#Amber reads the Black Jewels series

[emblazonet]

So, the Black Jewels Trilogy

Saw these books recommended in a thread about adult sexy fantasy books, and my brain went ??? Wait. They weren’t that adult???? They had dark themes, but they were fluff.

I’d almost forgotten about them. I read them about 15 years age (wat!) in high school. My friends at the time peer pressured me into it. They would tell me about all their favourite scenes and squee about them as we whiled away lunches in the stairwell, which both spoiled a lot of the fun of reading them the first time and I still remember which scenes were spoiled as I did my reread.

I enjoyed them well enough at the time, because they were dark and a bit gory and a bit sexy and I was ravenous as a teen for anything with sex, violence, and especially BDSM. I grew out of them by uni.

So the thread was specifically recommending them as an adult alternative to the trendy ACoTaR books by Sarah J Maas that I have never read and don’t intend to. I have since learned that some hold the opinion that SJM plagiarized or otherwise cribbed heavily from Black Jewels. (The other alternative offered in that thread were the Kushiel books, which I would agree are more adult, both in subject matter and style.)

On a reread, I think my initial impression that these books are more for teens���or people who specifically want and need an id-based power fantasy—holds up. Content warnings for literally all the standard bogeyman: rape, pedophilia, implied cannibalism, torture, etc etc. It dives shallowly into all the dark stuff in order to get to the revenge fantasy at the heart of the series.

Extensive spoilers under the cut. There’s a few things I liked, but there’s a lot more I didn’t enjoy about it too. (And it’s not because of any of the content warning stuff above.)

I wrote my review of the first three books before reading any of the sequels. Sequel reviews will be forthcoming.

The Setting

The worldbuilding is a mess. I have no idea how the economy works or why there are even nonBlood ‘landens’ (basically magicless folk) at all when they Literally. Never. Show. Up.

Yet! For all that! It is so rare to see a matriarchy in a fantasy setting that I will forgive the cardboard worldbuilding and pretend like economics doesn’t matter it’s just fantasy. I love that the greatest power is downwards, the Darkness rather than the heavens. Dark stuff more powerful. It’s neat! Like even today the books feel different, even when they’re extremely 2000s aesthetically. Goth vibes ftw. Less good is the gender essentialism and the caste system, which feels like a forerunner to A/B/O in some ways.

Basically, like in A/B/O, everyone has like a secondary biological gender that determines their rank in the hierarchy. So women who are born Queens are biologically meant to rule, and men are drawn to serve them. (It’s stupid, but I respect the inherent service kink aspect.) Some males are Warlords, who are more aggressive, and some men are even higher caste as Warlord Princes, who are ‘predators’ who want to murder ppl all the time, but they’re supposed to be controlled by the women I guess. They're emotionally immature alpha males. Yuck.

I still have no real idea how the fuck Terreille and Kaeleer are different tbh, one just has sentient animals? Are they different dimensions?? The physicality of the environment in this book is like wisps of smoke. Stuff just appears, usually when it needs to, and then goes away again, much like how the magical protagonists are always calling and vanishing objects.

Daughter of the Blood

For a trilogy with a deeply repetitive, emphatic style that over-relies on (dorky) catchphrases (‘and the Blood will sing to Blood,’ ‘everything has a price,’ ‘Mother Night’) each book does have a unique flavour and its own problems.

Weirdly, the thing I hated the most about the first book was the random fatphobia. I never even noticed it as a kid, but almost every time a fat character is introduced they’re a gross dude and likely a pedophile. Don’t like it, tired of seeing it, stop. I’m not even going to forgive the series for being from the early 2000s. I don’t care. Cut it out. At least it only happens in the first book.

The Mary-Sue (she really is! I mean that with affection!) Jaenelle is a child in this book, and her main problems in life are getting sent to a mental institution called Briarwood that is run by pedophiles. We also—at no point ever in the books—get her POV, so a lot of the horror is mitigated by how much the details are glossed over. I think that was meant to be more horrifying but the author isn’t good enough at building atmosphere to make that work. The book chooses a couple specifically horrible situations and then hammers into them in a way that feels both schlocky but also makes the world and the situation feel smaller. I don’t like the way repetition is used in these books. It’s certainly a choice but it’s one that drives the nuance out of book. Almost every villain in this book is a rapist, which makes the rape feel cheap by the end—and I don’t think cheapening it was the intention.

Yet, to be honest, I think this is the strongest book of the three. I actually really like the beginning, with Tersa being crazy and giving prophecies. I don’t know, the writing just draws me in somehow. It’s not great writing, I want to be clear. It’s got nothing on, idk, Tanith Lee. But it is extremely readable and compelling. I was having a good time.

Also, Lucivar and Daemon, like, kiss? And that is just about the only gay thing that you will see in the books until Daemon fakes raping his father in the third book. It is unrelentingly heterosexual otherwise. But I think I was hooked early on as a teen hoping for some gay action. I was disappointed at the time and I’m disappointed now.

This is also the book with probably the most sex and violence. Men are castrated on screen a couple times, there’s explicit cannibalism of one of the other children at Briarwood, one of our viewpoint characters is an assassin, etc etc. Much bad sex happening. Daemon and Lucivar, the hot dudes who are brothers, have been sex slaves for like 1700 years which is objectively hilarious that is SUCH an absurd amount of time to just... be more powerful (aka have darker Jewels) than any of your slavers and just not gotten free? Even with magical cock rings that control them, it's still so stupid.

Also, our main character is actually their dad, Saetan (I WILL NEVER BE OVER THESE NAMES) who is like 50k years old? That makes me giggle so much. That’s so old. Why. Honestly props to Anne Bishop, she really just went for it. I have so much respect for how batshit absurd everything is.

Honestly I just kinda like the first book? It’s paced a lot better than the other ones, it’s dark and ridiculous and full of bad things happening. Jaenelle reminds me of a friend of mine, oddly enough. She’s probably tolerable because we never get her POV.

I also liked Daemon and Jaenelle’s relationship in this one. Under the worldbuilding power fantasy terms of this setting, Jaenelle is literally made up of the dreams of people in the world, and Daemon’s dream was to be the lover of the Most Powerful Matriarch Ever, who in the book is called ‘Witch.’ So meeting her as a kid he’s constantly bombarded by his attraction to her spirit/power/Witch-self, whatever. But she’s a kid and he’s Very Not Into That. He and Saetan are constantly respecting her consent at every opportunity, so it doesn’t squick me out in the slightest.

Because you know, at that age (12-14), I would have killed for an ancient powerful lover who is The Hottest Guy In All The Realms to be all but overcome with lust for me and yet completely absolutely in service to my every need and desire.

It’s a power fantasy, yo.

Anyway the next two books will completely kill any interest I have in their relationship so really, Daughter of the Blood could have ended here and I would have been satisfied.

Heir to the Shadows

Wow, does this one have middle book syndrome. It’s a slog. Someone out there probably likes it. One of the scenes my high school friends liked is the introduction of the Arcerian cat Kaelas where he squashes the Sceltie puppy Ladvarian. I remember them telling me about it with glee. It’s cute, but not enough to save this book.

Everytime a conflict happens it’s almost instantly resolved. Jaenelle grows up, Saetan spoils her, she has friends. All the characters feel really one note. There is almost no sex in this book, but there is some gore. The extremely boring villains, Dorothea and Hekatah, who are basically the same person except one of them is undead (‘demon-dead’), do some violence. Our protagonists do more violence. There’s a unicorn genocide. I can’t keep any of the characters that are in Jaenelle’s court straight (except for Karla and the aforementioned cat and puppy).

Oh, Daemon’s just insane for the whole book, and I ended up skimming all his sections because nothing happened in them.

That sure was a book. Took me longer to read than the other two combined.

Queen of the Darkness

Back to a compelling read, somehow. I blasted through it.

A major issue I have with this series is about how power is framed. Might makes right. The good guys happen to be more powerful, so they can unleash their often bloody revenge, which is always framed as a good thing, a triumph. And also, no one just talks to each other, because bad guys are bad and good guys are good. There is no real compromise, and no nuance.

Like, Bishop is writing a matriarchy, but instead of, idk, expanding on that idea, she just kinda writes the same power imbalances that exist in our world except more villains are women, which instead of feeling empowering or whatever reeks of internalized misogyny. Yeah, I get it, women are bitches and oppressing the mens, so then the sad menz all rape vulnerable women. So it’s a patriarchy, actually, with the Queen-caste women as figureheads. WHY YOU DO THIS.

Honestly I find the ‘might makes right’ part much more problematic than any inclusion of sex slavery, unicorn genocide, or pedophilia. All the latter are perpetrated by villains; what's the excuse for the good guys?

Like this book is more about being righteous and also horny than it is trying to say stuff about politics or whatever, but it’s saying stuff about politics anyway, and what it’s saying is that the most powerful people make the rules. And being an emotionally unregulated nuclear bomb person is perfectly fine so long as you’re the good guy. And frankly, I hate that, and I disagree with it.

And ok, sure, so the Queens are supposed to emotionally regulate their Warlord Princes except that’s mostly just by hoping they hold onto their tempers until they can unleash them in a better direction which doesn’t strike me as real emotional regulation. And who’s supposed to regulate Jaenelle? Just... Jaenelle? Like theoretically the males who serve her, but the way they treat her seems more likely to cause nuclear explosions. She is herself a walking bomb.

Honestly the way males treat females in this book is gross. Men just like overprotect and patronize to the point of infantilizing a woman. And Big Yikes if she so much as gets a period—which is apparently The Worst and makes them unable to use power which THANKS I HATE IT—and it’s just awful, the men treat them like INVALIDS. Not romantic. Didn’t like it as a teen, don’t like it now.

Additionally, I don’t like how emotions and trauma are handled in this. I love a good broken traumatic character, and it's even better if they're powerful and need to navigate not causing harm whilst healing. I lap that shit up. Black Jewels fails me here. All the characters are so fucking one note and so the trauma/healing stuff feels shallow and uninspired.

Additionally, Jaenelle and Daemon are so boring and they’re ‘courting’ each other like high schoolers with zero personality and I hate it. They had better sexual chemistry when she was 12, which is probably just because Daughter of the Blood was the better written book.

Also, they got like a romancey fade to black sex scene? Yeesh.

I DO appreciate that Daemon has no magic healing dick: Jaenelle is still pretty traumatized about stuff after they bone. She’s better about sex, sure, but she’s still upset about being a Queen, etc etc. You know, this series has ooooodles of problems, but I really don’t think Jaenelle is one of them. She works for me. (Although Daemon being a virgin after 1700 years as a pleasure slave? I HATE THAT, that’s stupid. Miss me with that bullshit. At least Jaenelle is never punished by the text for not being a virgin.)

I don’t have much to say about the end. Because we go in knowing Daemon's got back up plans it takes all the tension out of the climax. The story ends with an expected triumph. The book doesn’t set up the idea that Jaenelle will die well enough either, like it’s telegraphed from the first that the Kindred will save her, and then they do. Ok then. Wow, so tense. Much thrill.

So like, I raced through reading this, sure, but it still wasn’t a satisfying read. But it wasn’t a slog. And there were some fun interactions—I enjoyed Surreal and her wolf Graysfang. There were moments.

Honestly this series is so unhinged that despite all the ridiculosity of it, I think I’m coming away feeling weirdly affectionate towards it? It’s bad, the alpha male tropes are nauseating, the matriarchy failed hard, and it’s repetitive as fuck. I’ve been thinking about this series for weeks now, and I have no idea why I find it compelling! It’s infuriating! Maybe it’s compelling because it’s infuriating.

In conclusion: I guess I’m going to read all of this garbage and yell about it. Stay tuned for the sequels.

[officialinuyasha]

Let's talk about Yashahime updates and more theories. Theories I posted about that have been confirmed so far as information was slowly being released. You guys can pause this video if you'd like. The top character is InuYasha and Kagome's daughter [Due to color and features] The bottom two daughters are Sesshoumaru's [Due to colors and because of the patterns that were behind them] The Tree Tunnel has to do with the Sacred Tree being tied to the Well like it did in the first movie [Confirmed in Animage Magazine] A pearl has to do with Setsuna's memory loss, referenced when InuYasha was being shown visions the second time he visits the Inu no Taishou's grave [This was confirmed in a PV] The rainbow pearls may be 7 individual pearls, this was speculated because of the website [This was confirmed in a keyword] Quarter demon would be officially called Shihanyou [Shi-hanki Han-bun You-kai] I wrote about this on Anispace years ago, along with Rikuo Nura who is a Quarter Demon from a series called Nura: Rise of the Youkai Clan [Confirmed in a keyword] Souta may be living in an apartment or condominium because the outside and inside looked different from the Higurashi house [Confirmed in the Keyword] Towa would be abducted in the same way that Kagome would be from episode 1 because she's from a different era and has different clothes [Confirmed in script reveal picture] Moroha would have spiritual powers [This was referenced in the Fourth movie and also speculated by many of us, for obvious reasons. It was confirmed in the trailer] Towa in the trailer was talking about the first time Root head was defeated [Confirmed in Episode 1 Summary] So if you guys had these theories in mind as well, you were also correct!

The new characters from the voice list for episode 1 are Munehisa, from the summary we know he's the one that tells Towa the story of Roothead that takes place over ten years ago. Kinu Gyokuto and Lord [I'm assuming the lord of the mansion]

In Japanese history Kinu is Golden Bird and Gyokuto is Jewel Rabbit [Moon Rabbit/Jade Rabbit]

Let's expand on the theories I previously talked about. So we don't know the origins of the pearls yet, on who created them or where they came from, so it can be speculated it may or may not be Hosenki or his son, as his son said Hosenki used all the jewels before he passed away. But there can always be secrets we don't know about. It's happened before in the series. It may be another Oyster demon or someone else entirely, we know there are people who have made fake jewels like Izumo. Kinu and Gyokuto may have something to do with the origins of the pearls. Since the name Gyokuto is Jewel Rabbit. As you know I joked about Towa looking like the Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland before the summary even came out ... You know, Tunnel of Ages, Rabbit tree tunnels. The English title of the first InuYasha episode seemed to reference Alice in Wonderland so this is just getting ironic to me. Remember Sango means Coral, Kohaku means Amber, Hisui means Jade. Would be interesting if they had a connection to the pearls because of their names or if Hisui's prayer beads had a pearl. That's all silly to say. But hey, doesn't hurt to have an idea.

The Pearls can also be related to the Seven Treasures. Shippo, or the "seven treasures", as in the Buddhist Scriptures, refers to gold, silver, lapis lazuli, crystal, agate, red coral, and carnelian. But when it comes to Shippou, I know its referenced because of his seven changes and tricks because of InuYasha Feudal Fairytale for the PS1. I always thought that was cute.

There's also new merch and once again the character colors totally make me think of the pearls! I've been wondering if the Forest Fire will affect the sacred tree as well. We can also speculate a possible return of Roothead. A third return. Since it's such a big demon, its possible it could regenerate. What I've been wondering is how will they purify the demon corpse for the Corpse Shop? Atleast, if it is necessary for them to do so. In Episode 59. Remember how the Ninjas Serina and Suzuna stole Sango's weapons? Sango said that the parts needed to be purified. I'm hoping they use this in Yashahime as a way to show Moroha purifiying the parts for the Corpse body shop or even putting sutras where they are held in the shop. Maybe even Jyubei did the same technique at some point. I also wonder if Jyubei was an ex demon slayer himself. I'd like the idea of him or someone affiliated with the shop was an ex Demon slayer. Kougas sword looks like Morohas sword...It's unlikely they are the same sword. But, hey it's an idea. Towa's name means Eternity and Setsuna's name means Moment. This may be referenced to Sesshoumaru and Rin. From Episode 162 "Forever with Lord Sesshoumaru". In this episode Rin's mortality is brought up. Sesshoumaru can live for hundreds of years, while to humans can feel like an eternity. Rin is a moment in Sesshoumaru's life that can seem like an eternity. We had a short 15 second trailer that included zoom in of the promo picture that said Change the Future. they are referencing their names.

Towa [Eternity] Setsuna [Moment] Moroha [Double-Edged] Wish for eternity. Live in the moment. A double-edged bloodline. Traverse the past and present. Change the future.

As I speculated previously it's possible that Towa may be captured like Kagome was in the first episode because of being a demon or her attire, being speculated as "Not of this world" /"Not from around here" - or some kind of threat! - Let's talk about the possible changes to the future. We know that Towa has a History book in the Feudal Era. I noticed it the first time we saw the trailer that the Kanji said History. Kagome has brought her books many times to the Feudal Era. But we can speculate if bad guys got the book, bad things can happen. Of course. They can know about things before they happen and change it. I like to imagine crazy things changing like, if she's reading her History book and suddenly history changes on the page. That would be trippy. Or things in her era start to change and they have to go back and fix it. Stuff like this has been seen in many movies and other series about time changes. Even in video games such as - You guessed it. One of my most favorite video games of all time - The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. My friend Lea is one of the people who help me with translations and from what can be read from the scripts that were posted on the Official Yashahime twitter. She said - “Towa’s captors are questioning about this "Reiwa” country she was in and call her Yashahime. Towa thinks to herself that she must'nt say anything or else history will be altered. Towa tells them she’s not Yashahime though"

I nailed it when I said that I thought she was getting captured like Kagome was from episode 1. So, let's wonder. Towa might not know she is Yashahime, yet or she knows that she is Yashahime and is hiding it. It sounds like the bad guys might be looking for the Yashahime or atleast know of them. The palace in the promo picture could be the Lord of Kanto's palace unless it's the demon slayers village. As it zooms into Towa and Setsuna. From the short Viz Media video.

We've seen the scripts posted on the Yashahime twitter, and there appears to be  13 scripts that were visible in the Yashahime twitter picture. Towa is shown on the front of Episode 2, Setsuna on 3 and Moroha on Four. We got Episode 2's summary and it's going to be called "The 3 Princesses" Episode 3 is called “The Butterfly of Dreams" which has Setsuna on the script cover. We know that the Butterfly of Dreams is what affected Setsuna's Memories. Episode 4 is called the "Door to the Past” that's the one that has Moroha on it We can also think about how Towa's first interaction with Moroha and Setsuna might be. It could be by complete accident that they ran into Towa while trying to go after the demon. Or it may be the moment in the Kanto palace that they are looking to save Towa. When we look at the trailers and episode summaries, it appears that Towa is shown first returning to the Feudal era, however we don't know if she will see Setsuna at that part, or even a glimpse. Or that Setsuna will meet Towa face to face when she goes to the Modern Era with Moroha in episode two. We can also speculate that Episode 1 may just be Towa explaining how she got herself into "this mess". There are times in series where a character is explaining how they got where they were. So it's unsure if Setsuna ends up in the Modern Era first or if Towa goes to the Feudal Era first. But based on what we have seen. We are atleast shown Towa in the Feudal Era first, but again it may not be in order. So let's talk about Souta. Grandpa wanted him to be a priest, his mom wanted him to be a doctor and Souta himself said he wanted to be a Soccer player. So I wonder if it's any of those. Maybe even a Technician or a Vet. Maybe he even was a Teacher or Musician like his wife is or even a Video Game designer. It is possible that the girls may go to another era besides the Feudal and Modern. There may be splits between those two. I'd like to see them go to the Heian Period where Midoriko and Inu no Taishou were! I talked about before, if InuYasha and the others are dead or even trapped I know that it would not be permanent and that there would always be a solution to save them or bring them back. Even finding them. Onto the "Butterfly of Dreams" whats interesting is there was actually a movie called the "Butterfly Effect" and in the the main character is afflicted with headaches so painful that he frequently blacks out. While unconscious, the character is able to travel back in time to difficult moments in his childhood. He can also alter the past for friends. But changing the past can drastically alter the present, and he finds himself in nightmarish alternate realities, including one where he's locked away in prison. But, whats further to look into is that the Butterfly Effect is a real thing in Chaos theory - "The butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state." Also if Setsuna isn't getting enough sleep. Impaired sleep has been associated with Alzheimer's disease. It's also known that not getting enough sleep in general can cause forgetfulness or memory loss. So there's alot that the Butterfly of Dreams can be related to.

We also got some more screenshots for the first episode. It looks like Towa may be looking at Kagome's bike seat. This Owl that has multiple eyes like the old man. I think it has something to do with him, and it may even be his true form. Because in the Trailer when Setsuna attacks the Old man he seems to vanish and his clothes drop to the floor. It's possible the Owl may be his true form and he flies away where they try to go after him!

