" Asked the voice that always spoke to him when he entered the Goddess of Revenge's temple.

"I'm not dying," he choked out, confusion, fear, and anger swirling through his chest.

The voice didn't respond immediately. But when it did, it was hesitant. "I would think that would be cause for celebration."

"Taby was poisoning me." Just speaking the words—giving them life—threatened to overwhelm Garet.

"How did you find out?"

"Some friends caught her in the act and she confessed." The playwright thought for a moment and then asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to, "Did you know?"

"Of course not." The voice sounded indignant. And guilty.

He closed his eyes, defeated. "Why didn't you tell me?"

There was no response for a few minutes, and Garet wondered if the other man had left. Then, finally, a reply came, "I could do no more than just keep you alive."

"What does that even mean?"

"That is not relevant."

He couldn't help the angry shout that burst from him as his body straightened up in righteous fury, "It's my life we're talking about! It's relevant to me!"

"I had an antidote keeping you alive while I tried to figure out who was attempting to kill you." The answer was so quiet that he had to strain to hear.

Garet released a pained breath and slumped back down, back hitting the stone wall, letting the words hang in the air. "I just feel like I've wasted so much time. I had all these regrets when I thought I was going to die. Now, I'm going to live, and I've got nothing to show for it."

"What do you mean?"

"I let Risa leave without a fight. I moved away from all my family. I've been writing the plays I think will earn me acclaim. I wanted my name to be known all over. Instead, someone in my troupe tried to kill me for a year."

"Garet," the voice had gone soft and compassionate, "You are going to live. You could change these things."

The playwright let out a laugh spiked with bitterness. "You know, it would make a pretty good story. A man is being poisoned for a year, only to find out it was a friend committing the crime and then gets a second chance at his miserable life. Although it's a little different when it's my life that was on the line."

"You will figure it out. You always do." The response was hesitant.

Garet let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Was that a compliment? Besides, how would you know? You've never seen one of my plays; you've said that over and over you have no interest in 'wasting your time'."

Silence stretched out between them before a whisper floated through the darkened temple, "I lied. I have been to them all."

*art made by Canva’s ‘Text To Image’