This week's 300-word flash fiction piece is inspired by Caralyn Young's lovely picture:
What follows is a bit of commentary on the constraints of power.
The Goddess and the Sprite
The goddess Izara spread her wings wide.
"Whom do we have here?" She said to the sprite who landed in her cupped hands.
Skittish, the sprite simply stared up at Izara.
"At least tell me your name, Little One."
With a voice breathy and scared, the sprite replied, "Whisp."
"What a nice name. It's perfect for you."
"Thanks." Whisp blushed a bright pink. "I picked it myself."
Izara looked surprised. "You picked your own name?"
Whisp's voice gained strength. "Of course." She shrugged. "I was tired of the old one. I only had it for a century or so, but even I couldn't pronounce it."
Frowning, Izara said, "I wish I could change mine. 'Izara' is just so--I don't know--pedestrian."
"So, change it."
"What, just like that?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"But, it's not that simple. People worship me. They pray to me. If I change my name, where will the prayers go?"
It was Whisp's turn to be surprised. "But you're a goddess! You can do whatever you want."
Izara just laughed. "I wish! Not only can't I change my name, I have to show up every time they ring that stupid bell, and every time--" Izara's eyes glazed over for a few seconds, "--somebody says a prayer, I--" another pause, "--get interrupted."
Whisp giggled and floated up to Izara's eye level. She turned a pirouette, her skirt flaring out around her as she twirled.
"I'm just a simple sprite, but I can go where I want when I want, and call myself whatever I want. You, on the other hand, are a goddess with near infinite powers, but you are at the mercy of your human worshippers."
Izara frowned and nodded. "Yeah. Sucks to be a goddess!"