Ca Mercadejas asked me what I think Moroha's screen time would be. I think that Moroha's screentime will be equal to all three of the girls, I say that based on the interviews when they talked about making her the third main character. Sumisawa said: To explain these three a little more, even if Towa and Setsuna were having a one way conversation, but if you add one more direction that is Moroha to the conversation, it completes the cross road and the focus becomes easier. If Moroha who is an external factor (sense of values) is around, then no matter how similar or how many confrontations Towa and Setsuna exhibit, the story will keep progressing further and further.

Rex Play's asked me "Have you rewatch all of inuyasha cause i have after knowing that there was a sequel" Yes I have especially with the release of the Blu-rays. I've been buying them and watching them. Even watching it on VIZ Media's Official Website.

With all of that being said. Relax. Sit back. Enjoy Yashahime. I'm going to rewatch all the Yashahime episodes millions of times. Remember about what Rumiko Takahashi said about Towa and Setsuna's mother - "Please forget the existence of their mother, for now."

[noveltea-lolita]

Winter King {RusCan}

@aphrarepairweek2020

This is a little gift for @bogbees! They’ve drawn so much fanart for my ongoing fanfic The Witch and the Prophecy that I wanted to thank them by writing them a little drabble! I hope you like it, and thank you so much for all of your support on my story, @bogbees! 

This takes place in the not-so-distant future of TWATP. It’s basically a sneak peak of the second part of the series. I think you can still enjoy this if you haven’t read the parent story. All you need to know is: Matthew is a crippled Seer (has the ability to see the future), and he and a group of characters (the ones mentioned here are Feliciano, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Kiku) are on a journey to save their continent Esmya from the evil king of Avalon.

Warnings: barely mentioned omegaverse. 

Day 7: Magic

Voronsk, capital of the Imperial Kingdom of Glaceria

Matthew thought he knew the meaning of cold, having grown up in the steppes of Glaceria near their shared, northern border with Avalon, and then traveling through Avalon on foot in the winter with minimal items to keep him and his friends warm, but nothing could compare to the freezing temperatures in Glaceria’s capital of Voronsk.

However, the skin piercing cold was bearable, manageable, compared to the horrific crowd in the ballroom of the imperial palace he was in the midst of fleeing from. With every step he took, the base of his oak staff clicked against the slated pavement winding through the dense, evergreen filled royal garden. He stopped, and let out a long, visible breath when he deemed himself safe from the hungry eyed dvoryanstvo- Glacerian nobility- that were so desperate to speak with him.

“What sort of magic does a Seer possess?” “A long lost prince of Avalon… How extraordinary!” “But you are a beta, what kind of power could you possess in court?”

Matthew’s skin prickled beneath his heavy blue coat as he thought of the many words thrown his way before he had been able to slip away, head down the grand staircase, and flee via the royal garden. The guards lined against the door didn’t try to stop him, probably since he and his friends were here as personal guests of His Majesty, though it was nerve racking walking past them.

But he was out of the amber ballroom, glistening with brightly lit sconces and jewel dripping dvoryanstvo. Deeming it safe, Matthew stopped beside a stone bench in front of a small lake and took a seat, allowing his twisted, ruined left knee a well-deserved rest. He ran a black gloved hand over his face and forced himself to count to ten. Slowly, he began to calm down.

He took one more deep breath before opening his eyes in order to take a proper look at his surroundings. The palace garden must be larger than he originally imagined considering there was an inky lake in front of him, surface filled with the millions of stars twinkling in the black sky above. Scattered throughout the garden were evergreen trees, shrubs, and bushes, but not much else. That was no surprise; Glaceria was a land of everlasting winter. There wasn’t much of anything that grew. Piles of snow rested around garden though servants had swept it away from the slated path; it glistened from the dark green trees and dripped from holly berries. Matthew preferred the sight over the dancing bodies and jewelry from the ballroom.

Here, it was quiet. Only the sound of his own breathing and faint music from the palace drifted through the air on soundwaves. There was an eerie stillness surrounding the garden, but Matthew didn’t mind it. It just reminded him he was alone right now, and that’s what he wanted more than anything.

He turned his head to the side in order to look at the mighty palace he had just fled from. From the outside, the palace seemed almost simple with white and pale turquoise walls. It was interior that told everyone just how grand it actually was. Mosaics, and gold, and amber. Beauty was etched in every corner of it. From his seat in the garden, he could see the white balcony leading from the ballroom, his vision only slightly obscured by the trees.

Inside the ballroom, his friends were dancing or eating or talking the night away. His heart twisted within his chest as he thought of them, and how stressed, and tired, and on edge they had all been since their departure from Avalon weeks ago, but tonight they had seemed happy. Dressed in extravagant clothes tailored by the very best in Glaceria, they were each treated as personal guests just as he was.  Even Feliciano and Kiku, whose thoughts had been with their children left behind with the rebellion, had been bouncing in excitement- or rather, Feliciano had been bouncing while Kiku smiled and allowed his friend to talk his ear off. They were all having fun together.

But Matthew didn’t… belong with them. He looked away from the balcony and stared at his thighs. Like the others, he too wore an outfit made specifically for him. Tight black pants and knee high boots threaded by blue laces with a golden belt looped around his waist. His shirt was completely covered by his blue jacket- it was the kind of jacket that was longer in the back, but he knew next to nothing about fashion so the specific name of the style was lost to him. Stitched around the jacket’s collar, arm cuffs, and the tops of his boots were fluffy white puffs that looked like clouds. It was buttoned together by actual gold, and the exterior lining looked like threaded gold. His hair was tied back in the tiniest ponytail, allowing only a few curly strands to fall against his powdered face.

Apparently, make-up wasn’t something only omegas wore in Glaceria. He should be lucky he wasn’t stuffed into a corset like Feliciano and Gilbert. He drew the white handkerchief from his pocket after removing his glasses, and pressed it against his face. He pushed against his flesh, trying to scrub every last drop of make-up from his skim. When he dropped the now stained cloth back to his lap, his face still felt sticky but not nearly as heavy.

Matthew blinked at the lake with a heavy chest. He couldn’t be happy like his friends, not when destruction was on the horizon. Not when his heart was so twisted and confused. Not when he couldn’t even master the magic thought to be in his veins. He tilted his head back to the stars, twinkling dimly beneath a sheen layer of clouds.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered, hoping someone, anyone, was listening. “Now would be a great time for another vision. Something, anything, that lets me know we’re doing the right thing.”

But the stars, and the gods, and the ones who walked Esmya before him were silent. As usual. He lowered his head with a wry smile. “Guess not.”

“I thought I might find you out here, Matovyy.” Matthew shivered without meaning to, but the deeply accented voice that said his name always sent unwanted chills down his spine. Without looking up, he made to stand, but the voice stopped him. “No need to bow, we are past that stage, yes?”

“I, I suppose we are.” Slowly, Matthew turned his head to face the alpha approaching him. Tall and large, bigger than Ludwig and Herakles even, was the King of Glaceria, Ivan. For a king, his clothes weren’t nearly as exquisite as the nobles in his palace. He wore black pants, pale brown boots, and a long dark purple coat with platinum buttons. The collar of the jacket was folded against his chest, allowing his signature scarf to make home around his neck. The scarf didn’t match the rest of his outfit, or the diamond encrusted crown atop his head, but it matched him, Ivan Braginski.

And Matthew wasn’t entirely sure how he felt knowing what did and didn’t match the Winter King’s personality.

Unsure of what to do, he patted the space beside him but Ivan shook his head. Instead of sitting, he walked closer to the bench and stood beside it, drowning out Matthew’s presence. He tried not to stare at the alpha, but it was hard not to. Ivan was very… something. Something Matthew had never seen before, and, try as he may, he could not ignore the invisible force pushing him toward the man.

“Are you allowed to be out here?” Matthew asked without really thinking. His eyes widened. “I-I meant, should you be out here? Of course you’re allowed to be, since you’re the king, but won’t your people miss you?”

He still wasn’t sure how to talk to Ivan.

Ivan grunted. “Crowds are not my favorite.” His words were just a bit awkward in the common tongue. Matthew offered to speak in the Glacerian language when they first met, but Ivan refused, claiming he needed more practice with the common tongue of Esmya. “I much prefer the garden. My sisters can… entertain the guests.”

“Oh.” Matthew finally looked back at his lap, and his heart stuttered when he took in the handkerchief shining against his legs. He snatched it back up and shakily stuffed it in his pocket before Ivan could say anything. Gods, he hoped the other hadn’t seen it!

“I do not think you need it either,” Ivan said. “Powder. You are very beautiful without it.”

Matthew nearly choked on the icy air as an extra wave of embarrassment crashed into him. “Oh.” He cleared his throat before it could crack. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Ivan was ridiculously blunt. He didn’t blush and flail as he complimented Matthew, like… someone else had. The breath caught in his throat at the thought of that someone. He abruptly stood, gripping his staff for dear life. “Well. I, uh, will leave you to your solitude. I think Ludwig wanted to dance- I mean, not Ludwig, he wouldn’t want to do that. Feliciano is who I meant. Good night-”

“Matovyy.” Matthew froze as a large, ungloved, freezing cold hand rested against his own. It was so cold, he could feel it through the fabric of his own glove. “Stay. And dance with me.”

Ivan’s bright purple eyes were unflinching as they bore into his own. He should say no, claim he was tired or that his friends would be worried about him, but that invisible force shoved him harder and he found himself murmuring, “Okay.”

Ivan smiled. “We will make a magic lesson of it, yes?”

Since they arrived in Voronsk one week ago, Ivan had been giving Matthew magic lessons.

“Our magic is similar,” Ivan had said during their first lesson. “I am a druid and a Ledyanoy, you are a witch and a Seer. We must use spells in order to draw the magic from our veins. It cannot just appear from sheer will alone, like a Fae, shapeshifter, or Elementalist.”

The success rate is debatable.

But a magic lesson meant Matthew could hide behind that. There didn’t have to be any… any sort of romance involved. No, what was he thinking of? Dancing didn’t mean romance! He’s danced with Feliciano before and that wasn’t romantic! It was just a friendly waltz. That’s all this would be. He hoped… did he hope for that?

Matthew nodded. Ivan let go of his hand and removed his diamond crown, placing it on the bench. Then he pried the staff from Matthew’s other hand and let it lean against the bench, right beside the crown. There was a faint, barely there, golden glow inside the etched out runes across the staff, but they were ignored for now as Ivan led Matthew across the snowy garden until they were right in front of the lake.

“The first kind of magic I taught you is the magic of ice,” Ivan said quietly, his deep voice unusually soft. “It is difficult to master, but it is the easiest to create in my home.”

Ivan closed his eyes and whispered the words of the spell in the rough Glacerian language. Nothing visibly happened until he took a step onto the lake and ice appeared beneath him, keeping him above the surface. He kicked his foot back as if he were ice skating and glided further across the unfrozen water. Matthew tried not to gasp as Ivan continued gliding against the lake, leaving a small trail of ice behind that melted after a few seconds. The top of the lake was so dark, it looked like Ivan was floating through the air. His hands stayed behind his back, folded against the small of it. He was beautiful.

He drew to a stop in front of Matthew and held out a hand. “You will stay afloat like this while holding on to me.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. Oh, dear. “I- I don’t think I’m skilled enough to do this just yet. Besides, my knee isn’t strong enough to…” He trailed off because he knew, no matter what excuses he gave, Ivan wouldn’t let him walk away. He was a very strict teacher. With a small sigh, he said, “I’m not sure if I can forgive you if you let me fall in.”

Surprisingly, Ivan made a sound that could have been a laugh. “I will catch you, Matovyy.”

He believed those words. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember all there was to creating magic such as this. Druids and witches could only use natural magic, like ice, water, and lightning. They could never be as powerful as Elves, Fae, or Elementalists, but it was powerful enough that the humans in Avalon feared them. Whispering the spell and focusing every bit of attention to his feet, Matthew took a step toward the surface of the lake.

And stayed afloat. He blinked in shock. There was ice spreading from the bottoms of his feet! He was doing it! Then he gasped as his balance began to wobble, and he slumped forward, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the water to consume him, but it didn’t. He fell into an impossibly hard chest that was, perhaps, a mixture of fat and muscle, and stayed afloat. An arm wrapped itself around his waist and drew him even closer as an extra layer of ice spread beneath his left foot. He blinked up at his savior, one of the few people he actually had to look up to properly look into their eyes.

Ivan was smiling. “We will work on it.”

Matthew was too breathless to speak. He gasped as Ivan started moving backwards, pushing against the gentle flow of the water. He gripped Ivan’s jacket as he tried keeping the ice against his feet, as he tried not to think about the cold plunge that could be seconds away. Instead he tried to think about the heatless body he was clinging to, and the graceful movements he was trying to fall into sync with.

“You are not looking,” Ivan said with, what sounded like, a smile on his face. “You cannot see much with your face in my chest.”

Matthew didn’t look up. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“You are smart enough to concentrate while looking at your surroundings.” Still, he didn’t. “If you cannot believe in yourself then believe in me. I will not let you fall. I give you a King’s promise.”

Matthew couldn’t help his small smile. “What does that mean?”

Ivan’s cool breath misted against his ear. “It means if I break it, I will step down as King.”

The background music completely faded as Matthew’s grip against the velvet jacket loosened. “You have that much faith in yourself?”

“No. I have that much faith in you.”

It was like Ivan’s words were a spell. Slowly, the ball of nerves raging within his stomach smoldered as he picked his head up and stared at the one looking down at him, the stars and evergreens a backdrop behind him. There were flecks of frost in his purple eyes. Matthew wanted to count them. Ivan smiled softly. “There. It is not so scary, you see?”

It wasn’t, but there was something inside of him that still trembled and wanted to look away from the eyes staring into his own. Was it curiosity or magic that burned his soul and caused his body to tremble? The invisible force was relentless as it continued to guide him toward the alpha before him, and he decided to let it take him somewhere new, and different, and… and… and…

Ivan pressed a hand to his cheek as they continued to move against the lake. He smiled and they drew to a halt, his hand still against Matthew’s cheek. He pressed his thumb against the bone, sending a bolt of icy electricity through his body. He said nothing as he leant down and pressed his cold lips to Matthew’s while the only noise Matthew gave was a surprised, ‘mmf’. Deep inside his mind, something was trying to compare this kiss to the one before it, the kiss between himself and another, but he pushed it down. Maybe it was against his better judgement, but he shoved it back into the crevice of his mind as he wrapped his arms around Ivan’s neck and kissed him back with fervor.

He wasn’t entirely sure what this kiss meant, or where it would lead, but he wanted to find out. He wanted to experience something new and passionate like this… just like this…

Behind one of the evergreens, the White Wolf stared at the figures magically standing on top of the unfrozen lake with their arms around each other and their lips connected. He turned away and headed back to the palace, and pretended not to notice the rupture in his chest.  

[lairn]

Thanks @elderling-magic for running these re-reads!

Ship of Destiny Question Time:

1. What were your favorite moments?

Amber projecting Fitz onto Paragon so hard the whole time. I was dying for her. It was sweet and sad. And then of course she gave Paragon his face! Honestly I could go on - the “purely ornamental” axe, the almost black eyes - ahhh!

Getting more of Etta’s perspective on Kennit. He does not fool her as well as he thinks he does, even before things get really bad.

Ronica and Rache: brave spies. Three Ships folk: very excellent.

Amber called Fitz her one true love. :’)

Wintrow’s first skill healing (vs. Fitz’s)

Bolt’s spooky introduction. And her singing to the serpents.

Seeing Kekki had a lot going on internally. That she fought just as hard for her safety as a Companion as Serilla did.

Selden becoming an Elderling minstrel.

Tintaglia signing a human contract makes me laugh.

Serilla pushing Roed off the council platform.

Reyn hunting that big walrus thing. He did his best!

Brashen picking up Mother from Key Island.

Tintaglia dropping Reyn into the ocean. It’s just kind of funny? And then poor Reyn moping as he watches Malta humor the Satrap. God imagine Malta ever loving Cosgo.

Malta immediately finding Reyn beautiful and visa-versa.

Paragon swooping in to confront Kennit. All the things we had taken for granted are so alien in Kennit’s eyes - ghost captain, gold goddess, Paragon’s new face

Paragon and Vivacia becoming whole enough to reject blood on their decks.

Kennit’s charm reassuring Etta and staying with her.

Amber’s shock when she finds the nine-fingered slave boy.

Wintrow continuing to insist that Etta is amazing when others think Kennit/her life circumstances overshadow her.

Etta wanting to dance.

Brashen and Althea acknowledging that Paragon is an independent being that deserves the right to his own life and decisions.

2. Favorite quotes?

I tried really hard to find some quotes this time, but I document too much! I just spent like an hour scrolling through my notes for these so they will have to do.

“Male and female, bird, beast and plant, earth, fire, air and water, all are honored in Sa and Sa manifests in all of them. If the divine is also female, and the female also divine, then she understands that woman is more than mother, more than daughter, more than wife. Those are facets of a full life, but no single facet defines the jewel.”

“Behind him, Jola bellowed angrily at the men, threatening to strip the flesh from their ribs if they didn’t put their backs into their work. Wasted breath, Kennit thought to himself. Just do it once to one of them and the first mate would never need to threaten them again.” [Kennit!! Why!!]

“Her voice dwindled away, but Althea had a sense of the wind carrying the words around the world. Her scalp prickled. ‘Amber? You’re frightening me.’

Amber had turned a slow and beatific smile on her. ‘Am I? Then you grow wise.’”

“Once she would have found him mysterious and alluring. She had grown wiser. Dangerous men were neither romantic nor exotic; they were men who could hurt you.”

“Personally, she felt it little mattered how a rapist dressed once you knew what he was.”

3. Did the reread change your opinion of the book trilogy? In what way?

Wintrow fell in my esteem a bit. I couldn’t remember this series all that well, and the way he fails Althea hurt, especially following him trying to force a kiss on Etta. That said, he owns to his weakness with Althea and has been living in a weird psychological situation with Kennit for like a year. I hope he does better by women in the future.

My perspective on Kennit also changed. I don’t feel he deserves any more sympathy (a little) or forgiveness (none) than I gave him on the first read, but learning that he was not only traumatized but then magically deadened to his humanity makes me understand him a little more. To be clear, the same thing happened to Fitz (on a slightly smaller scale) and we didn’t see him acting like Kennit. Kennit is still gross.

Paragon is my favorite liveship now. Because he’s Fitz as a ship. But also I still love Tarman.

A thing I really appreciate about this series that I think the 1st two Fitz trilogies lack is a solid ending. Hobb nails all the personal element’s of Fitz’s story arc, but he ties in so intimately with larger events that she crams in a summary of those events into the last couple of pages. With Liveship Traders, the ensemble cast allows her to spend more time wrapping up the major world events because she can hit one or two with each character.

A theory - what if Kennit’s charm is made from Paragon’s wizardwood? It might be a stretch, but where are people getting scraps from? Would Igrot have sold the chunks of Paragon’s face? I think this is unlikely, but kind of interesting to ruminate on. Probably the truth is an unscrupulous Rain Wilder held onto scraps as ships were made and then sold them slowly.

