#hard wood gourds

[sheltiechicago]

Transformational Light

Erleuchten Lamps was founded in 2016 by Matthew Johnson, a fine artist based in Oregon, USA. Inspired by forms and textures found in the natural world, he uses specific materials such as hard wood gourds and maple burl to create a variety of highly-detailed lighting art.

[neon-kazoo]

Hero and Villain Go to a Pumpkin Patch

Hero gazed out into the countryside through the open top of the trailer. As Yelp had promised, there were gourds galore spread out over the many fields and rolling hills. The tractor pulling them steadily chugged along, filling the air with engine noises and a slight gas smell that had Villain plugging their ears and wrinkling their nose.

Naturally, they were both on a hay ride, on their way to a pumpkin farm, as enemies often are at the start of this season.

“Why is there so much hay!” Villain grumbled, tossing some into the air in frustration as they pulled at the pieces that were stuck to them.

Hero mercifully decided not to mention that that was the whole idea of a hay ride, instead pointing out, “You’re the one that insisted on wearing a cape to a farm.”

“For the last time, it’s a cloak,” Villain stressed, rising up slightly to attempt to shake off the pesky straw velcroing itself to their attire.

“Nice try, you don’t have a hood.”

Hero tugged Villain off their knees, lest they get in trouble for standing up

The rest of the ride included Villain unsuccessfully shifting and picking at their clothes while Hero, quite helpfully, made sure some pieces landed in the other’s hair before they departed the trailer.

After that, it was a quick bee-line to the collection of squash and pumpkins laid out on a lot of colored wood chips. Hero insisted on a picture, plopping down on a large and plump orange pumpkin to pose in front of the villain.

“I thought heroes don’t break rules?” Villain asked, smirking.

Hero defended automatically, “I’m not breaking any-”

Villain pointed to one of the clearly displayed signs reading “no sitting on pumpkins” in large red print.

“Oh.”

Villain snapped a picture just in time to capture the pumpkin collapsing into a heap of seeds and chunks beneath Hero.

…

“I still can’t believe that pumpkin cost 300 dollars.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to find out if you didn’t destroy it.”

Hero’s mouth formed a line as they pointedly looked away from the all-too amused criminal.

“Your face was priceless by the way,” they continued, much to the chagrin of their enemy.

Hero cut a glare that would make any villain proud.

“There’s a place for a better photo,” Villain consoled, pointing towards a board with the painted bodies of a farmer family, immediately regretting it when they clocked the expression on the Hero’s face.

After handing their camera off to a random patron, Hero and Villain found themselves at the back of the board. Hero immediately headed for the tallest hole, rising up onto their tiptoes to be seen from the front. When they realized Villain wasn’t stepping forward, they directed them to the lowest hole.

“That one will work,” they gestured, before returning to face the camera.

Reluctantly, Villain kneeled down in place for the photo.

When they got it back, Hero’s smiling face was plastered on that of a flannel-clad man with a pitchfork, holding his faceless family close in a field of hard-earned pumpkins. And Villain, with their face filling the hole of the dog at the bottom.

Relentlessly, Hero skipped towards a building with a line winding around to a small serving window.

Following, Villain scanned the sign and gaped.

Hero turned to them, eyes sparkling as they requested, “I’d like an apple cider, please!”

“I am not paying 30 dollars for inferior apple juice.”

Villain crossed their arms.

“It’s not juice, it’s cider. Come on, have some fall spirit.”

Villain did not have any fall spirit, however they did now have a lighter wallet, a happier hero, and a hot chocolate for themselves.

They sipped slowly, watching steam curl and unfurl into the air above their novelty mug.

“I can’t understand why you like this season so much. It’s far too cold.”

“It’s all in the leaves, Villain,” Hero replied.

“The leaves. They’re…crunchy.”

“They’re beautiful.”

Hero tilted their head back, gazing up at the red, orange, yellow, and brown canopy. Villain followed their lead, watching the light stream through the gaps of the balding branches with the slightest sense of wonder. The wind picked up, and it was like the trees were sparkling. Rich colors rained down as the gust blew through.

Totally not beautiful at all.

The nemeses next found themselves at a table with a medium size pumpkin sitting in front of each of them. They had both been entrusted with a small array of carving tools, which they made quick use of cutting into the vegetable and scooping out seeds and guts.

Sufficiently covered in the remains of mutilated gourds, Hero glanced over from where they were carefully scraping at their logo carved into the side of their designated pumpkin. Their mouth fell open in horror at their enemy’s work.

Safe to say, Hero earned a blue ribbon, and Villain earned a lifetime ban from the carving contest.

The criminal and the crime fighter soon took to wandering the perimeter of the farm, following the fencing in front of the surrounding deciduous trees.

The wind blew and Villain rubbed at their arms and pulled their cape tighter around themselves.

“It’s too cold to be outside,” they complained, causing Hero’s head to whip towards them.

“Since when are you such a wimp? If you’re cold, just say so,” Hero challenged.

“Ok, I’m cold.”

“I have just the thing,” Hero replied cheerfully, reaching into their concerningly-large pocket and pulling out some knitted material.

“What…are those.”

“Mittens.”

“No. That,” Villain pointed to the woolen blob on top with an accusatory finger, “is an abomination.”

“It’s. A. Mitten.”

Hero spread out the knitted hand-warmers before them. Villain thought they were more likely to be mistaken for a failed crochet project.

“…why are there only three.”

A grin spread cheesily across the Hero’s face, a glint of mischief in their eyes.

“Couple gloves!”

Slow, painful realization overcame the Villain.

“No. Absolutely not. I am not holding your hand.”

“I thought you said you were cold?” Hero tilted their head, asking with seriousness, “Would you rather have your fingers fall off?”

That, in Villain’s opinion, was a gross exaggeration of the current temperature of their hands.

They did, however, relent when they realized how terrible it was to have an imbalance between their hands, one wrapped in wool and the other exposed to the cutting wind. Better to look dumb then waste a valuable asset like the feeling in their fingers, Villain rationalized.

