This is the final stage in voting for the winner of the Plume Award. The prize for the elected story is $50 and a full page feature in the Euphony Magazine. Read the following three stories written on the prompt “The Stars Align” and vote on your favorite at the end!

Left to Lie

Many things have been said about what might happen on that fateful day. The end of the world? The return of the gods? The titans’ freedom from their chains? Or possibly nothing at all. Maybe the humans hadn’t gone too far.

As if.

I held the swaddle close to my chest, running across the barren landscape. Sirens blaring, lights flashing, helicopter blades whirring, my legs burning. We had come here for safety and were already on the brink of extinction. I saw the ships ahead, and began to smile with relief—until I felt a tug on my ankle.

I fell forward, the weight in my arms falling to the sand and rolling, high pitched crying following.

An armored figure picked up the babe, and I screamed. I yelled and kicked and groped at the sand beneath me, trying to reach for the only thing I cared for.

The tears in my eyes faltered as I saw the fleet of ships take off.

We watched in silence, the strangers and I, as those colossal figures became mere dots in the sky.

The weak had been abandoned by the divine, for the fear of what might happen, when the stars align.

Be Careful of the Eyes in the Hills

The air is different here. It crackles with energy and magic. The mossy hills seem to roll on forever in every direction the moment you step out of the village. Eyes watch, just out of sight. Children? Faeries? Or something more sinister?

People get lost out here. They never come back. Don’t cut down that tree, a woman whispers. Don’t move the rock in the field, a man murmurs. Remember, a grandmother hisses, what happened last time. Children learn quickly, even though we would never hurt them, the innocent.

But tonight…tonight is special. A Halfling has been born, and that calls for celebration.

But first, they must be brought home. It’s far past midnight when we slip into the house. Through windows, through doors, through cracks in the wall. The baby is taken from his cradle, and into the circle. Words are chanted and the stars brighten, standing in a neat, straight line. The mortals know now: a Halfing has been brought home.

By morning, the baby has lost any memory of his mortal life. Another pair of pointed ears and sharp eyes grace the world. He will be taught the dangerous ways of the fae. 

He will be great.

200 Years of Waiting

Waiting… Always waiting.

Never changing, blurs of years of kingdoms into countries.

All gone in a flash.

This is what happens when you live 200 years

A shadow of oneself simply floating through

life with no real purpose…

1440:

A love so beautiful, so full

Marred in an instant

Lover to traitor

Dark stains on a heart

And blood, so much of it

Once a prince and now a monster

1450:

Fangs pulsing, feeling, longing for blood

Ever numb feeling

Too many years of the same

Christopher gone, everyone gone

No love left

1471:

A new kingdom

Denmark is no longer home

Anman it is called, just one of many

Numbness

1492:

Why?

Why do they hurt themselves?

Turn on each other and destroy themselves

And yet a new Christopher sets sail

Changing his small view of the world

1556:

Music a tender mercy

Yet the pain of battle still constant

1590:

Nations built, discovered, attack one another

What is the point?

1620:

The Mayflower they call it

“A new beginning”

But is it really?

1640:

Finally, the end

War in Scotland

Revolution, smell of burning flesh

Finally, time for rest

The curse is over

For the stars have aligned