[faireekira]

Highlights from Tides of the Dark Crystal (Book #3 in the series):

Amri is having a rough time adjusting to the world above ground

he found the caves of grot to be pretty boring

it’s always snowing in Ha’rar, which never clicked with me before reading this book even though i knew it was located in a mountainous region

Tavra is the one who suggests that they go visit the Sifa (hm wonder why)

Amri’s a good climber

he also talks to stones

older women are called “mauddies”

Grottans never wear shoes since it’s very easy to slip in the caves

Amri is used to walking toe-first, not-heel first

he also has bad posture

there’s definitely hints of Naia and Amri being interested in each other

they bond over living in more isolated clans and experiencing the outer world for the first time

The Hunter has red eyes

Onica immediately recognizes spider Tavra

Onica has a cool little cabin on her boat

she has her own boat

they have special furniture that’s built into the ship and can be pulled/folded up and down

she’s a psychic and a “far-dreamer”, which is described as being able to see things far away in space and time while dreaming (so kinda like astral projecting?)

she’s able to communicate directly with thra

Tavra says she’s known Onica for a long time

Tavra can still dreamfast in her spider body, and within the dream space she takes her gelfling form

despite there being jokes about the All-Maudra having a ton of children in the previous books, it’s said that she only has three daughters

either they switched it up to coincide with the show or 3 kids is a lot to the gelfling; there’s no mention of her having sons

Vapra buildings are made of ice and stone

Brea and Seladon still have a strained relationship, but it seems to be worse here

Brea still saw the symbol

The skeksis carriage design comes from the books 

The Chamberlain can and will talk in a deep voice which kills me 

Chamberlain does the whole “hOw dArE YoU IM ONE OF TWICE NINE” thing which is funny cuz they never acknowlege their other half

He still drinks Mira’s essence :/ 

Amri is mistaken for a Vapra 

The main characters as well the All-Maurdra and some others go into the dreamspace with Aughra, but the purpose of this is different

Amri is the one who doesn’t get a nickname from Aughra

Tavra and Onica have had discussions about Mayrin’s true nature

Onica is definitely the more level-headed and understanding one while Tavra can be stubborn and overbearing

the Sifa gather on a bay called Cera-Na

Tavra is determined to teach Amri how to fight

Onica is teaching Kylan how to sail

Onica believes that it’ll be easier for her and Tavra to be together now that Tavra has a spider body

Mayrin did not approve of the relationship because they’re from different clans

Onica and Maudra Ethri are about the same age and grew up together

there’s a new Sifa character, Tae, who also grew up with them

Coral can be cracked open and eaten

Onica didn’t know what the mystics were

Maudra Ethri’s ship, the Omerya, is made of coral and anemones

some sea life lives within the coral

full-blooded Sifa mostly have red hair, but sometimes they also have streaks of black, blue, or turquoise

the Sifa still accept anyone in their clan and have a much more diverse population

it’s mostly assumed that Tavra is dead, almost no one knows of her spider form

the sifa adorn themselves with bells/jewels/wire

Maudra Ethri has dark red and black hair with one green eye and a smooth green jewel replacing her other eye

she’s called “Gem-Eyed Ethri”

Amri, like Naia, also has trouble controlling his temper and his words

Tavra knows a lot about Cera-Na

Onica is cherished by most if not all of the Sifa

The Mariner (Lord skekSa) is in much better shape than the rest of the Skeksis

she wears a gown with armor and an embroidered brocade coat on top

the Mariner left the castle of the crystal hundreds of years before the events of the book, when she disagreed with the Emperor’s way of ruling

Despite leaving the castle years ago, the Mariner is still in contact with some of the skeksis

her ship is literally inside a sea monster

the Mariner has a great voice

the skeksis know what the Arathim are, but no one else seems to know

Amri gets tired of not having a reputation or a nickname and starts calling himself “Amri the Mysterious” aoeidjfadjfa;

Naia is seriously affected by dryness

Onica’s eyes are turquoise

Onica’s wings were green and amber, but they were lost in a storm

the day of the storm was the day she met Tavra

there’s 2 new Dousan characters, who are brothers, but i honestly don’t know if they have a chance of being featured in the series (Amri might)

Being a nomadic tribe, and a group where death is an important aspect of life, the Dousan are not big on material objects

they’re also all about tradition

the crystal desert’s sand is black and gold

the Dousan are split up into 12 clans, called xerics, which are each led by a sandmaster

the clans travel separately unless they’re called to gather by Maudra Seethi, which is rare

“cloud-jellies” exist which i think are some kind of jellyfish

all clans have a communal hearth at the center of their main location

the Dousan were introduced to the rituals and philosophies that became their way of life by one of the mystics (probably the ritual guardian)

the Dousan have their own tree that they gather around, called the Wellspring Tree

Rek’yr is in this! very briefly though

Maudra Mayrin still dies in this one, and all the other maudras are asked to join Seladon’s crowning ceremony

Tavra openly admits that her mother put her duties as All-Maudra before her daughters

Naia suggests that Tavra should be All-Maudra, but Tavra rejects the idea since she’s in her spider body

dreamfasting can be an intimate thing and is kinda seen as like first base in this context

the skeksis don’t even like the Vapra

Seladon still declares that her mother was a traitor at her crowning ceremony

she says that she did not return Mayrin’s body to Thra, but doesn’t explain what she did with it

the Ritual Master and the General were both there

Seladon also declared the Vapra’s loyalty to the skeksis, and anyone who refused to give her a piece of the crown was basically declaring war

Maudras Fara and Laesid refuse to bless Seladon while the rest do, but there is no confrontation specifically between Fara and Seladon

Tavra concludes that the skeksis probably killed her mother because they knew that Seladon would be easier to manipulate and that Tavra was no longer in the picture

the Mariner’s mystic counterpart, urSan the Swimmer, is basically like a mermaid

Tavra doesn’t want Brea to think that she abandoned her

even cloaks have slits in them for gelfling wings

some Vapran homes are carved inside parts of the mountains

the Mariner is a very complicated skeksis but she’s still way cooler than most of them

the skeksis are trying to find a way to drain their mystic counterparts and become whole, probably not as urskeks but as skeksis

Naia’s eyes are blue

skeksis blood is black

Tavra gets another body (kinda)

[hanmajoerin]

This is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill 🚨!

Chapter six of 1095 Days Without You, “Thirty-Two Days Without You”, has been published on Fanfiction.net and AO3 (and if links to websites aren’t your thing, the chapter is posted below for your viewing).

If you haven’t read 1095 Days Without You yet, there is no time like the present to start. The fic is a drabble series highlighting moments during the three year separation period where Kagome realizes that a world without InuYasha isn’t one she can call home. 

Chapter Six: Thirty-Two Days Without You

“Hey, Kagome!” InuYasha barked from the opposite end of the hallway and Kagome’s shoulders slumped, her brand new blue blazer too stiff to imitate the motion. It was hard to believe that she discovered the correct wish, purified the Sacred Jewel, and returned through the well with InuYasha over a month ago. Life certainly changed for her—for all of their friends—and Kagome was happy to volunteer her drastic transformation from middle schooler fretting over an evil half-demon and high school entrance exams to a high schooler predicting her friend’s next comment with almost psychic accuracy. ‘InuYasha’s picked you up for the third time this week; things are so serious,’ Kagome thought to herself as Ayumi tucked a small chuckle behind the back of her hand.

“This is the third time this week,” Ayumi said, that small laugh peeking out from between her fingers. Kagome groaned and, honestly, she didn’t care if InuYasha heard it. If he did, the sheen in his amber eyes hardly showed it as he stopped in front of the two school girls. Ayumi landed a playful jab to Kagome’s arm, turning her focus to the half-demon. “I was just about to tell Kagome that you picking her up is so sweet.”

In typical InuYasha fashion, InuYasha turned his nose to the ceiling. “Well, I wouldn’t have to come ‘n get her if she didn’t take so damn long to leave,” he grumbled, a contradictory haze of pink spreading across the bridge of his nose.

Kagome rolled her eyes.“Okay, okay—let’s just go home already,” she carped, placing her hands against his back and pushing him down the hallway. InuYasha’s feet scrambled to keep up with the motion but the longer the three congregated, the more likely it was for whispers of the temperamental delinquent boy—not student—to finally reach her teachers. It wasn’t that Kagome was ashamed to be seen with InuYasha. As a matter of fact, the truth was far from it. These new days of peace were overflowing with late-night kisses, confessions, touches, and conversations. Yes, Kagome was confident that if her life changed in any other way, it would be a nightmare.

Still, InuYasha had a lot of learning to do when it came to the customs of the Modern Era. The teachers of this school would never know he was a half-demon from the past. And that’s why they'd forbid him from entering the building if they thought he was just a boy. Kagome loved InuYasha, but even the thought of reasoning with him on the matter gave her a headache.

Kagome turned her head back to Ayumi. “Meet you at the train station tomorrow?”

-X-

The overall frigid A/C in Seiyu Supermarket had nothing on the teeth-chattering Arctic tundra that its frozen meat and seafood section omitted. Kagome was relieved that she and InuYasha managed to come out on the other side after thirty bone-chilling seconds.

“Where’s the ramen, Kagome?” InuYasha asked instantly, nearly leaping in the air as he turned around to face her. Excitement exuberated from the tips of his white fuzzy ears all the way his pointed toes. Clearly, the extra cold atmosphere hadn’t affected him. Must be a half-demon perk, and those billowing pants.

Instead of answering her boyfriend, Kagome found herself drawn to the easygoing smirk he sported. Without Naraku hovering over him, InuYasha’s shoulders seemed lighter; his smiles more genuine. He looked at her with these wide, golden eyes that couldn’t possibly know hardship.

The schoolgirl turned priestess hoped these grocery store trips Mama made them take would be a part of their future forever.

Even though a forever with InuYasha was a wonderful fantasy to build in her mind, the present unfolded before them both and there was ramen waiting. Kagome shook her head and took InuYasha’s hand, leading the way. InuYasha boldly tangled his fingers between hers, all while continuing to gape at their surroundings. “How does your world have so much food?”

“Distributors?” Kagome answered, albeit not confidently.

InuYasha plunged his focus back down to her eye level. “Dis—what?”

Kagome waved him off, pointing to several long, packed shelves. “Well, never mind that InuYasha, look: ramen!”

Kagome’s world enchanted InuYasha; the unadulterated merriment and unabashed exploration he’d taken to shown while he vigorously inspected ramen flavors. It reminded her about his habit of wandering through the halls of Yosono High. She had to at least try getting him to stop. While she pondered the best way to approach the topic, she realized that it felt like hours since they left school which was strange. It had only been minutes. She couldn’t explain it, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t attempt asking InuYasha to change their after school meeting place.

“You know you could wait outside for me,” Kagome started.

Without missing a beat or tearing his attention away from scanning for the right flavor, InuYasha simply stated, “If I wait outside, you’ll just get distracted.”

“That’s not true! You’re going to get me in trouble,” Kagome huffed.

“Haven’t yet.”

Like a chest puffed out in pride, Kagome’s bottom lip protruded. Only she wanted to draw InuYasha’s focus to it so he could see her absolutely pouting.

A light of recognition sparked in his eyes and for a split second, Kagome believed he had a tidbit to add to their conversation. Of course, she ended up watching InuYasha grab four cups of ramen—two in each hand—from seemingly opposite ends of the shelves instead.

“InuYasha,” Kagome whined.

“Yes?” He asked, lowering all of the styrofoam cups into their already full green basket.

Maybe it was the way he had answered her with such gentle sincerity or maybe it was because she missed him so much that waltzing into a potential argument—Wait. She missed InuYasha. The idea sent her reeling backward.

“I—I, I miss you, InuYasha,” she stuttered, brows furrowing together. “How is it possible that I miss you when we’ve spent every single day together since we defeated Naraku and the Sacred Jewel?”

“The Sacred Jewel?” InuYasha asked, cocking his head to the side, appearing way too cool. How was he this calm? Couldn’t he hear how quickly her heart was beating—it shook her veins with absolute force. That was when Kagome realized it.

“The Sacred Jewel.”

With a resounding beat, her best friend and their entire lives faded into infinite darkness.

“Sacred Jewel!” Kagome shouted, eyes searching for a familiar sight. Soon thereafter, as if calling out its name was the same as summoning it, the Jewel appeared with the arrow she shot a few moments before Naraku passed. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You really thought that you could defeat me?”

“But InuYasha and I—”

“InuYasha was never here,” the Jewel cut her off. The choir of demons speaking within continued, nearly paralyzing the priestess.“He’s never coming.”

What the jewel was claiming didn’t make sense. Kagome swore she already lived through this experience. Despite all of the odds, InuYasha rescued her and she went home. They went home. She already endured this awful limbo, she’d endured the taunting. She spent three days alone. “No, that can’t be true!” If he needed to, InuYasha would find a way to her once more because the girl who overcame time and the boy who was just overcome were much larger than any jewel.

“Don’t you understand? This is where you’re meant to be,” The Sacred Jewel insisted and it paused, maybe anticipating a gasp from Kagome. She remained silent. “Well, we showed you a vision of what your life could be...”

“What are you talking about?” Kagome asked and it was then that she caught sight of retired green and white fabric. ‘No way...’

“Would you like to return to the world you saw?” Kagome’s body erupted into a cold sweat, and as she clutched her fists, she realized her bow was gone. There was nothing here. “All you have to do is wish for it and you can return.”

“InuYasha!” Kagome wailed. InuYasha and her life together hadn’t been an illusion. There was no way the Sacred Jewel showed her another vision. If it was trying to get Kagome to make a wish, she’d refuse. Especially if wishing meant she’d lose InuYasha.

“InuYasha!” The high schooler called out again without any response. The Sacred Jewel stopped taunting her. “What have you done?” She asked, voice shaking from nerves. No answer. Kagome’s breath quickened. This wasn’t right. There was no way that she was still trapped.

“InuYasha!” She screamed, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. She missed him so much.

The jewel faded into black but Kagome hadn’t noticed. The only thing that mattered was finding a spec of red, a dash of stark white hair, a peek of amber eyes that glowed. The darkness was consuming her as she waited for InuYasha. Just the sound of his voice would put her at ease. She just needed to talk to InuYasha. If only she could hear him. “InuYasha...” Her tears seared her cheeks and without warning, an even sharper pain struck her in the middle of her back. It sent straight into the light.

“InuYasha!” Kagome exclaimed, gripping the sides of her desk and throwing her body into an unsteady standing position.

The cringing sound of 32 chairs screeched against the floor as 33 pairs of eyes, including Ms. Suzuki’s, faced Kagome. The high schooler’s breathing slowed, but her heartbeat skyrocketed. “Higurashi,” Ms. Suzuki began, rearranging her glasses so they laid higher on the bridge of her nose.“Hallway—now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kagome rushed to say, cheeks turning the same shade of red as the Robe of the Fire Rat.

[queenofallthewrongchoices]

And He Lets the Chips Fall Where They May

Series: The Freshman  

Synopsis: This fic takes place in The Freshman book 1 in between chapters 15 and 16. I’ve been replaying The Freshman over for the hundredth time and always wanted a better glimpse at what the conversation between Chris and Becca was like when he suddenly realized that he wanted to go to the winter formal with the MC instead of her, so this is my take on that conversation. 

Pairing: Chris x MC (Nadia)

Characters: Chris and Becca with mentions of the MC

No real age restrictions but there is some very mild suggestive language

Author’s Note: While writing has been a long-time hobby of mine, this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written and the first time I’ve written a piece work featuring characters that aren’t mine. I know it’s both lengthy and wordy but I tend to write how I talk so forgive me. 

Chris walks up the steps of the large sorority house he’d been residing in for the past couple of months, he can’t help but notice an uneasiness weighing down on him. While his heart was never truly in any of his dealings with Becca, he had convinced himself it was inconsequential because it was all in the name of having a good time. It was his first semester of freshman year, after all, and he was only interested in cutting loose, unwinding, and forgetting she who shall not be named. Trying his best to avoid anything serious at all costs. Admittedly so Becca, in a lot of ways, provided that for him. She was a little older and more experienced, so she often took the reins in their “relationship” in all aspects, which was new yet exciting. Or at least it had been.

Any other guy would’ve been overjoyed at the prospect of shacking up in a sorority house with a bunch of beautiful carefree college girls, and at first, he himself was quite delighted by the notion. But for some reason Chris couldn’t shake the thought of one specific girl who had charmed him from the very first moment he had laid eyes on her. He kept telling himself that it was for the best that he kept his distance. He wasn’t ready for a relationship and he didn’t want to hurt her any more than he already had. That was all true, and yet his mind continued to wander to what seemed to be a far-off reality of them being happy together.

He decided to put those thoughts to rest for the time being as he knocked on the large oak doors of the Kappa house. Becca had texted him excited about the dresses she had purchased for the big winter formal scheduled for that weekend and wanted his opinion since he was her date. “It’s important that we make a statement together as a couple.” She said. A concept that he thought he left behind in high school but he didn’t question it. He didn’t question much, as of late. He was just going with the flow. No expectations. Just fun. But his lackadaisical attitude seemed to be leading him towards real relationship territory with Becca and that was something he didn’t like. Although he had made it quite clear to Becca that he wasn’t interested in defining their relationship now or any moment in the future, she still felt an ownership over him. And could he really blame her? He had been sleeping in her bed on and off for the past several weeks, he had drunkenly admitted to her some heavy things concerning his dad he hadn’t told anyone, and they’d been engaging in all manners of hooking up over that time frame. So yes, she wasn’t wrong to have expectations of what they were becoming. But still the whole thing was uncomfortable for him. Here he was, Mr. Hypocrite, doing all the things he said he didn’t want with a girl he knew he didn’t want them with.

Suddenly the door swung open, pulling him from his thoughts as he was greeted by a familiar redhead who he saw regularly during his visits to the Kappa house. She was a sophomore who was dating one of the upperclassmen football players named Reggie. Her name was either Amber or Cassidy. He could never seem to remember despite her constantly reminding him. He was ashamed to admit it but all the Kappa girls sort of meshed together these days, none of them having any real distinguishable personalities, at least not to him.

“Oh, hey Chris. I should’ve known it was you. Becca’s upstairs in her room.” She said in a loud sing-songy voice. She seemed tipsy undoubtedly pregaming for some party, kickback, or another.  “Hey, thanks.” He said as he walked in. She answered with a smile and nod then returned to her awaiting pre-party cocktails and friends, more members of the sorority he recognized, all huddled around the island in the kitchen.

Her familiar greeting was another thing that didn’t sit right with him. He had become too much of a staple in the house. Football players frequenting the Kappa house wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Oddly enough it was sort of tradition at Hartfeld. The politics surrounding the dating scene amongst the Kappas and the football team reminded him of that of the Pink Ladies and the T-Birds from Grease. The Kappas were the football players’ girls and vice versa. They had first dibs on one another and everyone else, meaning the rest of the Hartfeld population, had to get in line. Even with that knowledge he still felt conflicted. Was Becca at her core truly a cool girl to be around and very different from the off-putting stuck up persona she portrayed to the general public? Yes, unbelievably so. But his heart just wasn’t in it. A fact that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Regardless there was no point in dwelling on it. He turned and closed the door before heading up the winding stairs leading to Becca’s room.  

And before he knew it there he was. Standing outside Becca’s bedroom door glancing at the jewel encrusted “B” that adorned it. It was so regal and so Becca. Hanging from the doorknob was a yellow sign fashioned after a yellow light indicating to anyone seeking entry into her room that they should “Slow down and knock first”. She also had a green one that read “Go ahead and come in” and a red one that read “Stop. Don’t even think about it.” The red one was only used if she wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever petty squabble her sorors had found themselves in or when she was trying to set the mood with someone in particular, that someone being him as of late.  

One knock was all it took before he was greeted by the stunning leggy blond. He couldn’t help but admit that Becca was indeed gorgeous. She was attractive in an obvious and conventional way. When he first met Becca, he couldn’t help but think that she looked like your typical mean girl that served as a foil to the female lead in a classic young adult comedy film. She immediately pulled him into a hug and gave him a quick peck on the lips before she ushered him into her room. “There you are. Finally. I’ve been dying to show you the dresses I picked out.”

The room that was normally so neatly put together looked like a department store after a huge weekend sale. Scattered around the room were a different assortment of dresses of varying lengths and colors.

“I admit that I may have went a little overboard at the mall but they all looked so cute on me. Luckily you get to watch me model them and help me decide which one best compliments my amazing body.”

“Can’t wait.” He chuckled to himself. Becca was definitely the most high maintenance girl he’d ever met. He didn’t mind though. It was something he found charming about her believe it or not.

“Good. I’ll try this red number on first. Red always looks good on me. Something I’m sure you can agree with.” She says flirtatiously. She gives him a devilish wink and scurried to her closet to change.

While he waited, Chris pulled up his Pictogram account mindlessly scrolling to pass the time. His fingers landed on one post from Nadia that cost his attention. The caption read, “Throwback to last summer visiting family in Miami. The sun was good to me that day.” And there she was, sporting the most brilliant smile he’d ever seen on her. Her eyes were closed, face tilted up toward the setting sun as it cast an angelic glow across her features. Her brown skin was a couple shades darker than usual undoubtedly tanned from being out in the sun. Her wavy hair was longer here. It cascaded in waves over her shoulders and down her back with a complimentary red flower tucked neatly above her right ear. She looked breathtaking. That was the only way to describe it. He stared at the picture for what seemed to be an eternity memorizing every little detail. Completely and utterly captivated.

“Ahem. Chris I said what do you think?” Becca said in a familiar annoyed tone. He was so distracted that he hadn’t realized that she had returned to the main room let alone that she was talking to him.

“Oh, my bad Becca. You look great.” He said slightly embarrassed sitting up a little straighter in his seat. And she did honestly. The dress was an off the shoulder long flowing gown that hugged her figure in all the right places. Although Chris’ compliment was mostly genuine he still couldn’t help but notice how flat it sounded to his own ears. He only hoped that Becca didn’t notice.

“Boys.” She said in a dismissive yet playful manner. “I know you’re only interested in what’s underneath it.” She said. “Oh well I still have an assortment of gowns to try on so you’re just going to have to fake interest Mr. Powell. I promise I’ll make it worth your while later.” She gave him a smirk that otherwise would’ve been sexy if his mind wasn’t elsewhere and grabbed a strapless black dress to try on next.