Hero let them keep pretending that was the real reason their fingers stayed intertwined until it was time to go home.

———

A lot of these ideas are included in @thepenultimateword ’s Flufftober challenge. I started writing this before the challenge was posted, but it deserves some recognition, go check it out!

[ottosinventory]

Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbos brother!reader

You and your brother Bilbo were enjoying a nice dinner when you heard a knock at the door.

"...Did you invite someone?" Aske your brother

"Not that I know of?" You responded unsure. You stood up to open the door (after a short argument on who is going to get it, you lost).

"Dwalin to your service" said a quite rough looking Dwarf standing on your doorstep. He bowed than stepped in, you were quite shocked and forgot to reply

"...Ohmm I mean Y/N Baggings to yours?"

And that was just the start of the night, they started arriving one after the other.

While you were quite amused, they were fun company in your opinion. Your brother didn't agree as much. He got more and more upset the more Dwarfes came.

Gandalf arrived with them and while your brother was busy trying to get an answers from him you were singing along with your guests who were throwing plates around; so basically you were having the time of your life.

Its not that you didn't like the calmness that was in Hobbiton but sometimes...just sometimes you really wanted to go exploring, you wanted to go out on adventures to have some excitement in your life. Thats why you had a secret practice range in the woods behind your house. When you were small your parents got you a bow and an arrow and since then, you loved it. As you got older you perfected the art of archery and got better and better.

When the song ended there was one, slow knock on your door.

"He is here" muttered Gandalf quietly

Since you were closest you went to open the door.

When you opened the door your jaw almost dropped, on the other side stood the most handsome man you have ever seen.

He looked at you and bowed his head.

Your words were stuck in your throat you were processing his godly deeds voice.

The moment would have gotten awkward if Gandalf didn't step in front of you to great the newcomer.

"Bilbo, Y/N, this is the leader of our Company Thorin Oakenshield King under the mountain." He finished with a proud smile

You looked at him and gave him a smile

"Pleasure to meet you" Throin looked at you just for a second longer then it would have been normal, he had to admit you were quite nice to look at, you hade pretty h/c hair beautiful e/c eyes, not to mention a dazzling smile.

"So, Hobbits, tell me what is your weapon of choice" he started while walking around you and your brother.

"A Bow" you answered without missing a beat

"Pardon?" Bilbo was jut confused

Thorin stopped his pacing and looked at you, surprised. He didn't expect an actual answer he had no idea Hobbits wielded weapons. But now that he looks at you better, your build is different than other Hobbits. You're lean and clearly have muscle, you looked good in the button up shirt and west you were wearing. Throin realized he might be staring for too long

"A bow?" Quirked an eyebrow Thorin

"Yes?" You asked more than stated

"You any good" interrupted one of the younger dwarfes who you got to know as Kili.

"We can go out and shoot some arrow right now?" You asked not quite cockily but there was noticeable confidence in your voice

"...But its dark out" responded Kili quite unsure

"So?" You answered back now cockily and smirking.

This took everyone off gourd even Bilbo.

"You still have that bow?" Asked your brother

"The one I got when I was 10? Yes I shoot with my pinky" you answered sarcastically and some of the dwarfes chuckled, to your astonishment, Throin was one of them.

"And you" looked Thorin at Bilbo

"Im...quite good at conkers but I fail to see how thats relevant." Answered Bilbo yet again confused.

"Thought so, he looks more like a grocer than a burglar" chuckled the dwarven king.

"Said the Kind who lost his way twice looking for a simple sign on a door." You answered back.

You were a kind person and quite hard to anger, but when someone was mean to your brother that was the fastest ticket to your rage.

Thorin looked at you and stepped closer almost chest to chest, you were just slightly shorter than him but you still had to tilt your head up just a bit.

"Y/N-" started Gandalf

"I don't care even if you are the King of the world, you do not insult my brother especially under his own roof which he was kind enough to lend to you" you said without any intentions of backing down.

"Now please seet your royal ass at my table because Im sure you had a long journey and wish to eat and drink." And with that you walked towards the kitchen.

Thorin was amazed by you. The courage, and you didn't even weaver while talking to him like that you looked up into his eyes 100% serious no fear.

After everyone settled back to the table, as promised, you came out of the kitchen with a plate of food and something to drink for Throin.

He thanked you when you put it down in front of him and looked at you walking away. But he had to concentrate back at the matter at hand.

While the discussion was going on at the table, you couldn't help looking at Thorin from time to time. He was horribly good looking and you had a hard time focusing on the explanation Gandlaf was providing for you and your brother about the journey they wanted to go one.

You snapped out of your school crush daze when you heard the word dragon. And the next thing you know your brother is fainting and you had to catch him.

After Bilbo gained his consciousness back you and Gandalf tried to convince him to go on this adventure.

"C'mon big bro this what we were playing when we were kids remember? We always went into the woods to discover" you tried to make him remember. A small smile came to his face at the memory but it vanished as soon as it came.

"Y/N, did you hear what they said? A dragon, they are going to fight a dragon I cant even fight the squirrel that has been eating my tomatoes, and if Im not going Im definitely not letting you go"

"What? Bilbo I am an adult Hobbit you know I don't have to listen to you"

"You know that mom and dad trusted me with keeping you safe and going off to fight a dragon is quite the opposite of that" argued your brother.

"Then come with me-"

"No absolutely not, this is the end of the discussion"

"But-"

"I said no, now go to bed these dwarfs are bad impressions for you" with that he stood up and left.

You stood up from the chair you were sitting in and looked into the dining room, more specifically at Thorin, who was in a conversation with Dwalin. He looked at back at you, you guys were looking at each other for a little bit when you finally looked away and walked to your bedroom. You had to get a good night sleep, after all, you are going on an adventure tomorrow, with or without your brother.

