Welcome to the first week of the Spring Writing Challenge!
We’re so excited to get started on these stories. It’s time to roll up your sleeves, set your fingers on your keyboard, and get writing. Will your story contain aliens? A prince in disguise? Maybe even a sweet summer romance? Whatever happens, we can’t wait to see what you come up with!
So, without further ado, here’s your very first prompt!
Week One Prompt – The Dialogue Prompt
“If you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try and stop it?”
“I just got here.”
Wait…what’s a dialogue prompt?
A dialogue prompt is a conversation between two characters. It doesn’t matter who says it, or if it takes place in the beginning, middle, or end of your story. However, one character must say the first sentence, and the second character must respond with the second sentence.
Before you start writing, there are some important rules to follow.
Writing Rules
1. Please keep the content of the stories you post to a PG rating. Please avoid real curse words. Violence/fighting should be limited and purposeful. Please do not include any spice. Moderators may remove stories and comments for any reason at any time. Moderators may remove any member from the challenge at any time.
2. Your story must be 1,000 words or less, and must contain the prompt to be counted for the challenge. You’re not required to post it in order to “win” the challenge, but if you want it to count for your team, your story must be posted by Sunday at 11:59 PM ET, and you must include your team name.
It’s time to post your story as a comment down below! We can’t wait to see all the fun directions you guys take this dialogue prompt. If you have any questions, feel free to email us at info@writers.company!
Happy Writing!
Ava,
Your story was very well written! I enjoyed reading it! 👏
Melissa
Ooh, what a fun story, girl! Fantastic job!
Wow, this is beautifully written!
I love your writing style!
Wow, I’m very impressed. The worldbuilding here feels grounded and real, the characters fleshed out, and the prompt just flows so smoothly with the rest of the narrative. Great story here!
I hope this part of something larger. I was totally sucked in.
Thanks for sharing your work. 🙂 Enjoyable read.
great opening line!
Beautiful story! Great job!
Absolutely loved it
i NEED the rest of this asap! i would love this as a book series. its excellent! The world-building is so good. you did a great job. i especially love how the characters are already full of the knowledge of the world and there is no need for any one character to outright explain things. again, have i expressed how i literally want this in my life so much!
Great details! I was brought right into the world you built!
Such a fun story! Loved the comical banter between characters
The Tale of Edrys and Eldred, by Sarah Sax (Team 1)
You may have heard the saying, “As bright-eyed and bold as Edrys.” It is a common one among mortals, and it is often used to describe women who risk everything for their loved ones. And if you have ever been to Faerie, you may know the saying, “As devoted as Eldred,” and the people of Faerie use this to describe a man dedicated to his woman.
These sayings originated a long time ago, back when the Faerie and mortal realms were much closer together. Edrys was a woman so beautiful people said she had Faerie blood. But she was a mortal, though this didn’t matter to Eldred. He watched her longingly as she came through the woods, hunting, picking berries, or gathering mushrooms and herbs. He was of Faerie; his home was the living palace of the forest, called the Aelfwolde.
Edrys lived in a village near these woods, but her people and the people of the Aelfwolde never mingled. She knew which parts of the forest to avoid. Eldred, however, would catch glimpses of her sometimes as he rode along, and he began leaving his people’s forest to watch her. He was too shy to approach her, however, for there was something so wild and beautiful and free about mortals—a different wild and beautiful and free than he himself was.
But one night the two finally met. They were walking through the trees and encountered one another, and what happened then no one knows. But Edrys returned to her village with eyes sparkling like the stars, and Eldred returned to the Aelfwolde as silent as if he’d seen the gods.
After that, the two met often. Edrys never took him to her home, and Eldred never took her to the Aelfwolde; neither did they speak of this to their people. No one really knows how long this lasted or what all they did. But one way or another, suspicions were raised, and the secret was discovered at last.
They all met in the woods—Edrys, Eldred, and their families, right on the boundary between the normal woods and the Aelfwolde. The humans accused Eldred of enchanting their daughter. Eldred’s people said Edrys was a witch, trying to overpower their own. Edrys protested this was not so, they were merely in love. Eldred said the same, but added he could never marry Edrys, for her life was so short that her death would break his heart. And Edrys said she could never marry Eldred, for she was mortal and his world was not for her. She looked at Eldred and said, for the good of their people, they must never see each other again. And Eldred agreed.
But this meant little to their families. The humans spoke of Faerie enchantments, Faerie spoke of mortal witches, and war threatened to break out. Eldred knew something must be done, for his people would obliterate the humans and he would not have this happen, for Edrys’ sake. He took his people to the mortal world, to make a treaty. Little peacemaking was done however, and it seemed the war would break out then and there.
In the midst of this, Edrys and Eldred faced one another as if they were the only ones in the room.
“We swore to stay apart,” Eldred said. “We agreed our people should not mingle. Why is there still hostility?”
“If war is still the outcome,” Edrys agreed, “why did we part at all?” And she cried to her people to stop their madness, adding if they went to war, they would be slaughtered. Eldred too spoke to his people, begging them to hold back from the mortals. Still, this did little good.
“The Faerie folk think themselves above us!” sneered the one side. “The mortals think too highly of themselves,” said the other. And so it went. Eldred was in despair at his people’s stubbornness, but Edrys was angry.
“Why do they not listen?” she said to Eldred. “Did our promises mean nothing to them? We broke our hearts for people who do not care.”
“We must make them care,” said Eldred.