While she changed, his thoughts began to wander once more. This time he thought about the formal and wondered if Nadia was going and if so with who. James no doubt. They had been spending a lot of time together lately and they were obviously attracted to each other. James was indeed an attractive guy. He was secure enough to admit it. Honestly James was an ideal match for just about any girl especially Nadia. He was good-looking, studious, a real gentleman, slightly older so more mature, and rich. What’s not to like? They seemed to have a lot in common. Way more than he had with her anyways.

This whole line of thinking made him feel guilty and a little hypocritical because here he was making plans to go to the formal with Becca and he was worried about who Nadia, a girl he rejected, was spending her free time with. But he couldn’t help it because deep down he knew that she was the one he wanted to be with. The chemistry they had was undeniable. Anyone who had ever been around them long enough commented on it. But he was afraid. Of what at this point? He was no longer sure. All his past reasons now seemed like mere excuses.

Becca modeled gown after gown each one more gorgeous than the last but her indecision began to set in as she started to retry on certain dresses that exuded the right amount of elegance and sex appeal. Or so she phrased it.

“There all cute I suppose but it has to be perfect.” She says in a huff becoming annoyed with her own indecision. “Have you already rented your tux? You don’t seem to be concerned with what you’re wearing.”

“Yeah. I still have the one from the sorority ball.”

She scoffs and shakes her head. “Boys. I swear you guys have it so easy. Here I am indecisively picking through a dozen dresses to wear and you’re simply settling on a tux that you’ve already worn. Luckily it looks so good on you.” She says flirtatiously once more.

At this point, Chris had grown tired in both a literal and mental sense of this entire conversation. It had been two hours of watching Becca model dresses for him and the more he thought about it the less the whole idea of going to formal with her interested him.

Nadia had been consuming his thoughts all night long. Her smile, her laugh, the way she cocked her head to the side when she talked to him. He could no longer ignore what he was feeling. It was quite simple. He wanted to go to the formal with her.

He wanted to see her in a beautiful gown with an expertly made up face just for him. He wanted to hold her on the dance floor, swaying to some romantic R&B hit while the world faded around them, and he wanted to close the night out with her peacefully laying her gorgeous head on his chest as the collective sounds of their heartbeats lulled each other to sleep. And it pained him to think that James or anyone else could possibly experience those things in his place.

Becca continued to make mindless conversation regarding the formal in the background as he finally came to the realization that he had known all along.

“Becca, I can’t do this.” He said.

“Oh fine. I’ll just ask Madison to help me. I should’ve known that as a guy you wouldn’t be all that interested. It’s fine. Just help me out of this dress and maybe we can go grab a bite eat.”

“No. I mean…” He hesitated. “I mean I can’t go to formal with you.”

His words seemed to echo shortly followed by an immediate uncomfortable silence as they stared at one another. Becca’s expression was completely unreadable. No trace of sadness or anger. Just completely blank. Maybe there was a taste of confusion mixed in but he wasn’t completely sure. He began to avoid her gaze.

She eventually broke the silence with a long and exasperated sigh saying, “Well are you going to at least give me an explanation or continue sitting there with that dumb look on your face? And please don’t tell me this has anything to do with that skinny, fashion-challenged freshman.” And there it was anger and annoyance perfectly mingling together across her features.

He hated having to admit that her assertion was correct but lying would be an insult to them both at this point.

He nodded with an apologetic look and began to say, “Sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you or anything. I just…”

“Oh please.” She cuts him off. “Just go. Whatever pointless thing you’re about to say next you can keep. Your energy is better spent on whatever crackpot apology you’re going to run by Nadia.” She gives him an unfazed look undoubtedly to mask the hurt and embarrassment she feels and walks back towards her closet to change out of her gown.

Chris stands there a little while longer debating on whether he should go try to apologize once more or leave. He settles on the latter. Becca’s anger was justified and he felt like crap doing this to her, but more than anything he felt a greater sense of urgency to get to Nadia and try to salvage what was left of their relationship. If he could even call it that.

He hurriedly dashed down the steps and out the door towards his car. He drove as fast as the speed limit would allow towards the parking lot of the freshman dorms. All he could do at this point was hope and pray that he wasn’t too late.

[queeruma]

GIL GIL GIL GIL GUY THE WONDERFUL BI I love me some gil hes such a sweetheart too good for this world the sea three relationship is so amazing and I'm so happy you got your pin and oooo your cat is so cute I'm glad your day is going well :D *runs in circles* what's your favorite color and favorite book and do you like turtles and do you have a list of favorite movies? I am hugging you *hugs gently* do you enjoy rise of the guardians

Gil is an angel and we’re thrilled he’s here xD

Idk if I have a favourite colour?? I love teal (didn’t used to love it so much but now it reminds me of Uma), gold, purple, black, dark red, almost all blues, and greens when they look natural, like moss or amber green. Jewel tones, basically?

I have way too many books that I love!!! I tend to read either kids stuff or non-fiction - it’s hard for me to find ‘adult’ fiction that I like. The Bone Dragon by Alexia Casale is an absolute favourite, although it’s pretty dark. The Harry Potter series, the Skulduggery Pleasant series, The Girl who could Fly by Victoria Forester, the 1st and 2nd Hunger Games books, the 1st Dark Materials book, the Shiver trilogy by Maggie Stiefwater (i keep meaning to read her other stuff)… All of these are old favourites though - most of my reading these days is fanfic or non-fiction. I’m currently reading ‘A Mouthful of Air’ by Anthony Burgess, which is really good so far.

Turtles are awesome. I don’t think I’ve seen one irl, except possibly at an aquarium once or twice, but they’re adorable, and whenever I hear about them I think of this video!

Some favourite movies (i will inevitably have forgotten some):

Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse

Any film by Hayao Miyazaki, but particularly Nausicaä

The first Twilight movie (it’s a masterpiece)

Labyrinth

Treasure Planet

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (birates!! BIRATES!!!!)

Hoodwinked (the first is phenomenal, the second Didn’t Happen)

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Black Panther

Moana

Ocean’s 8

And are you psychic??? Rise of the Guardians is one of my favourite films of ALL TIME!! IT’S SO GOOD AND SO PRETTY AND THE CHARACTER DESIGN IS AMAZING AND I LOVE JACK FROST WITH ALL MY HEART AND PITCH IS SO TRAGIC AND SUCH AN ASSHOLE AT THE SAME TIME AND I LOVE ALL THE GUARDIANS AND GODDDDDDD

(one day i will get round to reading the books, i promise)

what about you anon???????? tell me your favourite things! books, movies, music??? if you have recommendations I’d love to hear them!! (that goes for anyone else reading this, too. i want more things to read/watch/listen to!!)

[priortodaybreak]

so my friend dared me to put one of my ‘original works’ here so ya’ll are gonna get my DnD characters backstory bc thats the only thing i’m moderately proud of. absolutely no need to reblog or read, it’s going under the cut. thx

Mareep was born 30 years ago, in a deep underground cavern carved out into a hill within a lush green forest. Mareep was born an Urd—leathery yellow wings pressed tight to her back, still thin and unable to hold her weight just yet, with dark brown eyes—practically black in the darkness of the cavern system.

She hatched the same time as her twin sister—Seri, a small yellow Kobold with amber eyes. They were inseparable for the first few years of life, even when Mareep was taken out of the caverns to get flight lessons from a few older Urd. Mareep would shirk her lessons to find her sister, telling her all about the world outside the caverns with sunlight that would hurt her eyes, creatures she could spot tramping through the undergrowth, and the answers to the unrelenting questions she would have for the elders. They would speak for hours in a hidden cavern branch, where sometimes it would take a whole day for an adult to find them.

Seri wanted out of the caverns. Yellow is an unnatural color for Kobolds, and everyone made sure the sisters knew they weren’t like everyone else. Mareep was ‘acceptable’ because of her wings—she could be an asset to the colony, even with her obnoxious coloring. But Seri wasn’t so lucky—she wasn’t magically inclined, as some Kobolds could be from a young age, so she didn’t get special instruction. But Seri was fast—racing through the caverns with Mareep was one of her favorite past-times.

Seri wanted to be an adventurer—she would find a dragon for the clan, one that was powerful and strong, and then she would be accepted—even thanked. Mareep had no such ideals—she found the special treatment because of color or extra limbs to be distasteful—her tail would whip angrily every time a Kobold told them to stop racing through the caverns, especially when they eyed her beloved sister with distain. Seri didn’t understand her sister’s anger and distance the clan—they were Kobolds, and Kobolds stuck together, even when they didn’t really get along. But Mareep was loyal to Seri—going along with whatever her sister wanted, and if she wanted a dragon, then by Tiamat she was gonna get her a dragon.

One day, Mareep found her sister sulking in their carved-out quarters after Mareep angered the elders again with her onslaught of questions. During Common lessons, some of the other young Kobolds cried out and shrank and wailed at the sight of Seri—warbling about sunlight in the caverns hurting their precious eyes. It was a common insult, comparing them to sunlight, but this time Mareep could see it hurt her sister a bit more deeply.

So she suggested a run. Running always made Seri happy, and this time was no different.

Except they went farther than normal—squeezing through cracks and going deeper than the glow-stones traveled.

Mareep fell behind, calling for her sister to slow down, to wait for her, when there was a booming crash and a short cry. Mareep quickly found the place where the floor collapsed, and underneath was old catacombs. Slimy and moldy with a foul stench, Mareep spread her wings and entered without a second thought, gliding down to where her sister was pulling herself out of rubble.

They didn’t see the Ooze until it was almost on top of them.

Seri had hurt her foot in the fall—she couldn’t climb. Mareep grabbed her sister and tried to fly—she wasn’t strong enough to get more than a few feet off the floor. Mareep was scared—all those bedtime stories of Oozes coming after young Kobolds who didn’t follow rules were coming back to haunt them.

Seri was brave.

“We can take it!”

“What?! Seri, it’s huge-”

“So is everything else! Come on, drop stalactites on it! I’ll distract it!”

And it worked! Mareep would fly up and strike at the stalactites above the creature, cracking them and having them fall to strike the monster. Seri was still fast, even with her injury—she would run and dodge and taunt the creature.

Finally after one last large falling rock, the creature was dead. Seri cheered for her sister as Mareep clung, tired, to one of the remaining stalactites. Movement caught Mareep’s eye, and she gasped.

“Seri, look out!”

A second Ooze, clinging to the wall, fell fast and hard onto Mareep’s sister.

“Mareep, run! Run!” Seri shouted, clawing at the ooze, wide amber eyes darting around in fear to see other oozes falling from the walls.

“Seri-!”

“Find my dragon!” She cried out before being consumed by the black pudding.

Mareep still hates herself for running. They were eight springs old.

The elders flew into a panic—Mareep took them quickly down to the caverns again, begging the fighters to save Seri.

They just closed off the cavern with mud and fire—creating a thick wall with no cracks, nothing the Oozes could seep through.

Mareep injured three older Kobold in her fury before they could subdue her.

She was angry with her clan—she understood, logically, why they did what they did, and she hated herself for understanding. But she hated the Oozes more. She would analyze the fight before sleeping, running through her last moments with her beloved sister over and over again. She questioned any and all Kobold fighters about the nature of Oozes—where they were found, what kinds, what they could do, how they could fight.

The archers took to her—they liked her drive, her single-mindedness. They taught her how to shoot, how to hunt in the forest—her wings gave her an advantage in the treetops, surprising enemies and giving terrain details to the lead hunter to set up traps and flank enemies. When Mareep turned ten springs, she was taken on routinely raids and more frequently into the nearest towns to trade jewels for clothing and weapons.

It took 5 springs, but she soon amassed enough knowledge and survival gear to leave her clan and embark on her own.

She was on her own for 4 years, sticking to the familiar terrain of forests before she was captured by an Orc group. They shackled her and caged her, and after a year of wandering to towns and cities and being bartered over in back alleys she was sold to a Human warlock named Alesil De la Hera.

Alesil was old and bitter. He was looking for a slave—concealed by the title ‘assistant’ to protect his ‘name’. He worked as a Public scribe—sitting in dusty stalls for hours on end, writing letters for those less fortunate to be able read, let alone write. Mareep would keep his water skein full, keep his desk clean and his writing implements sharp, and use her wings to fan him when there was no breeze.

The first time she tried to run, he found her within minutes and cast Eldritch Blast—Mareep learned very quickly not to run.

Alesil was partial to ale and would often lament over his lost job—for quite a number of years he was a Court scribe, working under royalty to record official documents and write beautiful letters for nobles. But no matter how much Ale Mareep would fetch for him, or how she would fawn and grovel to him, he would not reveal why he had to leave the lap of luxury for a dusty stall.

Mareep, full of questions but having a healthy fear of her master, would seek answers in the multiple tomes he kept in his modest home, reading in the dark to prevent waking Alesil. At one point she unearthed his book of spells and could not bite her tongue fast enough the next morning.

“You could just get an Unseen Servant to do it.” She grumbled but shrunk in fear when Alesil’s head snapped up from his breakfast to hold her with his eyes.

“How do you know that spell?”

“I mean no disrespect, o’ great Master Hera-!”

“Answer the question, Urd.”

“…I read it, Master. In your book of spells.” Mareep squeaked, tail coiled tight around her leg.

“…You can read common.”

“Y-yes, Master De la Hera. Read and write. As well as Draconic.” Mareep said, no immediate punishment making her raise her snout to look at her master.

“The Orcs told me you were a stupid creature, ousted from your clan for your color, but quite good at groveling to higher powers.” He said, and Mareep visibly bristled, tail unwrapping to swish once.

“Just because I am small does not make me simple.”

Alesil laughed, causing Mareep to pause.

“Right you are. And what thoughts do you have on my letters?”

“That you write for the illiterate?” Mareep clarified, causing Alesil to nod. “You speak only the truth in the letters—even if it is not what the person wants. It is…admirable.”

Alesil laughed again. Mareep was unnerved, but no longer afraid.

“To answer your question, little one, I do not use an Unseen Servant because I like being able to see the people who work for me.”

“So you’re just a bastard.”

“A bastard who can instruct actual people on how to properly maintain my tools. Come, time to go to the stall.”

After that interaction Mareep fielded more questions at Alesil, who would answer depending on his mood. He would throw piles of paper at the Kobold, requiring her to organize them and read the information contained within, then quiz her on the information later. He taught her how to write perhaps a bit more elegantly, instead of what he called ‘dragon scratch’.

He eventually learned her name, but refused to call her by it in public—perhaps to maintain the ‘assistant’ air he so often tried to keep on him like a threadbare cloak.

Alesil eventually told her more about his life as a Warlock and a Court Scribe. His pact required him to give souls to maintain his power—the more ‘innocent’ the soul, the more power he would obtain. He started with wild animals, but soon his daemon was no longer satisfied. So, he worked his way into the good graces of a royal and would falsely accuse visitors of forgery or deception against the ruler. They would be thrown in the dungeons, where he would then harvest their soul to give to his daemon.

But while he was a scribe, he discovered something about the royal lineage that the librarians were ordered to hide. One of the older kings was barren—his queen would not become pregnant. So he ordered a handmaiden and a soldier to enter a nearby settlement and steal a babe to raise as their own.

The royal blood wasn’t so royal after all.

He left quickly and disappeared into the masses, but he missed the lavish lifestyle he had. The librarians had come to the conclusion he knew and threatened to have his wealth and title stripped before the king if he did not leave the court immediately. So he made an excuse to the current royalty—that he was getting on in age and wished to retire to a comfortable life. They were angry with his abrupt departure but allowed him to leave with his head on his shoulders.

Under fear of being discovered, he hasn’t told anyone of his findings—who would believe him? And blood doesn’t matter—wealth and authority do, in his eyes, and he had to give both up to continue living and maintain his name (or at least, the fake name he used in their court).

Alesil refused to tell Mareep who exactly the barren king was, because anything he told her eventually made its way to their stall mates—he still received invites to the local pub because of her loose tongue.

They grew close over the years, more like ‘master and student’ and less like ‘master and servant’. Alesil taught Mareep how to read, write, and speak both Dwarfish and Elfish. Mareep would listen more attentively than any student he ever had—drinking in his every word, her mind running fast and sharp, sometimes ahead of her speech and she would slip into different languages (most usually Draconic).

On occasion, when sitting in a stall was unproductive (such as a rainy day) he would take her to the local library or bookshop and introduce her to colleagues passing through, to the local librarians and other Sages. There and only then would he introduce her as his student—sometimes while she was exploring shelves for literature he requested she would catch a fond tone in his voice, but dismiss it as him talking about his Warlock days.

They spent 10 years together. Mareep never felt the burn of a spell except on that first day, and they grew to care for each other over time and through hardships.

One hot spring night, Mareep was startled out of a doze by her Master’s hoarse shout echoing through the house. Grabbing a water skein, she rushed to his room, helping him breathe and drink slowly—when his hands shook too much, she lifted the water skein.

She was dismissed rather harshly, and he locked the door to his room behind her after practically shoving her out. She fell into a fitful sleep and dreamed of the Oozes again after not thinking of them for the longest time.

She missed her sister. Seri would have known how to approach Alesil.

Mareep missed his exit into the storm that shook their roof, and instead nervously shuffled papers and organized books that were already organized. When he returned with adventuring gear made to fit a creature of her size, she was stunned. Nothing could have hinted at this as the result.

“I have an assignment for you, Mareep.”

“Yes, Master Alesil?”

“I need you to search for an answer to this question—don’t look at it now.” He said, handing her the thick parchment, worn soft at the creases. “It is beyond this town’s knowledge. Perhaps some other locations may lend insight. You said you were a Ranger, correct?”

“Am. I am a ranger.” She answered, and he smiled at her.

“Yes, quite right. Here—everything you could possibly need. Wait, one more thing.” He said, rushing off to his chambers before coming back with his calligraphy set. Wrapping it in wax parchment, he set it deep in the adjusted backpack to be protected from the elements.

“Master…”

“I had them specially make the backpack and clothing to fit someone of your stature and maintain your ability to fly. This belt will hold your short-sword and whip. The quiver sits under your arm with a cover to keep the arrows in, and the longbow attaches to it. This is a sheath to attach to your ankle for the dagger.”

“Master.”

“I had to short a few rations and torches to fit the other supplies, but you have excellent vision in the dark so I didn’t see that as an issue-”

“Alesil!” Mareep shouted, stopping his furious packing. “What is this about?”

He pointed to the parchment in her hand. “Bring me the answer to that question and I’ll proclaim you as my student to anyone who will listen.”

Mareep swished her tail at the challenge and nodded firmly. She changed, and he dispelled the magic on her ankle chains keeping her bound to him.

“Good luck, Dragonling.” He said to her at the door, into the pouring rain, and she grinned a mouth full of teeth at her Master.

“I don’t need luck, I’m a Kobold.”

[softshirringsound]

all the books I read this year!!

one of my new year’s resolutions was to read more nonfiction, and I did a pretty good job of it. I didn’t track the books I read the year before, but I know i only read a few nonfiction so I’m proud of myself. my other NYR was to shower more which I also accomplished! anyways, my list of books is under the cut if you want to check it out.