--------------------------------------------------------------

AHHHHHHHSHGDJDGDNDGDHDH

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP😫😫

THORIN IS MY ONE AND ONLY TRUE LOVE FOREVER AND EVER AND IM SO HAPPY THAT I FINALLY WROTE A FIC FOR HIM😭😭😭😭

*breathe*

Ok Im calm now, (NO IM NOT I LOVE THORIN) Im very likely going to turn this into a book🫡

ya know tell the whole story, or not I have an Oc and I really want to write a book for him yall decide which one😭 (Im gonna write the OC one anyway its more like do you guys want me to continue this one or not🫣)

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT AND IM GOING TO GET TO KNOW A LOT MORE LOTR/TH FANS CUS ITS MY LIFE🫠🫠

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[eldritch-spouse]

Me, crying in the woods because I can't identify a plant despite having 4 plant identification books, 6 native plant pamphlets, and 2 apps: BITCH WHAT ARE YOU??!!

Patches: I wish that was me

As much as he wishes he was the plant you're currently bullying into oblivion, he's handled waaaayy too much vegetation in his life and death not to know what exactly he's looking at.

More than he feels his cock stir to life in his pants, Patches is also taken by an almost instinctual, pompous desire to show off, in spite of his timidity.

So he does.

Carefully hovering footsteps over to you as you have your little wildlife meltdown, Patches softly clears his throat.

" That- That's a mayapple. "

He really didn't appreciate getting decked in the face hard enough to cave his gourd head, but then again, as a stranger, maybe he shouldn't have whispered in your ear.

[madamecerberusfanfics]

Can You Love Yet

Tom Riddle x Reader/OC

Ch.7 A Blow to the Head Master list

Defense against the dark arts, probably one of Rowan's least favorite classes. Though being great at defensive spells, with her wand (quite fittingly) being made of rowan wood, known for its skill with protection spells. However it's the offensive spell that has always given her trouble.

She could at least sigh in relief knowing that she didn't share the class with Tom. The teasing & ridicule would be endless if he saw her in a duel & sadly that's just what they were doing today. With the desks & chairs replaced with a long raised dueling platform for the students adorned with a blue & gold cloth.

Standing there trying her best to keep her nerves under control as her eyes fixated on the different duels unfolding before her. Pale eyes darting back & forth as the two students on the platform throw spells flew. Countering & blocking each other's attacks, the heated exchange only growing hotter till the Gryffindor finally landed a hit on the Slytherin. Knocking the boy landing & sliding a few feet on his back. The other Gryffindors cheered for their house mates victory, as he stood there with a cocky smile plastered on his face.

Time for the next duel & sadly- "Grimm!"- it was her turn. Freezing as soon the professor called her name, quickly she took a deep breath & regain her composure, stepped on top of the platform. Coming face to face with a different Gryffindor, a boy with dirty blonde hair & a determined look piercing right through Rowan.

As soon as the professor gave them the sign the Gryffindor wasted no time casting attacks. Fast to act Rowan stated to block one after the other. The blonde relentless in the on slot of attacks was slowly pushing the now anxious girl closer to the edge. Knowing she couldn't just block him forever she reflected his spell right back at him. Blocking it just as she expected, readying her wand to attack with his gourd down only to hesitate, like every time before.

Leaving herself wide open perfectly for him, as with one final spell hitting her. Sending Rowan flying back causing her head to hit hard against the wooden floors.

Everything was black as if she was floating in a void. Soon she could recognize the feel of a ferm mattress & sheets beneath her, then the smell of herbs entering her nostrils every time she took a breath. Steering as she tried to fight off the grogginess, finally managing to open her eyes only to be blinded by the painfully bright light. Groaning as she shut her eyes once more only for the sound of clacking footsteps to assault her ears. "Oh miss Grimm you're finally awake, here." It had been the nurse, having Rowan sit up as she handed her a small glass bottle, "here love take this." & Without much thought she took it, a bitter potion that helped relieve the pain & fogginess in her head. "Thank you madam I feel a lot better" her voice, quite & grateful to the nurse. "Let me know if you need anything else love." With that she could hear the nurse walk away as the sound of her heels got further & further. With her eyes still closed not wanting to risk the pain the bright light might cause, she laid back down.

Tom had heard about the incident & as much as her was upset with Rowan letting herself get hit & injured like that. He couldn't help but feel even more angry at the Griffindor who caused the injury in the first place.

A scowl tugging on his lips as he made his way towards the hospital wing. Footsteps, quick yet almost soundless, soon enough he stood at Rowan's bed side. Unsure whether to feel pity or anger at the state she was in. With her head wrapped with a bandage, a small frown tugging at her lips instead of her normal cheeky smile. A bizarre sight to say the least, it had been the first time he had ever seen Rowan injured & all he could feel looking down at her small body was dread.

Her eyes slowly opened just enough for her crystal clear orbs to peak through her lashes. Tom made sure the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling was hidden well enough that even with Rowan's sharp perception she couldn't tell.

"Wow I'm surprised that you came to see me, keep this up & I'll start to think you've grown attached." her voice, rough & quiet as a tired smile tugged at her lips. "Oh please Grimm the only thing I've grown attached to is not going back to that hellhole." Rolling his eyes in annoyance at her ridiculous assumption. "Oh please don't think I haven't noticed Lestrange's little crush on me, Merlin knows why," sitting up slowly careful not to irritate her still sore head. " & You're strange response to it." Scoffing & rolling his eyes even harder this time only to meet her piercing gaze. They both knew her words were true but Tom wouldn't dare confess to these strange confusing feelings.

"So how did you manage such a thing I knew you were bad when it came to defense against the dark arts but I didn't think it was this bad." Changing the subject to the actual matter at hand. Making Rowan overt her gaze as her lightly freckled cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "W-well it's not all of it that I struggle with I am quite skilled when it comes to defensive magic." Trying her best to come off as proper but of course Tom saw right through it.

"Your head injury would say otherwise." Tom, quick to retort.

"It's just the offensive spells that I have trouble with." Finally admitting, her voice soft & quiet as her eyes looked back up at him through her lashes. The proper facade finally falling off only to show puer embarrassment on her deepening red face.