“Why should we care?” said Edrys. “Leave them to destroy one another. If you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try to stop it?”
“I just got here,” said Eldred, looking around the room. “I know very little of the mortal realm. But I know of Faerie.”
And while everyone was still shouting, Edrys and Eldred joined hands and walked from the room. They mounted their horses and rode away, riding faster and faster until they were like shooting stars. When they noticed, some from both their peoples rode after them and were hard-pressed to keep up.
They found them at last, on shores of the sea at the end of the world. It was night, and the moon left a silvery path across the waves. Edrys and Eldred stood in the sand, still hand in hand.
Something about the moment kept their pursuers from going right up to them. Or maybe they were exhausted from their ride. Whatever it was, they stayed back and called, “Where are you going?”
Edrys turned, and even though it was night, they could see her eyes sparkling. “We go across the sea,” she said.
And they mounted their horses and rode the moonpath until they vanished from sight. For those who can cross the moonpath reach a world beyond the sea. It is a long journey, and the path is uneven from the waves. No enchantments can be sustained on such a path. And it was this that proved, to men and to Faerie, that Edrys and Eldred truly loved each other.
So the threat of war was ended, and the story of Edrys and Eldred was told far and wide. No one doubts they made it across the sea and now live happily ever after, far from both Faerie and mortality, knowing their families are at peace.
Normally I don’t like this type of “magical genre” story but you have done a good job with this. It really kept my interest. Thank you for writing!
Thank you, I’m so glad you liked it!
Fun story! I like your take on the prompt–it felt fairly well integrated into the narrative.
The story gave off major Beren and Luthien vibes–very cool! Good job!
Thank you! That was definitely an inspiration, though I hope to flesh out the story a bit more later.
Ooh, I totally agree with Noah, I loved Beren and Luthien’s story, and I immediately felt the same way here! The language was so beautiful, especially when you said Eldred came back silent as if he’s seen the gods.
Thank you! It’s actually going to be a myth set within a bigger project of mine, so I’m hoping to flesh out more details like that in the future.
To Change the World, by Ava Murbarger
P.S.- sorry I missed the meeting, we were out of town. I hope to be at the next one!!
The sky was bleeding again.
Rust-colored clouds hung over the City like bruises, pulsing faintly. Rael kept her eyes fixed on them, one hand on the rail of the Watchers’ Tower. Her gloves were too thin. The steel was cold enough to bite.
Behind her, a door creaked open.
“You’re late,” she said without turning.
Boots scraped against the stone. A new recruit, probably. They sent one every week now. Fresh eyes, fresh loyalty.
“I got lost,” the boy said. He sounded too young to carry the badge. Too soft to hold a blade. “Sorry.”
She turned and looked at him.
Dust-colored coat, too long in the sleeves. Wide eyes. Not from the City, then. One of the Outer Rings. Maybe even farther. She sighed.
“If you know something bad is going to happen,” she said, “do you have to try and stop it?”
The boy blinked. “I just got here.”
“Well, obviously.” She crossed her arms.
He shifted nervously on his feet.
Rael turned back to the cityscape. “The answer is yes, by the way. At least, if you’re cursed with a conscience.”
He joined her at the rail. Together they watched the distant flicker of drones weaving patterns in the smog. A red warning rune glowed briefly on the horizon, then faded. Rael knew what it meant. The Reclamation Agents were moving again. Soon, another neighborhood would vanish.
“Why do you do this?” the boy asked.
She laughed without humor. “Because no one else will. Because the High Council stopped caring two winters ago. Because someone has to.”
A long pause. Then, “Is it true the Watchers can see the future?”
“We read the signs,” she said. “Patterns in weather. Seismic anomalies. Political shifts. The Council says it’s superstition.” She paused. “But when the streets burn exactly seven hours after the rats vanish, over and over again, you stop calling it chance.”
He was silent. Good. Maybe he was listening.
“You said you got lost. But you still came up here. Why?”
“I heard the bells.” He hesitated. “They said you can’t hear them unless you’re meant to.”
Rael glanced at him. The brass bell on the tower hadn’t rung in years. She narrowed her eyes.
“Name?”
“Wren.”
“That’s not your real name.”
“It is now.”
She smirked. “Fine, Wren. Welcome to Watcher’s Hill. Welcome to the losing side.”
Another alarm rune lit the smog. Closer this time.
Rael pulled her scope from her belt and scanned the eastern edge of the city. “Sector Four. They’re burning the food lines again.”
“That’s the second time this week,” Wren said quietly.
She lowered the scope. “Third.”
He didn’t speak for a long time. Then he said, “My sister was there.”
Rael’s fingers tightened around the rail. She didn’t ask if the girl had survived. That wasn’t the kind of world they lived in anymore.
Instead, she reached into her coat and handed Wren a folded map, inked with lines and red X’s.
“There’s a storm tunnel under the old trainyard,” she said. “It’s not on any schematics, and it’ll get you to Sector Four faster than any street. But it’s dark. And crawling.”
Wren took the map with trembling fingers. “Why are you helping me?”
Rael looked at him, really looked. The wide eyes weren’t wide with fear, not completely. It was fire. Just hidden under the ash.
“Because sometimes the only thing worse than seeing the future,” she said softly, “is doing nothing to change it.”
Wren nodded. His jaw set. “Then I’ll go.”
Rael watched as he turned, vanishing back into the tower’s dark. When the door slammed shut behind him, the bell gave a soft chime. Just once.
And far below, the wind began to shift.