NF is for nonfiction, F is for fiction, A is for audiobook and P is for paperback. any spelling errors on the author’s names is from my horrible handwriting. maybe next year I’ll keep track electronically so I don’t have to struggle through reading my own handwriting lmao

January

1.       Maude by Donna Maybry – NF - A

2.       Revival by Stephen King – F - A

3.       Watership Down by Richard Adams – F - A

4.       The Zookeeper’s Wife by Diane Acherman – NF - A

5.       The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman- F – P

6.       Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin – F – A

7.       Girl on a Train by AJ Waines – F – A

8.       1984 by George Orwell – F – A

9.       Bought and Sold by Morgan Stephens – NF – A

10.   Forrest Gump – Winston Groom – F – A

3  Nonfiction, 7 Fiction. 9 audiobooks, 1 paperback

February

11.   White Trash by Nancy Isenberg – NF – A

12.   Sachiko by Caren Stenson – NF – A

13.   3,026 Days in Captivity by Natascha Kampush – NF – A

14.   Before I Go to Sleep by S.J. Watson – F – A

15.   Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter – F – A

16.   The Darkest Corners by Kara Thomas – F – A

17.   The Shining by Stephen King – F – A

18.   The Blood of Emmett Till by Timothy B. Tyson – NF – A

4 nonfiction, 4 fiction. 8 audiobooks, 0 paperbacks

March

19.   What She Knew by Gilly MacMillian – F – A

20.   Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver – F – A

21.   The Kept Woman by Karin Slaughter – F – A

22.   Fallen by Karin Slaughter – F – A

23.   Criminal by Karin Slaughter – F – A

24.   Unseen by Karin Salughter – F – A

25.   Blindsided by Karin Slaughter – F – A

26.   Kisscut by Karin Slaughter – F – A

27.   Saga Volume 1 by Brian K. Vaughan – F – P

0 nonfiction, 9 fiction. 8 audiobooks, 1 paperback

April

28.   A Faint Cold Fear by Karin Slaughter – F – A

29.   Indelible by Karin Slaughter – F – A

30.   Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn – F – A

31.   Cop Town by Karin Slaughter – F – A

32.   Elizabeth and Michael by Donald Boyle – NF – A

33.   The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty – F- A

1 nonfiction, 5 fiction. 6 audiobooks, 0 paperbacks

May

34.   Snatched by Karin Slaughter – F – A

35.   Don’t Breath a Word by Jennifer McMahon – F – A

36.   Three Wishes by Liane Moriarty – F – A

37.   The Last Anniversary by Liane Moriarty – F – A

38.   When the Air Hits Your Brain by Frank Vertosich Jr, MD – NF – A

39.   The Lies We Tell by Meg Carter – F – A

40.   Brave New World by Aldous Huxley – F – A

41.   The Radium Girls by Kate Moore – NF – A

42.   Nailbiter series by Joshua Williamson and Mike Henderson – F – P

43.   Triptych by Karin Slaughter – F – A

44.   Glass House by Brian Alexander – NF – A

45.   The Marriage Lie by Kimberly Belle – F – A

46.   Busted by Karin Slaughter – F – A

47.   Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth – NF – A

4 nonfiction, 10 fiction. 13 audiobooks, 1 paperback

June

48.   Rosemary by Kate Clifford Larson – NF – A

49.   Lost Girls by Robert Kolker – NF – A

50.   Drink by Ann Dursett Johnston – NF – A

51.   The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman – F- A

52.   The Grown Up by Gillian Flynn – F – P

53.   The Salt Fix by Dr. James Dinicolantonio, MD – NF – A

54.   Broken River by J. Robert Lennin – F - A

55.   Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie – F – A

56.   American Gods by Neil Gaiman – F – A

57.   Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman – F - A

58.   My Story by Elizabeth Smart – NF – A

5 nonfiction, 6 fiction. 10 audiobooks, 1 paperback

July

59.   The Leftovers by Tom Perrotta – F – A

60.   And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie – F – A

61.   Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance – NF – A

62.   Under Your Skin by Sabine Durant – F – A

63.   Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari – NF - A

64.   Truly Madly Guilty by Liane Moriarty – F – A

2 nonfiction, 4 fiction. 6 audiobooks, 0 paperbacks

August

65.   You Have No Fucking Idea: The Story About My Life by Matt Baier – NF – P

66.   The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman – F – P

67.   Carol (The Price of Salt) by Patricia Highsmith – F – A

68.   Waiting to be Heard by Amanda Knox – NF – A

69.   The Miracle of Dunkirk by Walter Lord – NF – A

70.   Replay by Ken Grimwood – F- A

71.   The Woman in Cabin 10 by Ruth Ware – F – A

72.   13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher – F – A

73.   Girl Walks Out of a Bar by Lisa F. Smith – NF – A

74.   The Polygamist’s Daughter by Anna Lebaron  - NF – A

75.   The Dinner by Herman Koch – F – A

76.   American Fire by Monica Hesse – NF – A

77.   The Girls in the Garden by Lisa Jewell – F – A

78.   Kiss Me Like a Stranger by Gene Wilder – NF – A

79.   The Vegas Diaries by Holly Madison – NF – A

80.   I Found You by Lisa Jewell – F – A

81.   Dark Place to Hide by AJ Waines – F – A

82.   The Silver Lining’s Playbook by Matthew Quick – F – A

8 nonfiction, 10 fiction. 16 audiobooks, 2 paperbacks

September

83.   The Lost Girls by Heather Young – F – A

84.   Dead Wake by Erik Larson – NF – A

85.   The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie – F – A

86.   Lie to Me by JT Ellison – F – A

87.   The Sinner by Petra Hammesfahr – F - A

88.   Into the Water by Paula Hawkins – F – A

89.   From a Buick 8 by Stephen King – F – A

90.   A Murder is Announced by Agatha Christie – F – A

91.   Commonwealth by Ann Patchett – F – A

92.   A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith – F – P

93.   The Patron Saint of Liars by Ann Patchett – F – A

94.   Since We Fell by Dennis Lehane – F – A

95.   Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman – F – A

1 nonfiction, 12 fiction. 12 audiobooks, 1 paperback

October

96.   State of Wonder by Ann Patchett – F – A

97.   The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben – NF – A

98.   Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett – F – A

99.   Ready Player One by Ernest Cline – F – P

100. Stardust by Neil Gaiman – F – A

101. Brooklyn by Colm Toibin – F - A

102.  The Monogram Murders by Sophia Turner – F – A

103.  My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix – F – A

104.  The Axeman of New Orleans by Miriam C. Davis – NF – A

105. The Center of Everything by Laura Moriarty – F – P

106.  A Pocket Full of Rye – Agatha Christie – F – A

107.  The Nest by Cynthia D’Aprex Sweeny – F - A

108.  The Chaperone by Laura Moriarty – F – A

109.  Catching the Wolf On Wall Street by Jordan Belfort – NF – A

110.  Hell House by Richard Matheson – F – A

3 nonfiction, 12 fiction. 13 audiobooks, 2 paperbacks      

November

111.  Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention by Manning Marable – NF – A

112. The Secret Life of Introverts by Jenn Granneman – NF – A

113.  My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout – F- A

114.  The Floating World by C. Morgan Babst – F – A

115.  The Good Daughter by Karin Slaughter – f – A

116. Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty – F – P

117. The Rest of Her Life by Laura Moriarty – F – A

2 nonfiction, 5 fiction. 1 paperback, 6 audiobooks

 December

118. Last Breath by Karin Slaughter – F – A

119. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald – F – A

120. The Great Halifax Explosion by John U. Barron – NF – A

121. Dark Matter by Blake Crouch – F – A

122. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng – F – A

123.  The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman – F – A

124. 12 Years a Slave by Solomon Northrup – NF – A

125. The Woman Who Smashed Codes by Jason Fairgrove – NF – A

126. The Magician’s Apprentice by Ann Patchett – F – A

127.  Rabbit  by Patricia Willams – NF – A

128. Being Jazz by Jazz Jennings – NF – A

129. The Secret Life of the Mind by Marianao Segman, MD – NF – A

130. Black Chalk by Christopher B. Yates – F – A

131. The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie – F – A

132. A Caribbean Mystery by Agatha Christie – F – A

133. The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie – F -A

134. Money, A Memoir by Liz Perle – NF - A

7 nonfiction, 10 fiction. 17 audiobooks, 0 paperbacks.

 Total:

134 total books!!

40 nonfiction, 94 fiction. 9 paperbacks, 126 audiobooks.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

please, tell me more about death and the gay barista. where does death get her hair done? why does death like iced chocolate? has death ever considered a netflix subscription?

oh, and one more: has death read the princess bride? does death like the princess bride?

Here are five headcanons about Death and Sephie the gay barista!  (…are they headcanons if it’s my own stuff?)

ONE

Sephie has never seen someone with hair like Death’s.  It’s as thick as sheep’s wool, but perfectly obedient, sleek curls that pile up around her shoulders like snowfall.  Hours of styling, even in a salon, could never reproduce it.  They’re sitting in one of Death’s gardens–phosphorestent blossoms cast an eerie blue-white light over the sleek black walls and the cataract of precious gems pouring into a false river of opal and lapis lazuli and sapphire–and Death’s head is in Sephie’s lap as she plays with the curls.  Sephie stretches one white lock out and it springs back, and Death opens an eye, smiling when she sees Sephie grinning.

“Is it so amusing?”

“Yes,” Sephie says, delighted.  She pulls out another curl and cocks her head as Death opens her other eye.  “Why don’t you dye it anymore?”

“Dye it?” Death repeats, blinking.  Sephie nods, and it takes a moment before her question seems to click in Death’s mind.  “Oh!”  Death laughs a little.  “No, I didn’t dye it.  What color did you like best?”

“The red was nice,” Sephie says, bemused.  Death smiles at her and closes her eyes, and Sephie watches as each hair begins to change, deep venous scarlet seeping through each strand from the scalp until her lap is full of riotous red. Death opens her eyes again as Sephie huffs out a breath of surprise and rakes her fingers through the newly colored mass.

“Do you like it better like this?  I can appear however I choose, this is simply,” Death gestures down at herself, “my preference.”

“I love it,” Sephie says, bending down to kiss Death’s hairline and reveling in the electrical shock of the contact.  “However you want to wear it.  Surprise me.”

TWO

“Where does the food come from?” Sephie asks, evaluating an apple.  It’s crisp and red and perfect, and she knows that when she bites into it, it will be sweet and delicious.  “Why do you even keep food here?”

“The fruit comes from my orchard,” Death says from her throne.  A bowl of pomegranate seeds like drops of blood frozen in crystal rests in her lap, and her fingertips are stained with their juice as she pops one at a time into her mouth.   “And I keep food here because I like it.  And because you like it.”

“You mean those trees actually grow fruit?” Sephie asks, startled.

“Of course.  The rest of the food, I do what I can.  My sister brings me gifts sometimes.  She knows I love Earth food.”

“You mean she knows you have a terrible sweet tooth,” Sephie says, pointing at Death with her apple, and Death smiles, holding out the shallow bowl of pomegranate seeds toward her.  Sephie returns the apple to a dish that she suspects might be solid diamond and walks forward, until Death can neatly pull her into her lap in place of the bowl.  “You can’t fool me,” Sephie says, reeling in the pomegranate seeds to pop a few into her mouth.  They burst cool and sparkling over her tongue.  “I served you iced chocolate every day for years.”

“I do love chocolate,” Death confirms, and stretches up to peck a kiss on Sephie’s lips.  It tastes like pomegranates.

THREE

Sephie doesn’t actually know how many rooms are in Death’s citadel, but then again, Sephie is dead, and has thus reached a state of Zen acceptance about all things.  So when she opens a door one morning and finds a library with shelves twenty feet high, she doesn’t ask a lot of questions.

Death finds her quite some time later, comfortably stretched on a reclining couch upholstered in emerald green with a small tower of books climbing beside her.  Slinking onto the couch beside her, Death coils catlike into the empty spaces left on the surface and insinuates her head onto Sephie’s belly, curls–amber gold today–spilling over them both.  Sephie giggles and laces one hand into Death’s curls, lowering her book.

“What are you reading?”

“I have no idea.  It’s called Resenting the Hero, it’s great.”  Sephie gestures around her at the library.  “What is this place?”

“My library,” Death says.  “I’ve only just added it.”

“Only just?”

Death shrugs against Sephie’s side.  “I never thought to add something purely for the sake of leisure before.  Sometimes spirits spend time in my gardens, or my orchards, but this…”  She looks up at Sephie through her lashes, almost shy.  “This is my own space.  And yours, of course.”

Sephie spends a few moments working very hard not to melt through the couch at that, then clears her throat and says, “Have you ever considered a theater room?”

“A…theater room?” Death says musingly.  “Would you like one?”

Sephie laughs.  “Well, it might be nice to watch a movie together.  You would like The Princess Bride–it’s a classic.”

“I shall look into it at once.”

FOUR

Sephie’s favorite room in the citadel is a cave–or rather, it seems like a cave.  The walls drip with rubies and topaz, garnet and carnelian and amber, the ceiling laden with stalactites, and the floor stacked with pillows in a deep bowl shape.  Bringing a light inside turns the jewels into leaping, frozen fire, and casts fractured glints and glitters across the pillows.

Death doesn’t begrudge her a thing, is more than willing to give Sephie anything she asks for, and when she learns of Sephie’s affection for the place, it begins to mysteriously fill itself with gifts.  Bouquets of glowing flowers from the gardens, blankets and cushions of a fineness that Sephie never saw in life, sweets and books and bowls of pomegranate seeds and apples and cherries.  Death is always shy, when she comes to the fire-crystal room, and insists firmly that it is vital that Sephie have her own space.

Death shouldn’t be so endearing.

But stretched on the floor of Sephie’s fire-crystal room, turning her hair different colors as Sephie feeds her pomegranate seeds, it’s quite undeniable.

FIVE

Death doesn’t sleep.  Sephie doesn’t need sleep, anymore, but Death doesn’t seem to be capable of it.  So Sephie is a little startled to find that Death keeps a bed chamber, well, if palely, lit and ornamented with the same pristine jewels as the rest of the citadel.  The bed is soft and comfortable, a canopied thing with blue and green jewels inlaid in the black stone corner posts, and piled deep with pillows, and the bedside table is stacked with books and one of the shallow bowls of fruit.  Sephie doesn’t need sleep anymore, but more than once she has taken a nap in Death’s bed, purely because it’s so pleasant, and she often wakes up to find Death curled up beside her, eyes open but breath steady and calm.

This is not one of those times.  Death, after a long series of hearings and judgments in her audience chamber, comes to find Sephie in a garden with her usual unerring efficiency.

“Come with me,” Death says, and Sephie–oh, of course Sephie does.

Curled up with her head on Death’s chest, Sephie feels the low crackle of lightning through her nerves, the unmistakable feeling of power from being close to Death.  Death’s hand is tracing Sephie’s jaw as she sorts through the books on the table with the other, and Sephie hums, a pleasant sound vibrating deep through her chest.

“Read to me,” Sephie commands, and Death laughs, the sound even more inhuman at close range, before pulling her hand back with a book.  It’s a plain paperback, with a black and red cover embossed with gold lettering.

“Have you read Sunshine yet?” Death asks, amused, and Sephie smiles.  “I did recommend it to you.”

“You did,” Sephie agrees, and nestles deeper into the pile of cushions  as she tucks an arm around Death’s waist.  Even skin-to-skin, Death has no heartbeat, and her chest only rises and falls so that she can speak, but Sephie has gotten past finding it strange–it is calm, soothing, a level of peace that Earth never offered.

Death kisses Sephie’s hair and opens the book.  “Part One,” she begins.  “It was a dumb thing to do, but it wasn’t that dumb.  There hadn’t been any trouble out at the lake in years…”

[refusaltobow]

A gecko called Kanet

Here is my latest piece! Been working on it for a while but overall I had a blast writing this! This features a few minor headcanons about Redoran and Dunmer, and how Morrowind of the Third Era is seen through the eyes of an innocent child.

A big thank you to @azurasblacksheep for letting me use their characters!:) Garvs is my favourite oc right now and I utterly enjoyed writing a younger version of him. This also hopefully explains a bit why Garvs is such a sad person as an adult.

Garvs Ramarys had never really been to Ald'ruhn’s Market before, he had been past it but never before had he been permitted to visit it. Finally it had been decided he would be allowed to see it, or rather he was being looked after by his eldest brother for the day who needed to pay the market a visit. Something about an armour repair, sword or a guar, Garvs could not quite remember.

Garvs was never one to wander off, a pretty obedient child, he always did as asked and never answered back. However given how busy the market was, and how distracting it was, especially for a 4-year-old child, his hand was being held in the firm, but not-crushing, grip of his eldest brother, Breyesu Ramarys.

Garvs did his best to stay focused on the path ahead but even so the sights and sound, the myriad of smells, it spun his head about. A million things raced passed his vision, many he recognised, but twice as many he did not. The loud voices, engaged in arguments, haggling and debates pounded on his ears. In a way it was too much, forcing Garvs to shield his ears with his robes.

Keeping pace with his brother, Garvs looked up to meet the stern gaze of his brother who seemed almost disapproving of Garvs’ apparent show of weakness. Lowering his arm, he allowed his ears to be assaulted by the flood of noise. The pair were silent as Breyesu led on, wending his way about the stalls. Every so often a flash of colour blazed out from exotic fabrics that waved in the spice-laden warm air.

Turning another corner, they were met with a far more animal smell. The grunts and snarls were familiar to Garvs, he knew guar well enough before he saw one. And sure enough, there they were, guar of various sizes and shades all tied up, others running about the pens. And watching over them, muzzled and bearing bracers were several Argonians and Khajiit. Garvs knew these races worked for the Dunmer, though he was too young to fully understand what the term ‘slave’ meant. Already he had seen a few about the market, transporting goods or following Dunmer with bowed heads, whilst there were not too many, there were just enough to carry out the most minimal or disgusting of jobs. Others accompanied visiting Dunmer, but to Garvs he just saw servants who were happy to carry out horrible tasks.

Garvs would have liked to have watched the guar, but on he was led to a stall and workshop where his brother finally stopped. As his brother knelt down, Garvs turned to look at his brother as Breyesu held him firmly, but gently, by both arms as the older mer looked steadily into his eyes.

“Garvs, I am going to see about a new set of reins we’ve had ordered for our guar. I will not be long. Stay right here.”

“I will,” Garvs nodded to which Breyesu gave a small, but warm, smile as he left his young brother at the entrance of the shop, shutting the door behind him. A bit bored, but knowing not to wander off, Garvs plonked himself on the step and watched the guar from a distance, wondering when he would be able to learn to ride one.

Sighing, he started to play with the ash at his feet, drawing random shapes in the dirt he pondered how long his brother would be.

A sniffing caught his attention, looking up he jumped as he found himself within inches of a rather wide reptilian head, adorned in scales of a thousand jewels. This was not the dull, subdued shade of a guar, rather it breathed life through its skin.

Brilliant emeralds and jades swirled with intense ambers and amethysts. Hypnotised by the array of colours before him, unable to believe such vibrant, bright colours existed he reached out a hand, as if check this thing were real and that he simply had not drifted to sleep in the heat of the day.

As his palm fell against cool, dry scales, a voice startled him from his raptured state. “You never seen one of these before, have you?”

Head snapping up, he saw a Dunmer child, about a year or so older than him peering over the head of the creature.

Standing up abruptly, dusting himself off, Garvs tilted his head as he saw the child was sat astride a gigantic lizard, a beautiful, brilliant melody of colours Garvs did not know to exist and could not stop staring at. How could even such colours exist? It almost hurt his eyes. And its feet… Those toes were like nothing he had ever seen. Just why were they so short and wide? In a way, its feet looked eerily like hands.

Most eye-catching about this creature was the wide yellow-gold streak running from its neck to engulf its tail. Flecked with varying shades of blue and red, Garvs felt like he was staring at a treasure hoard; a carpet of gold, sapphires and rubies.

Looking back at the head of the creature he found himself staring into large, black eyes of intelligence. “No.” Garvs was at an utter loss for words, his eyes flicked back to the child, as if to ask what it was.

The Dunmer laughed, as if finding Garvs’ speechlessness the funniest thing in the world. “I can’t believe you don’t even know what ones of these is, they’re so popular! This is a giant gecko, they come from southern Morrowind and northern Argonia pretty much. They’re also pretty smart, can teach them all sorts of tricks and they can even copy some words!”

“Really?” Garvs raised an eyebrow, refusing to believe that an animal was that intelligent. The guar were reasonably intelligent and even then they could be incredibly idiotic, walking into things even when you clearly told them not to.

“Yup!” The child nodded with a grin. “Watch this!” He dismounted the reptile with practiced ease, holding his finger up, keeping the creature’s attention. Garvs watched bemused as the boy made a series of rapid hand movements, placing a pouch of coins in the reptile’s mouth, followed by a sharp whistle. A surprisingly high squeak came from the massive animal as it scurried off.

Garvs could only watch astounded as it scuttled over to a stall, stood up on its hind legs and placed its forelimbs and the pouch on the stall. Chirping for attention, it nudged the pouch towards the stall owner who could not help but smile at the quite frankly, adorable animal.

Stratching the gecko under the chin, the stallholder examined the contents of the pouch and nodded. Pulling out a bag, she deposited several items within it all while the gecko waited patiently. After counting out the correct amount of coins, the purse was plonked in the bag before the womer gave a quick hand motion well-known to most stallholders.

Obeying, the gecko dropped to all fours, waiting patiently as the womer walked around and secured the sack to the gecko’s back. Giving its chin a final scratch and a gold kanet, the womer sent the gecko back.

And back it came at surprising speed, stopping abruptly before the child. “Well done, Kanet!” He tickled the gecko under the chin, which it really seemed to enjoy as it made a chuffing noise.