This had done some with in Tom another new feeling he wasn't sure how to describe. He knew it wasn't love, any of these new confusing feelings. From what he understood love didn't feel like what he was experiencing now. Only leaving him frustrated & annoyed.

Letting out a huff, "Fine!"

Rowan now looking at him wide eyed & confused. "I'll tutor you in offensive spells if that's all you really need." In a stern tone, dark eyes meeting pale orbs filled with gratitude & a smile he seemed to never get out of his head. "Very much appreciated Tom."

[evanthenerd83]

"Cemetery Birth"

It was with a heavy heart that Mr. Smyth and Mr. Coleridge did the unthinkable.

Rumors had abounded about town. A low, hushed thing passing from one bar patron to the next handmaiden.

Nobody knew who had started the whole sordid affair. Who first claimed to have found trails near Hodge’s Hill, where good folk laid their own for that eternal rest. Thin lines dragged into soil.

These coiled. Only a certain thing could have made them. Albert Shale, gray of a man, and known for his ability to tell one scaled beasty from another, was called down by Constable Watson. A split glance told him what exactly came.

Many serpents hid amongst grass and beneath rocks. Their spawn wiggled up when these were lifted, innocently, unknowingly, by humanity’s. As intemperate as the Devil himself. Lashing out with forked tongue and fangs dripping, dripping, dripping. Most didn’t survive longer than a night.

Caskets frequently fell to invasion. Albert swung ale, breathed it, and regaled those of a certain persuasion with tales of rattles echoing from inside midnight-dark tombs. Loud enough to unsettle. A dull scraping against wood far below mourning feet. Snakes could find their way into well anywhere, if it was dark, warm, and secret. Even those reserved for the dead.

And the thought that one could’ve gotten near, let alone inside, her casket brought a stab of horror through both Smyth and Coleridge.

So hence they climbed that bulbous hill in the night. Snow alighted on their jackets and hats, the spade of Smyth’s shovel growing heavy, pregnant. Each man wished to be somewhere other than out there.

And yet.

And yet.

An intrusion upon her personage. Violation of sleep. Of the body. Though shut up about it, Coleridge remembered a dream, recurring and vivid.

It woke him with sweats and gasping, held clenched in fear’s grip.

An image of eye sockets once crystal blue, filled with light; so much light. But now, but now, only dark, so dark, and hollow; except for the brown length dropping out of that dark, that empty hole, forked tongue licking at the air.

Oh, how he screamed. And the black eyes were no longer there, those fangs no longer upon him. 

No longer in him. 

Inside.

Neither man spoke so much as a whisper.

To do so would have given shape to their grief, shared as it may’ve been, despite opposing subjects. For Smyth, it was the thought of undoing all his hard work.

Sixty years of age. Eyebrows tight together. He’d served the town ever faithfully and professionally. 

Coleridge however suffered personal grief for her. Dear poor Elizabeth, beloved wife and daughter. Fair-skinned Elizabeth. Blue-eyed Elizabeth.

The only child of a local industry haranguer whose lycanthropic claws dug ever deep.

She had fallen ill at winter’s arrival, descending into harsh fits of coughing; her lips consistently blotched with crimson, no matter how much he dabbed. And oh, he dabbed that handkerchief many times.

Leeches proved no less disastrous upon their application. Convulsions quickly followed. Each passing hour would bring a furtive glance towards her gourd-swollen belly. His thoughts parted between the fate of his wife and that of their child.

Nothing to be done about Mother Nature’s will, of course. A maid found her, pale-eyed, wide-eyed, the morning after. Doc relayed what he knew and slack-jawed Coleridge could only listen. At least she hadn’t suffered much.

Her father made all of the necessary arrangements. Carson built the coffin most expediently, using his best wooden planks. Smyth began to provide the manpower. And a day later, they would drop them, bury, leave. Mother and Fetus.

They finally came upon them. 

The gates to Hodge’s Hill were large, wrought from iron. On windy days, one could hear creaking and sputtering.

Smyth fished out his key, rusted over, then inserted it. They proceeded through. Jaws of headstones and crosses and a few mausoleums greeted the men.

But in silence. Minutes passed before they finally reached it, her grave. At the sober insistence of her father, Elizabeth had been buried near her dearly departed mother. Where this double plot was happened to be near the northern pinch of the town cemetery, below a giant tree with withering white bark, last leaves having fallen from heaven.

Memories returned. Smyth hefted his shovel, now too heavy, barely liftable. Its blade dully reflected moonlight partially obscured by clouds. Coleridge stood close. He watched as this man, hunching over on account of an aching spine, stabbed into soil, lifted its now gore-stained end, then once again plunged down.

A younger man would’ve done so quicker.

Yet such work definitely lacks the mark of experience. His bones and muscles are not trained.

He doesn’t know how deep one must pierce. Only after serving for as long as Smyth, whose preoccupation was respected by folk, regarded as valuable labor, can someone simply tell. Six feet requires hardness.

From somewhere a wolf howled. Soon more joined in. Coleridge did not know, or care, for them. All he could remember was the godforsaken terror of feeling, deep within his own heart, that some divine promise had been cut.

Perhaps his nightmare carried with it truth. Prophecy. Something was in fact inside the coffin. Spawn of Satan. The slithering form, fanged. 

Smyth dug himself into a hole, heaving assuredly.

This went on. Until Coleridge could no longer see his head from where he stood.

Dirt piled up. Clanging iron on rock grew less and less audible. The howling madness would wan, before dying altogether.

A lull in work. “Eh, Mister? Care to join meh?” He heard these and quickly went forward, mind unraveling at that thought. It would be there. When they opened her, their casket, something’d slither out from between gaping jaws or underneath the hem of her skirt or—

Fear potent as any herb or Scotch.

A knowledge that pales one’s face, chills the blood. Makes the grieving do the unthinkable.

He looked down into the now opened maw of the grave. Smyth stared up, knelt over wood nailed shut and once abandoned to worms. His boots were sufficiently dirtied.

Despite the ever gnawing cold, a sweat pin-pricked his forehead. Repetition never prevents the standard effect on human bodies. Age itself could prove rather dangerous. Hearts can tense and seize up, their beating frozen.

Quickly realizing what had just passed between them, Coleridge coughed. “Go on, do it.” 

Whatever glint presently within Smyth’s eyes flickered. But this only lasted for what might’ve been seconds on God’s clock. Then the old man smiled, nodding.

Smyth dug around the pocket of his green overcoat, retrieving a hammer.

Coleridge suddenly couldn’t breathe. He swallowed the thing responsible, leaden weight in his throat; the fear.

Simply seeing the hammer’s upturned claws made their purpose solid. To think that he’d be supervising… Ghosts of the mind had exerted such power, however vivid. Many nights brought forth phantasmagoric shades, demons and abominations that Nature shirked.

For God’s sake, he’d always suffered from these deviled spirits before. Eliza herself was always finding him in the throes of possession. Their influence could be exorcised by a strong shoulder-shaking. Why would he think last night’s edition was any different?

Coleridge scoffed at his vulnerability to such frank persuasions. The possibility of breaking away, rescinding his frenzied plea to Smyth, rose up. Just let it go and offer an apology. Blame their excursion on grief. Delusions.

And yet… 

… And yet… 

… He had to know.

Even if it meant defying life’s most immutable of laws— the finality of burial— he needed to be sure. Only seeing for himself would prove that it was a nightmare.

Coleridge said not a word. He watched as Smyth bent low over the lid, close enough so his nose grazed its wood, and positioned. One by one went the nails that guarded what lay inside.

Who was lying inside.

Smyth handed him his tool, its purpose now fulfilled. Coleridge took it in a mechanical fashion and promptly forgot.

The laborer shuffled to a different position so that he could tinker. Off came the lid, though not lifted. Instead it was slid aside slowly.

Flesh greeted them; paler now without the warmth of life. Eyes shrouded by gray gazed out towards destinations unknown. Unknowable. Both of her hands were still by her waist.

Coleridge didn’t notice his tears. It struck him, his wife’s beauty, so potent even after passing. They had buried her in the gown she’d worn during their small, enclosed ceremony. Shoulders laid bare and cleavage teased by the low cut of its collar. And still present, a bump indicating—

“Aye,” Smyth sighed. “Pity it was. Her passin’, I be meaning.”

He examined her face. One hand brushed against bundled curls and a cheek.

Some hidden part of Coleridge roared with lover’s passion. Such a man should not have been touching this woman. His woman.

His lips parted, order nearly tipping over tongue, but then—

Impossible.

Abominably!

Her bump bulged outward, skin gone loose. There were things inside it that pressed up against.

A great many things. Slender shapes swimming within. Horror blossomed outwards from the center of his chest, and his heart lurched—

Blood trickled down one leg. Not the hot and bright fluid of life, no. Such color would change after the moment of death. The darkened sludge ran in rivers!

Smyth took a sharp breath, stumbling back onto both hands. He resembled some befuddled crab more than a human. His eyes went wide. His lips were sputtering for words that did not come. Neither man screamed.

The bulge subsided for only a small merciful moment.

And then…

… Coleridge saw the river turn darker, thicker. Her skirt was disturbed by similar movements and pitchings as before.

Something slid out from between her parted legs. A head. Oh yes, a head breached into the new world, smaller than Coleridge had been expecting.

Less globe-like. More of an arrow-pointed shape. The mouth fell open and he waited, somewhat dumb, for the baying cry to spill forth. But what came was… Was… 

… Forked tongue.

Pair of fangs. 

Coleridge laughed.

He knew. 

Oh, he’d known.

Been knowing for hours and hours.

Satisfaction of being right met the horror, like a birth all its own.

Smyth breathed in, finally catching onto that scream.

With a hiss, the child came slithering even further, and soon would its siblings.

[redd956]

Do you have any ideas on how to come up with fictional vegetables, resource plants, or livestock? I keep coming up with fruit since I can’t really think of any ways of making a vegetable interesting or unique to a setting. The only resource plants I can think of is one that gives cotton and livestock has me stumped.

(Context: My world is full of rabbit-human hybrids that are omnivorous but mainly eat plant food, meat is usually eaten during special events. I want to focus on a world reliant on different crops for food and resources. There’s different biomes like a wooded area, an almost volcanic area, a snowy area, and a naturally occurring magic area.)

Yes, I do!!!

A lot of fruits and vegetables themselves are very similar in growth and function, the main difference being fruits come from fruiting bodies while vegetables are just part of the plant. That's when we get that weird middle group like corn, tomatoes, and eggplants.

But there's a lot of aspects to vegetables that make them unique, with lots of worldbuilding room

Everything is Edible

Creative juices flowing questions... (I'm also grouping grains and vegetables together btw)

What parts of the plants are primarily consumed? The stalks, leaves, roots, bulbs, flowers, tubers? (carrots are roots? Guess I learn something new everyday)

How is the edible part extracted from the plant? What does the plant look like in a crop field? How do people know when it's ready?

Does the vegetable need to go through a preparation process before being eaten? (Crushed, cleaning, cut open)

Does the plant have edible leaves, bean pods, kernels, nuts, oats? Does it have multiple uses? Does it produce more than one edible factor?

Is it harvest from the ground, water pools, trees? How tall is the plant?

How does it spread/reproduce? (flowers, potato eyes, seeds)

Usage & Flavor

Is the vegetable eating directly, usually added to something else, used as a spice? What does it taste like? (earthy, bitter, tangy, sour)

Is it used to make something else that's edible/used in cooking? (Oils, beers, yeasts, flavorings)

Are there non food related uses? (Medicinal, potion brewing, material)

Gourds (fruits but equally fun)

My family fries/grills the blossoms on pumpkins & zucchinis, and I couldn't stop thinking about that so here's some bonus rounds

How do people break into the hard casings to reach the edible parts? Is anything does with the hard casings? What funky shapes are the gourds?