“Go on, tickle her under the chin - she loves it!” The gecko, Kanet, looked expectantly at Garvs whilst her owner went to open the sack on her back. Suddenly apprehensive, Garvs bit his lip as he nervously extended a hand. Maybe it was because he had got over his initial shock all his boldness had scarpered.

“She won’t bite!” the child laughed to which Garvs felt his cheeks flushing slightly. Shaking his head, he hardened his gaze. He was a Ramarys of House Redoran after all; he would be not be intimidated by animals!

Reaching forwards, he knelt down to place his hand under Kanet’s chin. Small fingers pressed on the surprisingly pleasant skin, hoping he was not applying too much pressure, Garvs began to scratch the lizard gently under the chin.

Immediately, the gecko’s head started to lift up as her eyes closed and oddly enough, her mouth started to open. As Garvs continued to tickle her, Kanet ambled forwards to press more into the Dunmer. Soon a smile was lifting his lips as Kanet lifted her head higher to expose her throat better.

Now tickling her with both hands, Garvs found himself to be making a noise almost alien to him. He was giggling. For such a young child, Garvs barely laughed, partly due to himself wishing to instil control over himself, but also due to his father disapproving of any form of merriment and coming down harshly on those who expressed such things.

‘Life should be taken seriously, not squandered on frivolous things. Laughter is a sign you are losing respect for our ancestors.’ The words of Giron Ramarys echoed briefly in Garvs’ mind, fluttering away as Kanet suddenly pushed forwards, nuzzling the small child in the chest.

Laughter left Garvs as he patted her head. When was the last time he had felt this happy? Had he ever felt this happy before? Wrapping his arms about her snout, Garvs leaned on her head as he did his best to hug her. Still giggling, he nuzzled her back to feel a pat on his back. Looking up he saw the older child to be at his side, a smile broad on his face.

“She’s great isn’t she? Same age as me and everything.”

“She’s brilliant!” Garvs exclaimed, eyes alight and wide with wonder.

“Yup! Now, er, do you think you could let her breathe?” The child giggled to which Garvs glanced down to find he was still pressed against Kanet’s head.

“Oh right, yes - sorry!” Garvs scrambled off the lizard, dusting his robes off as he stood up straight to watch as the child pulled the sack in front of him.

“Right, so I had Kanet get some stuff for us. These geckos are so smart - you can train them to make deliveries. I think I’ve even heard of some learning how to read maps!” Garvs was for once, not questioning the validity of that statement, such was his joy.

“So, anything you fancy, help yourself!” The boy held the sack open, offering it to Garvs. The toddler peered in, his eyes somehow growing even wider, surely not…? Looking back up, eyebrows raised in disbelief, the older boy nodded, grin still present.

Back to the bag, Garvs took everything in, all wrapped up were individual portions of food of all sorts. Each one had its name neatly written on its wrappings. Sweet...savory...an actual choice… Garvs was so used to be told to eat what he was given, that there was no alternative, that he could not afford to be picky. And now a complete stranger was offering him food, some of which he was not so much as allowed to look at.

Surely this was too good to be true? But what if the boy turned nasty if he questioned him?

Eventually Garvs made up his mind, selecting a single item.

“Just one?” the boy laughed, sticking his hand in and producing about four more treats. “Here, have these! If you want any more, just let me know!”

Mumbling his thanks, Garvs pocketed the food before unwrapping one of the parcels to reveal a single beetle that had been lightly roasted in honey and sprinkled with various spices. Whilst cheap street food, Garvs had never had one of these before, Giron Ramarys always told him that snacking was bad for you. That you did not need to waste money on silly little things.

Hesitant at first, Garvs had soon taken a bite out of insect whereupon his face lit up. Whilst not a fan of sweet things, even as a child, this treat had a beautiful caramelised taste whilst the spices were very much to his liking. Doing his best not to eat the insect in a hurry and actually enjoy it, Garvs found himself unwrapping another treat which amused his companion greatly.

“They are nice aren’t they?...Say, want to go for a ride?” Looking up baffled at the boy, Garvs saw him to nod in Kanet’s direction and immediately stiffened. Surely not…? As much as he wanted to, he was also rather nervous about the whole idea. About the only thing he had even ridden would have been the rocking guar at home, and that thing was old, riddled with countless repairs and flaking paint. In fact Garvs had stopped riding it over feeling sorry for the ancient carving.

“It’s alright, you’ll be clipped in and I’ll be on. You won’t fall. Come on.” Garvs allowed the boy to take his hand, leading him over to Kanet’s side and pointed at a set of straps clipped to the saddle. “I’ll put these round your waist, and I’ll keep hold of you.” Despite the reassurances, Garvs was still very nervous.

“Hey, you won’t fall and I’ll have Kanet go slow alright. What’s your name by the way?”

“Garvs…” Garvs found himself staring at the gecko more and more, considering if he would ever get a chance like this again - to ride such a beautiful animal.

“Well, Garvs, I can assure you Kanet is very considerate of her riders. She won’t doing anything unexpected. I’m Rarvelan by the way.”

Garvs found himself nodding, letting out a yelp of alarm as he was suddenly picked up and placed in the saddle. Looking down he saw the straps to being tightened around his waist, head turning every whichway, Garvs felt Rarvelan sit behind him and reach in front of him to hold the reins.

“Just keep hold of my arms or the saddle if you want to. Alright, Kanet!” Rarvelan whistled and suddenly the sickness that had be brewing in Garvs’ stomach was gone as the gecko shot across the floor and immediately scrambled up the wall to run straight onto a rooftop. Stopping for a second, she surveyed her surroundings before taking off once more, flitting across rooftops and walls.

A surprised yell tore from Garvs’ lips. For a moment he was still as he tried to process what was happening before he found himself leaning forwards to grip the saddle, face pressed close to the leather with tightly shut eyes. Hands clamped to the saddle, he wanted to get off.

Almost immediately the ride came to a halt and a gentle hand was on his shoulder.

“Hey… Are you alright?”

As the hand gently shook his shoulder, Garvs was able to peel his eyes open and himself away from the saddle. Looking to his right he found the older boy to be leaning over with a sympathetic smile. Lips a thin pale line, Garvs struggled to speak eventually deciding to refrain from uttering a single word for fear of how squeaky his voice would be, neither did he wish to admit how he had been gripped by fear.

His rather stiff nod only provoked a lighthearted chuckle from his companion. “Hey it’s alright to admit you were scared!”

At this Garvs’ head whipped around to glare as intimidatingly as a four-year-old can only to find Rarvelan had burst into fresh peels of laughters. Shaking his head, he patted Garvs on the back. “Sorry… Look, we’ll go slowly and gradually speed up.”

Nodding,Garvs remained silent and stared straight ahead, he would not get off this animal, he refused to show his weakness and like a true Redoran, would face his fear head-on and without complaint.

“Alright!...Kanet!” Rarvelan made a different whistle this time, the gecko now merely walking along as Garvs found himself sitting up straight and admiring the view. From the rooftops he could see all of Ald’ruhn as it sprawled out into the ashen wastes. Relaxing a bit, Garvs started to enjoy himself as they crossed the rooftops with not a guard to trouble them. It would appear that at least in the market area, the guards did not care about two small children riding about on a giant lizard on buildings.

A smile started to lift Garvs’ lips just as they started to pick up speed, gradually they began to move faster and more than once did his stomach tighten. He was so tempted to lean forwards, but he hardened his resolve, forcing himself to grip the saddle and sit upright. He was grateful for the gradually increasing speed, allowing him to become more familiar and sure of his safety in the saddle. He was strapped in for gods’ sake! How could he possibly go flying out of his seat?! It was silly really, how he had been so scared just a few minutes ago.

Skimming over rooftops and walls, they were soon back at full speed only this time, Garvs’ face was decorated in a wide grin. The wind tousled his hair as Kanet started to jump from building to building, landing roughly but barely skidding or slipping. Rarvelan was soon whopping with delight, and after a moment’s hesitation, Garvs decided to shove it with decorum and began to yell out in delight and laughter.

Eventually they slowed down with Garvs bubbling with giggles. He was no longer thinking of Breyesu’s instructions or Redoran’s honour, only his immediate happiness. Had he ever had this much fun? Had he ever felt this joyful before? Years later Garvs would look back on this time and recall that he had not, and would not feel an elation close to the one of this day for a long time. Perhaps what made Garvs shed a silent tear from time to time was that that day was probably the happiest he had ever felt. There would be other times where he did feel happy, yes, but not this uncontrollable joy. Never before or since did Garvs Ramarys laugh so loudly and freely.

Barely able to breathe, Garvs could not stop chuckling to himself as Rarvelan unclipped him and helped him off the saddle. “See, you did enjoy it!” he beamed. “Do you want to see some of the other geckos?”

“Yes!” His face alight with joy with a smile that filled his eyes, Garvs uncharacteristically took Rarvelan’s offered hand willing as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The pair started walking with Kanet following at her owner’s side. Springs in both his feet, Garvs was jumping up and down as he yanked on Rarvelan’s arm whilst his free hand made excited gestures and sweeping motions as the toddler gushed about his ride on Kanet.

“It was just amazing! We were going so fast and we was running over the rooftops! When Kanet jumped - WOW! I didn’t think she’d be able to jump that far! She can go fast and the view…!” And so it continued, Garvs’ expression grew wistful as he was gripped by the urge to go beyond Ald’ruhn and see the world outside. His voice grew louder and quicker as he praised Kanet to Aetherius. His companion laughed and nodded along, asking the occasional question and encouraging Garvs’ excitement.

“Ah, Rarvelan, there you are!” Garvs was too caught up in his excitement to register someone was approaching them, only quietening when his companion stopped. A smile still on his face, he looked up and followed the boy’s gaze to see a Dunmer man approaching them with a warm smile.

“Hello Daddy!”

“And who is this?” Rarvelan’s father asked as he looked down at Garvs.

“His name is Garvs - he’d never seen a gecko before!”

“Really?” The man raised an eyebrow, giving Garvs a quizzical look before shaking his head and smiling. “Well no matter, you’ve met one now!”

“We went for a ride!” Garvs exclaimed.

“Oh did you? And you enjoyed it I take it?” he chuckled. “Would you like to meet some more of my geckos?”

Nodding fervently, Garvs started to walk as his companion followed his father. He was trying so hard not to charge on ahead.

“Daddy’s one of the gecko traders - we sell the best geckos in Ald’ruhn pretty much,” Rarvelan explained. There it was again ‘Daddy’, a term of affection Garvs was forbidden from uttering. Well he partly found it childish to use such a word, even though he was only four. But Giron was adamant about being referred to as ‘Father’ or ‘Sir’, any other title only invoked his displeasure. And yet here was a boy two years older then him using such an intimate word freely. A word Garvs in some ways did not believe would ever suit his father. ‘Father’, ‘Daddy’ two words that meant the same thing and yet entirely different things.

Garvs nodded, looking at the boy with wide, fascinated eyes before his gaze was drawn to Rarvelan’s father as he spoke. “You’re from House Redoran aren’t you, Garvs?”

At that Garvs’ chest puffed up, pride swelling within him as he nodded. “Yes. But how did…”

“The scarab on your robes told me.” The man nodded at Garvs’ chest to which the child looked down to see the House emblem blazoned upon his robes.

“Ohhhh.” It was obvious and now Garvs felt quite silly, he had been so excited he had quite forgotten his robes were adorned in Redoran’s symbolic insect. But such embarrassment was quickly forgotten with a chorus of chirps as the trio entered an open space to see a large paddock full of vibrant geckos, splash of paint of a dusty canvas.

Accompanying the chirps was laughter, Garvs had never heard so much. Redoran children were expected to be silent, or at least not show any strong emotion. A small smile was all that was permitted, the halls of the Great House being as jovial as an ancestral tomb. And yet out here, commoner’s children giggle and laughed as they ran and played.

Garvs was never allowed to run, in part to it showing no restraint but also because damaging his clothes was a possible consequence. And yet here he could see several of the children here were adorned in rather fine clothes, indicating them to be House children too. But being but four, Garvs did not truly understand House politics, only could he wonder why he had never really met children from the other Houses before.

Garvs was silent, perhaps a bit stunned at all this happiness confronting him. Rarvelan’s father crouched down behind the boys, a hand on each shoulder.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Garvs, if you want something to eat later, let Rarvelan know and you can eat with us, alright?”

Even more hospitality, Garvs was truly stunned now. Wide eyes and a grateful face turned to look at the Dunmer man as he nodded. “Yes, o-of course. Thank you,” he breathed to which the man chuckled.

“Take good care of him, Rarvelan.”

“I will, Daddy!”

“I know!” Standing up, the man ruffled his son’s hair and cast Garvs a warm smile. “I guess I’ll see you both in a few hours?” With that the merchant left the pair as Rarvelan turned to Garvs.

“Come on! Let’s go say hi to a few of the kids!” At that Garvs visibly shrunk, his gaze becoming fixated on the ground as he chewed his lip. Whilst he had no clue of the consequences of interacting with the children of other Houses, he was incredibly nervous. He had never really played with many children before, and even then it had been quiet board games. What if he made a fool of himself and they all laughed?

“Hey, you alright?” Garvs flinched as his eyes flicked up to find Rarvelan once more crouching in front of him with concern. “It’s alright, they won’t bite! Don’t worry, I get nervous too - meeting new people and all.”

Garvs nodded and straightened up, reminding himself once more to not show fear. Taking it as a sign that Garvs was happy to continue (the toddler however looked quite tense), Garvs felt a reassuring hand on his back as his companion guided them forwards to the paddock. An Argonian was perched by the on the fence by the gate looking as emotionless as always. Those reptilian people could hardly display emotions afterall. At least that was what Garvs saw, to an understanding eye, it was easy to read utter misery in the slave. With the slumped head and missing scales, the homesick being was doomed to die in a loveless land, chained to its choking ash.

Garvs was rather surprised to hear the rattling of chains as the Argonian untied the gate without a word to let the Dunmer pair in. Garvs saw as they passed the Argonian that it was bound to the fence. Strange. Why bind a servant to anything?

Perhaps what was even more peculiar was how the Argonian acted as Kanet passed, the gecko paused, looking up at the Argonian and made a series of clicks and whistles to which the Argonian gave a whistling reply, albeit the sound was muffled in its muzzle.

Looking at Rarvelan in question, the boy shrugged. “The Argonians seem to be able to understand the noises the geckos make a whole lot better than we can. Makes sense really, they’re both lizards in the end.”

Shrugging in return and accepting the explanation, Garvs looked about him and almost immediately jumped as a child probably his age ran up to him. “Hi! What’s your name?”

Garvs’ tongue had apparently swelled way beyond its naturally size for he could not speak. Why was he so nervous?! Fortunately his new friend came to his aid.

“This is Garvs. Garvs this is Ienuryne, she’s a good friend of mine.”

The girl was utterly smeared in mud and a grin, her eyes growing wide as she noted Garvs’ clothes. “Ooooh, your clothes are really fancy!”

“Thanks…” Garvs’ voice was so faint, so meek it was rather embarrassing especially considering he was Redoran. His clothes were nothing more than hand-me-downs. He was a House child, yes, but the Ramarys were hardly wealthy nor a high-ranking noble family. New clothes were a luxury the Ramarys household could seldom afford. At least, not clothes to the standard of a noble.

“Wait, you’re Redoran - cool! Can you swing a sword yet?!”

“Well, I-”

“Ienuryne, don’t pester him! Why don’t you get a few of the others?”

“Alright…” The girl looked a tad disappointed whilst Garvs could only silently thank Rarvelan. In truth, Garvs struggled to even pick up a sword, no matter how much he wished he could.

The girl ran off only to return about a minute later with a small gaggle of children ranging in ages from about three or four to twelve. Each introduced themselves, some were commonfolk whilst others were House children, easy to identify by their house emblems. The Telvanni robes shone whilst the Dres robes were light and flowing (something Garvs found himself rather jealous of - it was hot and he would have liked nothing more than to be dressed in such cool clothing), there were a few Indoril children and a couple of Hlaalu’s.

“Wait, you’re a Ramarys aren’t you?” There were a few Redoran children too, and one of the oldest children there just so happened to share Garvs’ House.

Looking quizzically at the boy, Garvs was a bit dumbfounded. Was he that obvious. “Your family crest…” The boy was pointing to Garvs’ sleeves where sure enough, was embroidered the symbol of Clan Ramarys.

Nodding, Garvs was not sure how this affected anything, or why it mattered but the Redoran boy seemed surprised although he would not say why.

“Why don’t we play a game?” Rarvelan asked to a chorus of agreements. “Garvs, why don’t you pick?”

“Oh, I…” Garvs once more found himself looking at the ground in shame. He knew no games bar ones that involved sitting down, and it was obvious that to suggest such a thing would be rather silly. This garnered confused looks from nearly everyone but that older Redoran boy who was looking at him in a pitiful manner.

“Why don’t we play guar-food?” the boy suggested, coming to Garvs’ rescue to which everyone agreed and some immediately ran off, saying they were going to find a ball. Garvs threw a grateful look at the boy whilst also looking a bit lost. What was guar-food?

“Haven’t you played guar-food before?” Rarvelan asked to which Garvs reluctantly shook his head. “No?! No matter, it’s really fun! So how it works is two of us are guar and everyone else are just Dunmer. The ball is some food and you have to throw it between each other - the guar chase whoever has the ball. The winner is the last one standing. When you’re caught you’re out.”

It sounded like it could get messy, and it sounded fun. Nodding, Garvs’ face started to light up at the prospect of being able to run. By now he had forgotten all about Breyesu and how his brother had probably discovered he was missing by now.

The children returned with a ball and within seconds the game begun as screams of delight and laughter filled the air. And how Garvs ran, yelling and giggling as he tried hard not to be caught and throw the ball as hard as he could. Eventually he was caught but did not dampen his spirits as soon he joined in with another game. As the day wore on Garvs found himself unable to stop laughing as he felt unbelievably free. For once he was not worrying about representing his House.

He did not care if he tripped, nor of the mud painted on his face. As he rode geckos and played games he had no clue existed, as he filled himself with all manner of food he had never been permitted to try. As he laughed louder and harder than he ever thought possible and smiled with genuine joy, Garvs found himself wishing he had been born to a commonfolk family. No House to uphold and such a simple life, he could only hope to do this again soon.

Such was his elation and discovery of childhood fun that at first he did not hear it. He had no clue of the approaching dampener to everything. Running with a gecko and a ball in his hand, the gecko jumped on him, pushing him to the floor. Shrieking, Garvs erupted into giggles as the gecko nuzzled him. Almost immediately the gecko froze as Garvs opened his eyes in confusion. It was then he saw a shadow cast over him and not too far away was a thunderous figure. It looked familiar but Garvs’ eyes were watering from all the tears of laughter he had been crying. In any case, the world was upside down right now.

But when the figure spoke, Garvs instantly froze as he sobered up as his new friends immediately scattered.

“GARVS RAMARYS, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!” It was unmistakable, the commanding tones of Breyesu Ramarys would always shake him to the core. And his brother was not just angry, he was furious. The ground almost seemed to shake as Breyesu stormed over as Garvs gripped the gecko. His mouth had gone dry as he suddenly grew aware of how low the sun was in the sky, of how messy his clothes were.

“Get out from under there!” Breyesu hissed as Garvs remained frozen whilst the gecko only moved itself protectively over Garvs. “Get off him, you filthy creature!” Breyesu glared at the gecko who made no effort to move as Garvs gently patted the lizard, trying not to cry as he eased himself out from under it.

Biting his lip, he stumbled to his feet, face fixed to the floor as he tried to straighten his robes but already he could see it was no use. He could not hide the damage. Clad in mud, riddled with tears, his robes were a sorry sight indeed.

“Look at me, Garvs. And explain yourself now,” Breyesu’s tone was short. “I told you to wait and instead I’ve wasted an entire day having to search for you. Do you have any idea of how irresponsible you’ve been?!” Garvs stopped to look up at Breyesu with wide but fearful eyes as he stared at Breyesu with something akin to disbelief. Breyesu’s voice normally so controlled had wavered. Wavered. It had cracked, as if splintering apart like he was about to cry. Breyesu may not have stated it, but his voice told of his inner turmoil. Garvs could not believe that Breyesu had been that worried about him.

All joy gone, and all thought had long since left him and Garvs found himself unable to speak. He had only ended up here because of Rarvelan, and yet he daren’t speak the boy’s name. He did not want to get his new friend in trouble, a stranger who had shown him such kindness.

In the end all he could croak was, “I’m sorry.” He was so quiet and meek, he might as well have not spoken at all. Furiously he blinked back tears as he snuck glances about him to see all the children were standing back, utterly scared, others being held back by older Dunmer. But once more that Redoran boy had a different expression, one of sadness.

“Sorry?! Sorry will not repair anything, Garvs! Are you going to explain yourself or do you want to explain yourself to Father? Look at your clothes - you have utterly ruined them! You have been playing with children from other Houses! You have disrespected me, you have disrespected our family, you have disrespected our ancestors and House Redoran and all you can say is ‘sorry’?!” Breyesu had not crouched down, choosing to lean over Garvs with the anger of an ash storm. An anger, Garvs reminded himself, that was but a silt strider calf’s warble compared to the fury of Giron Ramarys.

“I am sorry, I-I must have got distracted!” his voice was faultering as he was taken by the coughs of crying. But still he would not cry, he had no desire to throw himself into even more trouble.

“Well you can explain how you ‘got distracted’ at home!” Breyesu snapped, “Now, come with me.” Bresyesu turned on his heel and started walking towards the paddock’s gate but Garvs could not move. Instead his head darted about, searching for Rarvelan where he found him, held back by his father whose face was full of an apology.

Garvs could only mouth that he was sorry to which Rarvelan shook his head, indicating it was not his fault, before mouthing that he was sorry too.

“What did I just tell you, Garvs?” Garvs’ head snapped back to see Breyesu was standing a few metres from him with his back to him. And yet all he could do was croak, his voice failing him.

“You are going to learn to do as you are told, and to do so immediately!” Bresyesu snapped, turning around suddenly to stride back over and grab Garvs’ wrist in a cruel vice. As Breyesu marched out of the paddock, dragging his brother with him, Garvs found his voice as tears erupted from his eyes and screams from his throat.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please, you’re hurting me!” Garvs cried, trying to prize Breyesu’s hand off his own, not that it achieved anything. One last look over his shoulder saw Garvs’ new friends to become horrified specks in the distance, as the toddler stumbled with each step, it was hard to keep up when the person dragging you had much wider strides.

Tears streaming freely from his eyes as he was dragged away, screaming far beyond when his throat grew hoarse, Garvs was numb to the harsh words falling against his ears. He did not understand, what was so wrong about playing? Surely it was good to be happy? Yes, he had wandered off, but Breyesu was acting like Garvs had performed an act of great insult.

Stumbling over his feet, he was scolded for crying, for not walking straight, for all the ‘disrespect’ he had just committed and yet all he could do was sob into his sleeve. Eventually one phrase caught his attention.

“Do you want to make things worse for yourself, already Father is going to hear of you wandering off. However if you do not stop this snivelling then Father will find out about it!” At that Garvs straightened up, doing his best to reduce his crying to sniffs as he dried his eyes. Head bowed, Garvs was caught in the occasional whimper as he did his best to keep up with his brother. As much as he felt sick, he was overcome with sorrow.

Already he knew he would never feel quite such joy again.

Already he knew he would never see Rarvelan again.

[beeblackburn]

What are your other favorite novels besides TSOIAF?

Thanks for the question!

OH GOOD GOD WHERE DO I BEGIN? 

Putting a “Keep reading” cut because some spoilers for the Realm of the Elderlingsseries and much gushing over one… okay, maybe two of the The First Law sequel standalones. 

First off, most of the novels from the Realm of the Elderlings series. (I’m not totally a fan of Golden Fool and even less of a fan of City of Dragons, except for the Malta, Alise and Sedric parts. Seriously, Malta is better than you all.) Hobb has this romantic melancholy that’s dripping with atmosphere throughout her stories. And I honestly like the meandering in her stories. It builds up this idyllic atmosphere and character development before Hobb’s punctures it and her characters with extreme violence inflicted onto them.

But if I had to single out books… Mad Ship, Fool’s Errand, Dragon Haven and Fool’s Quest.

Mad Ship because I kind of love Wintrow’s character arc here, balancing out his introspective tendencies (and condescension, let’s be honest) with the pragmatism of being in very dangerous territory and having to adapt in ways he never expected from the start of the trilogy. And I rather love how it comes out here and the jarring shift in perspective he has to have.

And this was the first book I got really… engaged with Kennit as a person. Ship of Magic, I was more disgruntled and sighing at his distrust of practically everyone, enemies and allies. I liked his character and Kennit was an intriguing bastard, but he lacked a sort-of human dimension for me. Here, it becomes damn clear that Kennit’s been through so much damage.

And his relationship with Etta and Wintrow and Vivicia is just really kind of intriguing and interesting and engaging to read because it felt like new territory for these characters and I love the way they bounced off each other in this book. They fed and worked off each other splendidly and I even got a few sad feels over Kennit with his relationship with Wintrow.

(No, I’m not excusing his behavior in Ship of Destiny, just pointing out that Mad Ship gave Kennit more dimensions for me to sink my teeth into.)

Althea, Brashen and the other Vestrit family members stopped making me slap my forehead a quarter of the time as well! With a common goal and united together, they were a force to reckon with. Shame it didn’t happen a book earlier, but hey, I’ll take what I can get. Paragon and Amber’s relationship was super intriguing (Amber has the best quote in Mad Ship by far) and Paragon is… Paragon. :)

Also, I STOPPED wanting to push Malta off a bridge. Forever. After a book and a half of her being the world’s most brattiest daughter (and bridge-pushing worthy) her POV became a delight to read because she finally got her priorities straight. The intelligence and cunning was always inside her, she just focused it onto other areas.

ALSO SHE STRONGARMED A DRAGON INTO HELPING HER. Heart eyes, yo.

Fool’s Errand was just great because it was the start to a whole new Fitz. A more dangerous, more competent and “not taking any shit” Fitz. He was rude, he was addicted to elfbark, he snapped back at Chade (honestly, I don’t blame him here), he cuts off all sexual relations with Starling after realizing her marriage, he’s quite obstinate to Dutiful and… that scene. Just that scene. If you read the novel, you know the scene.

Also more Fitz and Fool is wonderful. Along with Nighteyes. It’s a great three-way dynamic between all three and Fitz continued to shine as one of my favorite fantasy protagonists ever, showing off an older, mayhaps wiser, Fitz while making me cringe as he keeps retreating, he cuts himself from people he loves and probably love him back because he thinks they won’t care for him or that he’ll just trouble them.

It’s just a really good, self-contained book in my opinion, containing a nice main plot and a few good subplots thrown into the pot. It starts off slow as Robin Hobb books are like to do and subjects you to a tense storyline full of bang fantastic finishes and narrative pay-offs like you wouldn’t believe that hurt. That really hurt and twist in your heart.

I have an irrational soft spot for Dragon Haven. Sedric, Leftrin and Alise’s arcs were all amazing and I love how Sedric and Alise navigated their respective past abusive relationships and forged onward after realizing and accepting how awful their partner was. My heart ached for Sedric and Alise, even when they were screw-ups in their own right.

Fool’s Quest is just the book that Robin Hobb kept breaking my heart every 20-30 pages. It was so packed full of call-backs, narrative pay-offs, tragedy and heartbreak and triumphs and… I actually never wanted to facepalm at Fitz once. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love how deer-headed Fitz can be sometimes, but other times, they made me sigh and see red at Fitz for being an idiot (I’m talking that scene in Golden Fool.)

Here? Absolutely none of that. Everything made dramatic and characterization sense. There’s just a beauty and believable desperation in Fitz’s inner monologue over the circumstances of this novel. I love the way the story is paced, the snowy jewel that is Hobb’s prose, the old characters I meet again (Chade and Nettle) and the new characters I learn more about and like (Shun and Lant) and the settings Fitz treks to. This novel’s what I’d actually consider the best-constructed Robin Hobb story so far. No contest.

My all-time favorite fantasy standalone though? The Heroes by Joe Abercrombie. I love it, I just love it to pieces, I have a lot of embarrassing emotions for it and I’m pretty unapologetic about it. I have reread that book about 5-6 times and it’s still hilarious, insightful, pithy and full of rich characterization that I can chuckle at and feel a twig of empathy for.

It’s full of anti-war imagery and themes, but what I especially love about it are three things in particular:

1. I love how well Abercrombie captures the “sexy” nature of military bureaucracy. He’s done it with West’s chapters in The First Law, but here, he captures how frustrating it is to deal with the chain of command from a grunt and commander perspective, given his shifting POVs and how slow and unreliable communication between the ranks can be in medieval times. 

Good and shit men die, not because the enemy host was stronger or better than their host, but because lack of military intelligence, fog of war, racial prejudice, inability to take advantage of the terrain or inter-military rivalries. Sometimes, your men die because the messenger you sent to give your orders to them got shot by a stray arrow. By sheer luck, men can lose their lives.

Also, Tunny. Tunny is a one-man commentary on military chain of command.

2. The prose. Abercrombie writes battle scenes like no one’s else business. In my opinion, he writes some of the most chaotic, blood-rushing and deafening war scenes ever, perfectly capturing what it’s like for a common soldier to fight in the middle of a warzone… and how utterly nuts it is, given all that clangor and blades flying. Basically, read the “Casualties” chapter. It’s a masterpiece.

But Abercrombie isn’t content with writing visceral, skull-bashing action, he’s also hilarious, full of sardonic asides and witticisms into his descriptions. Basically, every thought out of Gorst and Calder’s head is gold, Gorst’s in how acidic, self-pitying and sarcastic it is (oh my god, the letter he writes to the King of the Union alone… and stuff like this in the middle of a battlefield: “Gorst had the expression of a boy who had been told he could not have a puppy this year.”) and Calder in how sardonic, slippery and self-conscious it can be. 

And his prose is always clear-cut, but it sings with how accessible and seamless it feels to read. It’s beautiful in a sharp way, most sentences are meant to cut you with a feeling and they hit their marks generally. That’s the thing about Abercrombie’s works: they’re infinitely quotable, almost every line hilarious, poignant, brutal or darkly funny. 

3. THE CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE ABERCROMBIE EXCELS HERE.

First off, I love Beck. He’s a kid who goes through a well-treaded “war is hell” arc, but it works here because 1. he wasn’t a total innocent, he was an asshole at the start and that’s okay, Abercrombie doesn’t gloss over teenage entitlement, 2. the way he finds out about how hellish war can be is rather shocking in a genre sense, 3. The First Law is all about people trying to escape the cycle of violence and failing and only getting out through death or getting out before your wrists are drenched in blood. Beck’s fate at the end is downright refreshing as a result.

Also, Gorst. Gorst is one fascinating onion from outer layer to the deepest depths of himself. You get all this noted politeness from the giant he is, his constant scathing, contemptuous inner monologue, snarking at everyone’s blaring incompetence, some truly messed-up impulses from his psyche and some really savage swordplay from a “gentle giant” of a man. Gorst is layered and the narrative pay-off for his arc at the end is truly Abercrombiesque.

Finree. Okay, this woman is awesome. Flawed and she constantly blurs the lines of decency and self-interest, love and ambition, gritted politeness and sharp bluntness, but she is awesome and she’s a fascinatingly different perspective on war, both from her relations with her commander father and husband and her own cunning. When you stare down and snipe at both Bayaz and Black Dow, wiping the smirk off Bayaz’s face, you win. You just win to me.

Craw was a cool old guy and I love how Abercrombie doesn’t really tear down the “honor gets you dead” idea that more nihilistic, darker fantasies (including his own!) here. Craw being a “Straight Edge” is actually what gains him social cache and nets him approval from others. People trust him not to stab them in the back and, for the most part, Craw’s not really punished for that so much as his sense of ethics doing it for him. Plus, it’s really fascinating to get a peek into Black Dow’s psyche through Craw’s eyes.

(Also, holy crap, Shivers. You’re scary. You’re so very scary, you’re more ruthless and nihilistic Sandor and my heart kind of hurts for you, but you’re frightening as hell.)

But yeah, I just want to talk about Prince Calder because so many emotions over this scheming bastard. His first chapter already endeared me to his characterization, being an ambitious, scheming, quippy fallen prince who has a heart of silver (bronze more like) towards his wife, his growing insecurities over his place in this warrior society gave me room to empathize with and even his blunt, direct scheming was charming in a win-less way. And his ruthlessness with strangers was par for the course of Abercrombie protagonists.

Then Scale’s initial fate on the battlefield and Calder’s reaction to it. 

Calder only grew more awesome from there when he finally decided to start walking the talk and apply himself into showing the kind of leader he could be. From the military actions he takes, to the funny stuff he commits to, to being snarky under pressure, I grew more and more respect for him not being all talk while acknowledging he’s done some ugly stuff in the past and will continue to do so in the future.

And then his interactions with Black Dow and Bayaz at the end. My brain cheered at the former and it melted at the latter. That meeting was legendary. And then his last chapter. Calder is playing a ballsy as all hell game in the North. It’s just… Calder’s got layers and probably the best character arc in The Heroes.

So yeah, The Heroes, I will always gush unabashedly. Great characters, tight pacing, wonderful themes, smooth prose, witty quotes, hilarious remarks, what’s not to love?

That being said, Red Country has really growing on me a lot in the past year ever since I got more into the Western genre and the writing style in my university courses. It might be Abercrombie’s warmest of his first six novels where not all characters are strictly bastards or monsters, some just being normal people whose only crime is being stuck in a moral rut and not being strong enough to break out of it yet or dark people genuinely trying to reach for better. Same world, but different cast of characters, a relatively moral one.

In that sense, I really appreciate Red Country as Abercrombie deconstructing himself. Temple and Shy are two normal people caught in the muck of darker people and made witnesses to even blacker deeds. It’s genuinely jarring when I read Cosca, one of my favorite anti-heroes, become a dark, dark man since last time, his humor intertwined with horror and atrocity he perpetuates onto more innocents now. And Lamb… let’s just say I got the chills reading Lamb and my reactions to them were Temple and Shy’s reactions to them.

And yet, it’s not entirely pitch-black. The same cutting humor is still there, but there’s a gentle wistfulness in this work barely there in The Heroes. There are some people who regret their black deeds of the past and some who want to rise above the mud again… and some even succeed, believe it or not. For the most overt time, Abercrombie allows some characters to change for the better. After a shitton of skulls, but it’s par for the course of Abercrombie. 

@racefortheironthrone​ also, I’m curious. I’ve seen that you’ve read Abercrombie and commented on the world-building of The First Law but what’s your take on the sequel standalones as stories of themselves?

As for other favorites… Wolf Hall (very well-written historical fiction), The Goblin Emperor (not a book for cynics), The Lies of Locke Lamora (reread 3-4 times, such a beautiful jewel of prose) and the entirety of The Dagger and the Coin quintet (seriously, read it for Geder Palliako and Clara Kalliam, such rich characters that deconstruct well-worn tropes).

[zellbellart]

Dark Matter

(Massive warning in advance for a character attempting to rape someone and for blood/gore. I don't usually write this sort of thing so don't panic if this isn't your sort of thing. I was having a REALLY bad night of PTSD so I had to get this out of my head and into words. If you can't read these sort of things, don't feel bad for skipping this one. Also, hella long post. I'm sorry.) 

 It was typical. 

Enough to make him snort every time anyone walked by. 

 Ishgardians, mostly Elezen, walked arm in arm down the streets of the Jeweled Crozier. Women in their church best giggled as men complimented them, batting eyelashes as they were showered in whatever material goods their hearts desired. One couple in particular captured the attention of the blonde Seeker that watched out of sight high above them in the rafters of a building’s newly erected frame. 

A male Elezen had his arm crooked around the waist of a female Hyur, a Midlander. Her must smaller stature made it easy for the man to coerce her into a back alley where they began a rather provocative display. His fingers played at the corseted straps behind her back while his other hand strategically snaked beneath her petticoat. Part of it hiked enough that Nyx caught a glimpse of her milky white thigh. A series of small giggles disappeared when the man's mouth hungrily pressed against her own. It wasn't until a few moments later that the ministrations of his dancing fingers reached the Miqo’te’s ears followed by several hitched gasps from the woman that went slack against the stone wall behind her. Nyx looked away for a while, his ears easily picking up the sounds of a female being pleasured without even needing to focus. It was when the sounds changed completely did his amber eyes flick back onto the frantic couple below. 

 “No, no… I don't want to go any further than that… I thought we were just going to…” The Elezen’s expression, Nyx noted, had changed entirely from horny to irritated. A once proud visage now curled near the bridge of his nose and his stance had shifted so that he loomed easily over the smaller woman, “You bitch… I bought you a new dress to play in. I do plan to take it off of you. Whether that's intact or in slivers is dependent on how easy you make this…”.

 She tried to take a step away from him and met the resistance of the cobbled wall, cold and slimy from the day’s drizzle. A small gasp escaped her lips and she ducked down, attempting to surpass his arm and run towards the Crozier. The sound of ripping fabric echoed the alleyway for a brief moment as the man caught the bottom hem of her petticoat, followed by a sloshing as she fell to her knees in the puddled sludge beneath her now half-naked form. 

 Nyx inhaled sharply and quietly rose to his feet, steadying himself with a beam of wood. Narrowed eyes gave him a keen insight on the escalation hundreds of feet below, “Fer feck’s sake…”. The Miqo’te pinched at the bridge of his nose and began a slow, Deathly silent descent as he kept his eyes on the forms he neared to. The man had positioned himself above her, fingers now woven into her hair as he pulled her closer to the junction of his thighs. 

Even in the few seconds that Nyx had chanced to look away, the disgusting creature of an Elezen had pulled himself from his trousers and trailed an engorged purple appendage across the wide-eyed face of the Midlander. The look was not lost on the Seeker… she thought her time was up. 

 The Elezen had plucked her from the ground roughly, one hand wrapped around her wrist as he tugged her to standing. Her small frame was pulled to him in a fashion that caused her breath to escape her again, this time followed by quiet, submissive sobs. He'd begun to position himself, placing the throbbing length he'd so teased her with just between her legs… 

 Ping! Ping! BAM! 

 The alleyway became a deafening place to be as the sound of metal on metal ricocheted above and around everyone. Even the woman's screams were drowned out as she found herself on her knees again, back hunched over as she tried her best to cover her ears. Above her, the Elezen stood strangely still. When she finally chanced a look, a stream of crimson had covered what was left of his face. When she noticed that half of his skull was missing, she screamed again and shuffled backwards until she came into contact with a solid form. 

 “Bitty… ye want t’wear this…an’quick…”, she asked no questions, didn't even turn to look at him, as a leather jacket was dropped in her lap. Quickly, she placed it around her shoulders, grateful that it was big enough to cover her lower regions, and got to her feet. She rushed past the man with the thigh lilt, only catching a glimpse of blonde ears flattened against equally blonde hair, a tail swishing behind him like an angry coeurl. 

 Taking shelter behind a large crate near the entrance to the Crozier’s delivery alley, she watched as she shivered in the man’s jacket…Tobacco…? The Miqo’te took a wide stance with a gun that appeared to be of some Garlean technology. Little implements on it glowed a brilliant blue and something about it seemed different from the muskets and pistols native to Ishgard. 

Just as he'd reloaded it, pulling back a piece that clicked into place, the woman noticed several figures forming further down the darkened alley. A rather bulky looking Duskwight and a curvy, yet dangerous looking female Elezen stepped closer with little reserve. The female flicked a handful of delicately curled, ebon locks from her shoulder before her crimson lips parted with a sneer, “Observant I see… How did you know?”. Nyx’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his gun just slightly, however, a smirk appeared in the corners of his lips, “Ye knoo, when he try an’ traffic on Valentione’s Day… I’s jus’ cliché”. 

He lifted the gun again, the time aiming right for the woman’s forehead. The male with her wasted no time stepping in front of her, hand poised over a rapier. “Are ye jestin’? A sword a’ a gunfight?” The Elezen simply grinned a confident, antagonistic smile, his massive shoulders rolling as he watched Nyx. Red, as Nyx had mentally coined her, pushed the man aside before shoving another mass of curls from her collarbone, “He's not afraid of your little toy, though, if I had me around, I wouldn't be either…”. 

Her voice dripped with both seduction and pure assuredness of her own skill. Why hadn't he noticed it before… the way her perfectly manicured nails tapped at a small crystal-topped wand that rested at her cocked hip. “Thamauturge…” “Ah yes! Good! Again, very observant…” She bit her bottom lip as her brilliant emerald eyes are Nyx alive. Her partner seemed irked by this but turned his attention the Seeker after a time. Something about her gaze seemed divided and Nyx continued to watch her closely while moving his large frame into the center of the alley to draw attention away from the woman that he knew refused to run far enough away. Red knew it too… 

 Just as he was about to move backwards towards her, something zipped past his head and the smell of singed hair and flesh followed. The pain hit him after a few seconds and his hand instinctively rushed to his cheek. Behind him, the crate that the woman had sought shelter behind splintered into a million pieces and she was knocked backwards against the rising steps to the Crozier. Red had darted past at an inhuman speed and Nyx’s form was shadowed by something looming up on him quickly. He reacted in just enough time to have his entire body slammed against the brick of the alley. Above him, in a similar fashion to the scene from earlier, the Duskwight pinned his threat with a well-placed forearm. Nyx’s firearm had slid from his grasp in the chaos and now rested in a pool of both blood and soiled water. 