What's inside? What does it look like? Tastes? Seeds? Other uses?

Does it have any decorative uses? Any holiday relation?

Tea & Coffee

What kind of drinks can be made from plants? What extra benefits and effects does it have? Any magical properties? Any recreational properties?

How is the plant extracted? How is it prepared into a drink?

Anything culturally significant?

What does the brew look like? How strong is the smell?

Environmental Factors

What vegetables survive in dry or unforgiving environments? How important are these two the people who live there? What were to happen if harvest failed?

Any diseases or bugs that affect produce? How do farmers protect their crops these? Any animals or technology help in the harvesting process?

How does temperature and rain effect the produce? Anything grow underneath the snow? Soil? Water? Underground? (Huge fan of snowy plants in worldbuilding)

How does the vegetable itself try to protect itself? (cactus needles, thorns, caffeine, poison)

[dragonfelling]

Anemoian Halloween Snippets

4 short snippets. One about the history of the festivals, one about mask crafting, another about a ritual, and another about a ghost.

- Autumn Festival

For a long time, Aemoi’s autumn festivals were ones regarding the harvest and a final hurrah before the colder winds came down from the north to frost the lands. Gourds would be harvested, brush burnt, and winter wheat would be planted. 

A costumed festival would be held when the frost stayed in the ground, with plenty of sweets and warm food and drink would be served cheaply in the markets. As midnight came, a short vigil would be held and the shrines would be covered in offerings and prayers would be spoken to it by a festival master.

Over the years Midonian influence had made room for a change. Midonia had always been a nation of death. It had always had standing folk traditions to appease the dead and strike fear into the patrons of death itself and the Nidus who traveled this time of year.

Gourds and other hard vegetables were carved into faces and tilted up to the sky as if to watch the nomadic feathered people following the migrating ungulate herds.

Fires, drinks, food and prayer for those departed and to honor for the faithful. Church groups  would go door to door asking for donations.

As Midonian culture integrated with the city of Aeraki, some new traditions were born from the union. For some, this meant more emphasis on the rituals, for others earlier in the night it meant something much more fun. 

- Mantis Mask

Cassius spent forever working on his mask. He has cut his hand over and over trying to carve the wood. Hand bandaged and a determined squint, the young boy of 9 would scrape off the final touches on the epistomal suture. It was perfect in his eyes! a mantis with all its fixings! Anna had tried to find one for him, but unfortunately not many artisans made invertebrates. The few that his mother had brought home had not been to Cassius’ standards. Cas wanted the mask to look much more realistic then the ones they offered… but, he was appreciative either way. He could at least get some inspiration from how they built the mask. He pulled the straps from it and used them for his own creation.

He painted it like one of the local species; pink and orange.

Cassius’ twin brother, Isaac, was much less picky. His only request was that he wanted a well crafted Vultu mask. He had recently read a story about a very brave Vultu and that was his most recent obsession. 

Both boys had their outfits matched with their masks. Cassius’ cloak looked like mantis wings and Isaac’s looked like the frills of a male Vultu. 

They had insisted upon the whole family going, so, after a long while of bugging their mother picked up a mask for herself, Aideen, and the toddler, Owen. She wore a deer doe’s head, while Aideen picked out a cute looking kitten with a fluffy mane. Owen pointed at an owl and made an excited squeal.

- The Shrine

Two people stood before Pinnas shrine; before the city of Aeraki. 

The festival master and his daughter in Pinnae Dragon masks, holding decorated candles.

Prince Iasis lit the first candle to be placed upon the stone and metal shrine. He supported an arc of light between his fingers, lighting the wick with his electrokinesis. 

He placed it in the cupped claws of the statue that held a copper alloy plate. It had recently been cleaned, but generations of wax build up left a greasy film that made the metal matte.

He turned to the crowd, putting his left hand on his chest and with his right he raised an open palm to the sky. 

“Another good year for us all; another year of prosperity. Be it they leave their wealth or sacrifice, Lord Pinna I ask you… Bless the lands another year and bless our people so they may bring a good harvest come the spring storms. Let us all live under your watch, warm, protected, and fortunate.” 

He reached his hand down to plant a hand on the shoulder of his daughter, Arias. She shifted from behind Iasis with another candle and held it up for him to light using the flame of the first candle.

When he handed the candle back to Arias she held it as if she were mirroring the statue. She bent down onto her knees carefully and slowly to place it at the Dragon God’s feet. She reached back to unclasp her necklace, resting it beside the candle and saying a short prayer by placing her hand on her chest and raising her hand just as her father did.

Iasis smiled down at her, a welling proudness filling his soul. She would make a wonderful festival master one day…

He assisted her to her feet and stepped down from the altar to their God king.

Iasis’ voice was replaced by heavy drums and woodwind, and two others replaced the festival master and his daughter.

Two new little dragons, who jumped up from either side of the shrine and pointed their blunted swords at each other. One was dressed as Lord Haeres, the other Lord Anemos. They’d dance an ancient production; one about the death of Haeres. The ending was finalized by Anemos holding his brother in his arms towards the shrine. 

‘Haeres’ pulled a red ribbon from under his wing cloak, making a loud “BLEEEHH” and ‘dying’ dramatically. 

Iasis crossed his arms… “DEIDRE! FLUVIUS!” he barked, face gone red under his mask.

This was not part of the ritual and he’d hear that over and over all night now from his older peers who would NEVER let their students pull that kind of stunt.

‘Anemos’ pulled ‘Haeres’ off the shrine stage, giggling and smiling wide under her mask.

After applause, a short laugh and chatter, the crowd would make their way in droves to leave candles, their gold, jewelry, craftsmanship, and delicate, expensive foods. 

- Ghost of the Infirmary

Jeremias laid back in his chair, staring out into the dark room with his signature frown. He squinted, trying to see whatever his girlfriend was seeing. Amara rubbed his shoulder, her arm around his head as she stood.

“Callahan's right there, Jere. I promise I'm not messing with you.”

“No, no, I believe you…” he muttered, covering his lips with a balled up fist. 

“I just… He's there?... What is he doing?”

Amara was relieved to see Jere had some belief in her. All her life, all these issues with dead boys among the castle grounds were simply her imagination according to her kin.

“Well, right now he's just looking at you.”

“Is… Is he in pain? Amara, please. I need more details then that.”

“No, I don't think he is.”

“You’re sure it's Calla?... Mar, a lot of boys have died here. It could be any of them.”

“Well, unless a ghost can lie about its own name, I don’t think it's someone else.” 

Jeremias sighed, bringing his hand up to his forehead and rubbing it. “Is he in pain?”

“No. He looks as he did when he passed on, but he's not in pain.”

“Why is he even still here?... Calla- Please-” Jeremias’ voice cracked, his brows furrowing deep grooves into his forehead.. “Please, you need to go. Go see mom…”

Amara squeezed his shoulder, leaning down and kissing the top of his head.

“He wants to watch you, Jere. He-” she frowned at his sudden, irritated interruption,

“GO. Dad is DEAD. He is GONE. He can't hurt us anymore so you can go. I don't need you to PROTECT me anymore.”

Amara frowned harder as she stared into the empty room. Silence rang through the hallowed walls.

“He can't yet. He's just not ready.”

“Why?... Is it Josef? Is he scared about Kid?”

“...Maybe. He won't say. All he tells me is that he can't go yet.”

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Well, I’m frustrated out of my gourd. UGH! Too many things not going right.

Ex. To go stay with Mom a week, very important with time running out, I have to have a way to feed the animals.

I haven’t found a single human being that can, or is willing, to help me out.

I do have feeders for the animals that can theoretically hold a week’s worth of food. Trouble is Ryoga (the hog) never would use the hog-feeder, despite it saying it was good for all hogs, including boars.

I spent a day trying to modify it so he would try to use it. I succeeded. He tried it ….and he cut his snout and face up.

Out of frustration he pulled lose the metal strapping I had it fasten to, so the whole feeder moves.

So, then I spent yesterday trying to modify everything about it so he wouldn’t get cut, and adding more metal bands to hold it.

Today was the big test and….

He can’t get his head in enough to eat much at all! The poor guy lifts up one foot and tilts at an alarming (for his bulk) angle to try to fit his head in, but he just can’t do it. The poor guy can see and smell the food, just not eat it.

Ryoga is now attempting to tear the whole thing apart to get at the food, and I expect to vent his anger.

The front panel is welded in place, so I can’t just open it up.

I have until tomorrow to tell my brother yes or no about being with Mom, and I haven’t even started on rigging and testing the cat feeder (we have only used it with dogs before, previously always having people willing to at least feed cats).

Meanwhile I have had a headache for two days straight, wasn’t able to talk to Mom for but a couple minutes, the car is making worrying noises, every single appliance and device has decided it’s time to have a new problem, I heard a chunk of the house fall at four AM, I’m out of everything including stuff for the animals, my bad ankle is hurting as it turns over more , my left arm (elbow, wrist, fingers, shoulder…all separate problems) bugs me constantly, I have a fresh handful of heart attack inducing bills, speaking of heart I’ve had two of my heart racing spells in the last week, I haven’t gotten more than five hours sleep in ages, making my birthday gift for Mom is going very, VERY badly**….

You get the idea.

I want a nap. Or a walk in the woods. Or how about a nap IN the woods. Just to sleep forever under a tree…..

But, instead, I think it’s time to take a sledge hammer to that damn hog feeder!

And you know, if I beat it into submission (AKA bend it for Ryoga’s head) I STILL have to rig a cover over it, now that I had to remove the flap built onto it. I know we haven't had any rain at all in two weeks, but I just know if I so off for a week it will be like monsoon season. Because that’s how things are going.

** At first it was it was mostly my inability to sculpt an orangutan (she’s a Discworld fan and I thought this would be an easy gift), but then I ran out of prepared sculpey. So now it’s a box of sculpey so old and hard it’s like trying to grind sand into putty, or a box to squishy and soft it’s like trying to sculpt with pudding. I need to mix the two, but doing that takes hours to make up a lump the size of a gumball. I’d need a week’s worth of evenings just to finish this attempt at a gift, and the sculpting has gone so badly I need to make one if I can.

This is almost certainly her last birthday, which is not only why I need to go be with her, but why I need this gift to be good. Right now it’s on track to be the worst thing I’ve ever made for her!

[everthewip]

something I began and intend to continue, but @janec23 was interested and so here is a (lengthy) snippet 💕

My file for this was just called 'Nameless Slave' but I think I will be changing it to simply 'Saga' or 'Saga & Ylva'. Full snippet below cut.

Autumn leaves had covered the forest floor, keeping a soft cushion beneath the bare soles of her feet. It was a comfort she prayed would last. But, too soon the trees began to grow sparse, the blanket of leaves giving way to cold dirt and pebbles. Along the border of the woods was a rocky hillside that stretched wide in both directions. Rather than attempt to find a way around, she gritted her teeth and began the ascent over it.

Tough as her feet were they could not withstand the sharp edges of the rocks. Blood warmed the cold stone as they cut into her, but she did not stop or give in to the pain. The sooner she passed over the rocky terrain the better. 

On the other side lay a valley, surrounded on all edges by the forest. Tall, yellowed grass swayed in the afternoon wind as mountain peaks loomed to the near east. On the northern end of the valley rose a writhing snake of smoke, its source a low-burning campfire. A wagon was stationed near it, along with three figures sitting around the flames. Two horses grazed nearby. 

There was a scent in the air, of burning wood and fried meat. For a while she stood there, letting the blood of her feet seep into the grass, watching the distant figures. Her tongue watered at the scents, stirring the hunger rooted so deeply in her belly - in her bones. 