The Elezen’s face contorted with a glee that didn't quite fit the situation but Nyx knew that expression well: blood lust. He drew his rapier and slid its length along the Seeker’s throat. Luckily for him, the Elezen seemed to be thoroughly confused when the sword didn't pierce flesh and jugular. Nyx's brows furrowed at the revelation and used the man's stupor as an opportunity to use the grip on his failing windpipe to lift himself and kick him away with strong legs. Nyx fell flat against the cobblestones and temporarily knocked the wind from himself. While he gasped for air, he crept towards his gun, one hand outstretched. 

Just as his fingers curled around its barrel, a boot landed with a sickening crunch atop his hand. He groaned loudly as the Duskwight’s laughter rose on the brisk air. There was a flash of light just as the Miqo’te contorted so that his fingers weren't crushed beneath heavy boots and the rapier sank between the cobblestones. 

 Behind them, Red had begun a slow, maniacal traipse towards the dazed woman. The little wand that had been stowed away now rested, brandished, in her hand, pointed towards her prey. The woman tried her best to crawl backwards, but the distance placed between them shrank faster than any gains she made. There was only a small window of opportunity…this was it.

 Everything happened so fast that even Nyx had a hard time comprehending. He squeezed the gun that had been smashed into his hand, felt that there was an odd malleable quality to it when it felt his touch. A few simple movements… “Yes! Saving Grace activate…!”. 

His voice commanded attention, which somehow worked in his favor. The gun oozed into a liquid, black mess. It took on a life of its own as it snaked down Nyx’s arm and consumed every bit of flesh until it stopped at his shoulder and began to extend into something that stiffened into a lengthy, black lance. At its tip, a series of long, tooth-like protrusions gave it the appearance of a draconic tail with barbed points. Once formed, the pieces that had crept up his shoulder slivered over his neck, jaw, and finally his entire face. The only parts of his upper half that didn't glisten with a blue-black sheen were the wild man's of blonde hair and the pricks of his ears.

 And then the massacre came… 

The Elezen above him didn't even stop laughing until his severed halfs hit the ground not too far from the other dismantled man. Nyx’s speed had taken on a monstrous quality to it as he rushed towards Red, the lance jutting to the side long enough to clean the fresh blood from its surface. She'd had enough time to prepare herself as she whispered a few words of power in a tongue foreign to Nyx. Several jets of pure flame zipped towards him as she braced herself for his onslaught. He felt the searing heat as it streaked past his shoulder, but the substance covering his flesh allowed him to withstand the pain. Another spell sliced through the air, headed for his face, and he winced beneath the façade that hid a burning amber glare. 

 He'd been mostly silent, something that was foreign to the Seeker. The usual taunts and jabs that came with his fighting style were absent and his focus was obvious. Red took another step back, her stiletto heels clicking against the stones upon which her body would lie… and the lance struck home silently.

 She stared up at Nyx’s blank, hidden face and an eerie smile tugged at the bloody corners. Without so much as a groan or a sign of dying, struggling pain, she straightened herself and pushed herself further onto the ebon lance until her face was inches from Nyx’s jaw. “I've no idea what you've done to yourself… frankly I don't care… but it will be your downfall…your end. Cherish it…it's beautiful…” The spirit lifted from her eyes with her last word and she deflated against the weapon. Nyx stared at her for a long moment until finally her body collapsed to the ground as the lance disintegrated back into its usual form, retreating from his body entirely. 

The woman he had so fervently defended had approached him from behind, snapping him from his thoughts. “Are…you ok?” 

 Her glazed eyes watched him closely as she offered his jacket back to him. At some point, she'd managed to find the torn petticoat and wrapped it around herself. He nodded without looking at her. She reached out and touched his bare shoulder and he jarred. “Lass, can ye tell meh… what I did?” 

 She seemed puzzled and her fair face tilted a degree, “You don't remember? You stabbed them all after you shot that one guy dead… You saved me.” Amber eyes furrowed and he holstered the gun at his right hip. Surely he'd heard her incorrectly. 

All he remembered was descending from the scaffolding and attempting to shoot the scoundrels in the leg… “Seven Hells…” He turned suddenly and looked down at the Midlander, a deadly serious expression in his face. She backed away the slightest bit for more than obvious reasons, “Dunnae tell a soul wha’ ye saw… when they find the bodies, dunnae volunteer information…they’ll nae figure oot wha’killed ‘em… an’ lastly, dunnae look fer me, ye dunnae owe me shite…”. 

 Nyx pressed past her, clenching and unclenching his left arms as if something were crawling on his flesh. He now had an urgent meeting to attend with Rook…

[hermanwatts]

Sensor Sweep: Derleth, Elemental Evil, Tarzan, Weird Tales

Cthulhu Mythos (Innsmouth Free Press): August Derleth has been the whipping boy for HPL fans since 1939, when he created Arkham House with Donald Wandrei, a publishing concern specifically created to get the works of H.P. Lovecraft into hardcovers. Like many Mythos fans, I have read the “posthumous collaborations” and find them middling-to-dull. What I had not known at the time I read them was that August Derleth had written them largely as promotional devices for the Arkham House books, appearing in Weird Tales and other publications where HPL fans would be.

Gaming (Kairos): The gamer scene has been in an uproar over a story that broke over the weekend concerning The Last of Us II. For those who aren’t familiar, it’s the sequel to a game that gained some popularity during last decade’s zombie fad. Rumors had been swirling for years on 4chan that the Death Cultists in charge of the game studio would poz up the sequel. Newly substantiated leaks suggest that the Cultists have outdone themselves.

D&D (Goodman Games): Announcing Original Adventures Reincarnated #6: The Temple of Elemental Evil! This exciting release reprints the original material from the published module T1-4: The Temple of Elemental Evil, as well as the original version of T1: The Village of Hommlet. Created by Gary Gygax and Frank Mentzer, The Temple of Elemental Evil has long been regarded as one of the greatest adventures in TSR’s publishing history. And we are proud to bring this module to a new audience.

Tolkien (Notion Club Papers): In Paul Kocher’s Master of Middle Earth (the first first-rate work of literary criticism that Tolkien attracted) there is a superb chapter that discusses the inter-relationship between individual choices and the working of divine providence. It is indeed a recurrent theme throughout the story. It is clear that the individual protagonists have real decisions to make, and that these decisions are genuinely free and not pre-determined; equally it is clear that there is a divine will at work shaping events in the direction of Good.

Lovecraft and Tolkien (Tentaculii): At the end of the The Lovecraft Geek podcast Price reveals he has a new book of short stories available, Horrors and Heresies, in which horror meets various aspects of religion. Price is, of course, an expert on the Bible as well as on Lovecraft and sword-and-sorcery, so a joining of the three should be especially succulent. If you want to know more of the anthology, the podcast The Free Thought Prophet #195 recently brought him onto the show to discuss the new collection.

Fiction (Telegraph India): One can rule out the possibility of the descendants of Rudyard Kipling, Arthur Conan Doyle and Mary Kingsley — the three subjects of Sarah LeFanu’s book — of being slighted by what the author digs up about their illustrious ancestors in this ambitious but compelling biographical work. There is as much joy in it for readers as there are lessons for writers. One of the striking attributes of this work, as it traces the long and, in Kingsley’s case in particular, arduous journeys undertaken by the two men and one woman to fame and, eventually, to South Africa, is the intelligent building of the narrative’s edifice.

Weird Tales (DMR Books): A Million Years in the Future by Thomas P. Kelley, which was serialized in Weird Tales in 1940, falls in this category. The title is extraordinarily precise: the novel takes place in the year 1,001,940. Over the past five hundred millennia Earth has been repeatedly ravaged by invaders from other galaxies, the most vicious of which are the Black Raiders from the distant planet Capara. As a result of these assaults, Earth has descended into a state of savagery.

Fiction (David J. West): Between March 29th and April 22nd, I released 4 books – count them 4 books. In my #SAVANT series of weird western/gaslamp fantasy Memento Mori, with Porter Rockwell and Elizabeth Dee (John Dee’s descendant and heir to his magical legacy). I got the rights back to my first novel Heroes of the Fallen so I have rereleased it with a new cover, slight edits and a big old glossary in the back that I always wanted included.

Weird Tales (Black Gate): I’ve wanted to do for awhile now, a detailed look at a single issue of Weird Tales magazine where I do a short analysis of each story, the famous, the infamous, and the forgotten. Just to make things a little confusing, I rate these stories, unlike movies, on a 1-5 scale, with the lower the number, the better the story. You can look at these ratings as A-B-C-D-F, or Excellent – Good – Mediocre – Below Average – Poor.

Edgar Rice Burroughs (DMR Books): One hundred years ago today, Tarzan the Untamed was published in hardcovers for the first time. This was a very important book in the evolution of the Tarzan series and an exciting, classic novel in its own right. I’ll let the ERB fans at The Oparian Vault give you the gory details of the publishing history: “Tarzan the Untamed is the seventh book in the Tarzan series written by Edgar Rice Burroughs. It was originally published as two separate stories serialized in different pulp magazines.

Fiction (Broadswords & Blasters): et’s get something out of the way, The Chronicles of Amber by Roger Zelazy isn’t pulp per se. For starters, the first novel in the series, “NINE PRINCES IN AMBER” wasn’t published until 1970, putting it more in line with the New Wave movement coming out of the sixties. That said, critics have drawn comparisons to the 1946 novella written by Henry Kutter (with perhaps some help from his wife, C.L. Moore) called the THE DARK WORLD, giving it at the very least a line back to the pulps.

Comic Books (CBR): A meta-message is where a comic book creator comments on/references the work of another comic book/comic book creator (or sometimes even themselves) in their comic. Each time around, I’ll give you the context behind one such “meta-message.”  Today, based on a suggestion from reader Rob H., we look at the OTHER Colonel Future tribute to Edmond Hamilton!

Fiction (Paperback Warrior): Hardboiled crime novels reached a new height of popularity in the late 1940s. Many scholars and fans point to Mickey Spillane as a catalyst for this pop-culture phenomenon. His debut novel, I, the Jury, was published in 1947 and became an instant runaway bestseller. The book introduced the world to the iconic Mike Hammer, a fictional private-investigator who pursues bad guys mostly in New York City. Hammer is known for his physical rough ‘n tumble, unorthodox style gained from his U.S. Army experience in WWII.

Fiction (Real Book Spy): The Top 10 Most Lethal Characters in the Thriller Genre Right Now. Who is the most lethal character in the thriller genre right now? Each year, we set out to answer that question, creating a new list based only on the books from that year. So, no playing favorites or taking into account past action from previous books. If a character stopped a nuclear attack and smoked fifty bad guys in the process last year, but turned in a less impressive performance this time around, none of what happened before 2019 matters.

Fiction (Dark Worlds Quarterly): Bram Stoker (1847-1912) won a place in literary history with one book, Dracula (1897).  It was not his only novel, but it is his only masterpiece in the long form.  The novels that followed range from passable (The Jewel of The Seven Stars, 1903) to down-right bizarre (The Lair of the White Worm, 1911).  Stoker’s earlier works are best not discussed. Stoker may have had only one great novel in him, but he did produce a small number of short stories that might have won him a reputation without Dracula.  Most of these stories were collected in his posthumous collection Dracula’s Guest And Other Weird Stories (1914).

D&D (Trollsmyth): Yesterday, my wife and I were talking about choice in D&D, and that lead to a chat about dungeons. Apparently, she’d never experienced the classic dungeons. Her experiences with early D&D were largely of the cloaked-guy-in-the-tavern-sends-you-into-the-dungeon-to-retrieve-a-Maguffin-and-you-get-to-keep-everything-else-you-find sort. And where the monsters just waited patiently in their rooms for the PCs to kick in the door. That sort of thing.

Sensor Sweep: Derleth, Elemental Evil, Tarzan, Weird Tales published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[nemesisbinxartifactseries]

Artifact Series T

T. B. Beet's Bullet

T.E. Lawrence's Motorcycle

T.E. Lawrence's Thawb Robe

T.S. Eliot's Food Bowl

TableTop Fiasco Dice

Tacky Taste Inducing Plastic Flamingo

Tactical Soccer Ball *

Taharqa's Figures

Tails Doll

Tai Situ Changchub Gyaltsen‘s Hand Prayer Wheel

Takeda Shingen’s War Fan

Tallulah Bankhead's Bentley

Talos

Taman Shud Note

Tamaya Fireworks from the 1843 Sumidagawa Festival

Tamerlane’s Tomb

Tamsin Blight's Cauldron

Tanaka Tadayoshi's Iron Snake

Tanaka Hisashige’s Karakuri Puppets

Tantalus' Manacles

Tanto Blade Set *

Taoist Monk Gunpowder

Taranis' Wheel

TARDIS Stage Prop

Tarnhelm

Tarrare's Wooden Box

Taxidermied Cow

Tay Zonday's Microphone

Taylor Swift's Banjo

Tea Box from the Boston Tea Party

Teamaster's Teapot

Teapot Containing an Actual Tempest

Teapot of Kuraokami

Techno Viking's Watter Bottle

Ted Bundy's Bracelet

Ted Kaczynski's Typewriter

Ted Kennedy's Turn Signal *

Ted Longshaw's AA Batteries

Ted Serios' Polaroid Camera

Ted Williams' Cardboard Sign

Telegraph from Oman *

Teleporting Pencil Sharpener *

Teleporting Rabbit Tail

Teles’ Lyre

Temperature Sensitive Silver Sugar Tongs

Temporal Pocket Watch

Teresa of Avila's Bottle of Holy Water

Teresa of Avila's Cross Necklace

Teressa Bellissimo's Platter

Terri-Jean Bedford's Leather Bondage Straps

Terry Fox's Marathon T-shirt

Terry Pratchett's Trunk

Terror Mask

Tex Avery's Glasses

TF2 Artifacts

Thaddeus Cahill's Teleharmonium Keyboard *

Thaddeus S.C. Lowe’s Enterprise

Thai Ngoc's Pillow

Thales of Miletus' Amber

Thales' Chalice

The Blonde's '56 White T-bird

The Breeder's Informational Book of Living Examples

The Exorcist Final Edit

The Flowergirls

The Great Gama's Silver Mace

The Great Omani's Handcuffs

The Hands Resist Him

The Haunting of Hill House

The Old Man and the Sea

The Red Baron's Triplane

"The Rose" from Notre-Dame de Reims

The Scarlet Pimpernel

The Thing Transmitter

The Three Stooges' Tuxedos

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Themistocles' Ostracon

Theodore Gericault's The Raft of the Medusa

Theodore H. Maiman's Safety Visor

Theodore Roosevelt's Bullet

Theodore Roosevelt's Hunting Rifle

Theodore Roosevelt's Glasses

Theodore Roosevelt's Teddy Bear *

Theodor Seuss Geisel's Typewriter Keys

Theodor Seuss Geisel's Grinch Santa Hat

Theodor Seuss Geisel's Reindeer Antlers

Theodosius I's Second Obelisk

Thelonious Monk's Hatstand

Theophilus of Adana's Contract Seal

Theodosius of Bathynia's Sundial (canon)

Theophilus Carter's Alarm Clock

Thespis' Robes

Thetis' Necklace

Thich Quang Duc's Candle

Thomas Allbutt's Thermometer

Thomas Anstey Guthrie's Stone

Thomas Blood’s Mallet

Thomas Busby's Stoop Chair

Thomas Byle's Altar Stone

Thomas Cole's "The Course of An Empire"

Thomas Cole’s “The Titan’s Goblet”

Thomas Crapper's Handbell

Thomas Edison's Bioelectric Stagecoach *

Thomas Edison's Wax Cylinder *

Thomas Hitchcock, Sr.'s Crop

Thomas Jeckyll's Tool Rests

Thomas Jefferson’s Lap Desk

Thomas Jefferson's Quill

Thomas Jefferson's Wheel Cipher

Thomas Jefferson's Wig

Thomas Jeffries' Boomerang*

Thomas J. Maloney's Gavel

Thomas Kyd's Quill

Thomas Midgley, Jr.’s Gas Pump

Thomas More's Pendant

Thomas Nast's Art Kit

Thomas Nast's Wood Engraving, Caught

Thomas Noguchi's Badge

Thomas Oliphant's Stocking

Thomas Seddon's Palette

Thomas Stevens’ Penny-Farthing

Thomas Tate Tobin’s Sack

Thomas Townsend Brown's Gravitator

Thomas Wedgewood's Champagne Glass *

Thor's Belt

Thor's Gauntlets

Thor's Hammer *

Thought Recording Phonograph

The Three Golden Devil Hairs

Three Witches' Cauldrons from Macbeth

Threshold of Limentinus *

Thunderstone Axe

Thuringia Healing Blade

Tiberius' Goblet

Tibetian Chimes

Tide Jewels

Tigers Eye Crystal

Tiglath-Pileser III’s Chariot

Tiles from the Orleans Parish Women's Prison

Tilly Smith’s Towel

The Tinkers' Black Armbands

Tim Berners-Lee NeXT Computer

Tim Horton's Coffee Cup Tray

Time-Slowing Toaster

Times Square News Ticker *

Timo Pitkämö's Sparkler

Timoclea's Diadem

Timon of Athens's Toga

Timothy Dexter’s Coal

Timothy Leary's Reading Glasses *

Timothy McVeigh's T-Shirt

Tin Pan from the Klondike Gold Rush

Tin Pan from Tin Pan Alley *

Tin Toy Cars

The Tip of Mt.McKinley

Tipu's Tiger

Tirumalai Krishnamacharya Japa Mala

Tithonus' Lyre

Tito Puente's Original Studio Master of "Oye Como Va" *

Titus Andronicus's Gladius

Titus Salt's Ottoman

Titus' Quadriga

Tobias Bamberg’s Ball

Todd McFarlane's Pen

Tod Sloan's Boots

Toga from 'Animal House'

Toilet Paper Roll

Tollund Man Rope

Tomahawk Reflex Hammer *

Tomas de Torquemada's Chain *

Tom Emanski’s Video Tapes

Tom Higgins' Pie Tin

Tom Ketchum's Hat

Tom Lehrer's Piano

Tom Selleck's Mustache Comb

Tom Smith's Badge

Tomas de Torquemada's Torch *

Tomb of Genghis Khan

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Tommy Cooper's Fez

Tommy Johnson's Guitar

Tommy Wiseau's Spoon

Tony Hawk's Kneepads

Tony Montana's M16A2

Tony Sarg's Felix the Cat Balloon

Topsy the Elephant's Chain

Torch of Thanatos *

Torii from Nagasaki

Torso from the Statue of Anthony the Great

Tortoiseshell Comb from Ashtead Villa

Toxic Red Rose *

Toy Box from "Children of The Corn"

Toy Kitchen

Toyotomi Hideyoshi's Sandals

Trading Cards of the 2008 Detroit Lions Team

Trail of Tears Quilt

Trail of Tears Turquoise Ring

Training Flight 22 *

Train Throttle from the Great Hinckley Fire

Transversal Hotel Key

"Transylvanian's" Glam Rock Costumes from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Trayvon Martin's Hoodie

Tree from the Rockefeller Center

Tree of Idun

Trent Kimball’s Windshield

Trevilian of Lyonesse's Horse Saddle

Trim Tab of The Voodoo Chile

Tripping Shoelace

Trismegistos' Emerald Tablets

The Trojan Horse *

The Troll Glass

Tropical Paradise 'Almond Joy'

Trowel from the Great Wall

Trunk from Bramshill House

Tsunokuma Sekiso's Gunbai

Tsutomu Yamaguchi's Stamp

Tūmatauenga’s Patu

Túpac Amaru’s Quipu

Tupac Shakur's Gold Necklace

Turret from the Great Wall of China

Turtle Doves Christmas Ornament

Tutankhamen's Ankh

Tuxedo Mask's Rose

Twelfth Night Yellow Stockings and Cross Garters

Twelve Days of Christmas Pear Tree

Twin Chairs from "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?"

Twisted Plant Stand of Revenge*

Twister

Tycho Brahe's Prosthetic Noses *

Tyler Gressle's Yu-Gi-Oh Card

Tyndale's Infinite Lathe *

The Types & Printing Press from the Type Riot of Toronto

Typhon's Scale

Tyreese's Hammer

Tyr's Right Hand