It hurt to move but she moved anyway. She expected nothing. If the strangers proved violent, they might kill her and end her suffering. If they were merciful they might toss her a bit of meat. Likely they would ignore her, but even that would be enough; if she could but feel the heat of their fire and inhale the scents of their meal, even from a distance, she would be satisfied. To her surprise, however, as she drew close enough to be noticed - first by the horses, who snorted warily, and then by the three strangers who turned to watch her - one of them stood up. 

Of the three she was the only woman, but as she rose the woman’s mere height brought her approach to a pause. She wasn’t close enough to hear what they said, but she could see the three speak. The two men rose as well, but they turned to the wagon to begin gathering their things. The woman turned and walked into the valley. 

She was taller than any average woman, though the men were equally taller than any average man. Broad shoulders set the frame of a sturdy and toned build, though most of it was hidden beneath layers of light leather. She had a strong jaw with a face more handsome than beautiful, and cold blue eyes that never once looked away from the barefoot girl. The hair on her head was coal black and braided, the long rope falling over her shoulder and past her breasts. Hints of tattoos marked what little skin was exposed on her arms and chest. 

The woman almost came close enough to touch, but stayed back a step or two to instead loom over the hungry runaway. Wood, smoke and sweat clung to her like a heady perfume that was both pleasant and not. She smelled like a man and glared down with the expectant authority of one. 

“What do they call you?” Her voice was deep but not hard, softened ever so slightly by the subtle hints of her womanhood. 

“I--” In contrast, the runaway’s voice was harsh and strained, the words catching in the dry crevices of her throat. The woman seemed to sense this. 

“Come,” she motioned for her to follow and without hesitation her command was obeyed. She led her back towards the campfire. It had yet to be doused and the warmth that wafted from it was just as pleasant as she had imagined. With a nod the woman gestured to a wooden crate and upon it the smaller woman sat. 

The two men had gone to retrieve the horses and when they were not looking the woman moved to the wagon and retrieved a small gourd. This she offered to the barefoot girl, who - upon hearing the water sloshing within - immediately opened the gourd and guzzled it down.

“Slowly,” the blue-eyed stranger warned, and so with great reluctance she lowered the gourd from her lips.

“Now, what are you called?”

“I don’t.. I don’t know.” The words came more easily, but her voice was still strained, still rough. She sounded nothing like herself. 

“You do not know,” the woman repeated firmly. “All things have a name. Did you forget yours?” 

She shook her head. Her hands trembled, sloshing about the water remaining in the gourd. She wanted to drink more, but beneath the woman’s cold eyes she remained still. For a moment neither spoke, but she knew a clearer response was expected. 

“No,” she continued, answering more properly. “They… Took them.” The words came out slow and broken, each of them causing her throat to sting. “Our names.” Hesitant, she lifted the gourd to take a small sip. 

“They took your names,” the woman repeated again. There was another crate pushed close to the fire, and upon this she sat - though even seated she loomed like the mountains at her back. Her eyes fell over the girl, taking in every tattered, thin, and weary detail. Beside them the men had returned and were hitching the horses to the wagon, passing quiet glances towards the fire. 

“You are a slave,” the woman stated, and the girl gave a weak nod. “What is a slave doing out here, alone?” 

“I ran.” In the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, when her owners were still lost to a drunken sleep. The overseer had been preoccupied with beating another slave and she had slipped away, quietly and with surprising ease. They had always been too afraid to run; she had eventually stopped caring, not even enough to live. 

Her own hazel eyes rose to meet the dark blue of the mountain woman’s, and she was surprised to see a smile at her thin lips. 

“A nameless slave running into the woods with no shoes, no food, and barely any clothes. You are foolish. Did they feed you, your owners?” 

Weakly, she nodded. 

“And they gave you water?”

Another nod. 

“Clothes, a place to sleep?”

Again, she confirmed her answer, now only with a single nod and a nervous sip of the water. Whatever reason the woman had for questioning her, she was certain the result would be the same. With the aid of horses it would be a swift journey back to the outpost, and once there she would face either a painful punishment or an even quicker death. 

“You had food, water, clothes, and a place to sleep,” the woman continued. “You were alive, even if that life was a harsh one. And yet you gave it up, ran into the woods where you could die. Why did you run?” 

Her hands still trembled, but she steeled herself to answer, to explain; that the food they were given was small, barely scraps, and a common punishment was to be given no food at all; that the water was dirty and they were allowed only so many drinks a day; that their clothes were thin and tattered, handed down from slave to slave, and they were only given shoes in the winter or when working in rocky terrain; that they all slept together, often outside, even in the cold. She prepared herself to say all of these things and more, but when her gaze lifted to meet the harsh hue of the woman’s, her voice caught in her throat. They were both silent for a while before she could answer, and when she did her words drew a sudden warmth to the stranger’s fair face. 

“I’d sooner die freely in the woods…” She had to pause and take another sip of water, just to soothe her throat. “... than as a slave.”

“A good answer,” the woman grinned. “You have claimed your freedom and we will not hold you from that.” She cast a sharp look to the men, both of whom had stopped to watch and listen, their gazes less approving than her own. Besides the two crates upon which the women sat, they had piled the rest of their belongings onto the wagon. “But we won’t leave you to die in the wild either. Fell, Hagen - make room.” 

As the men began to move crates and sacks around on the back of the wagon, the woman took the gourd of water from the newly freed slave and helped her stand. After sitting even for those short moments the bloody soles of her feet stung sharper than when they’d been cut over the rocks. She limped and with every step flinched and bit back the pain. The woman watched her and did not berate her for being too slow; when they reached the wagon she even helped her up onto the back. That alone was more kindness than she had ever known. 

The last two crates were piled on the wagon, the campfire was doused, and the two men - Fell and Hagen - took their place at the front of the wagon. The woman sat in the back with her, but until the horses were guided onto a dirt path she remained silent. 

“I am Ylva,” she said after a while. “And if you have no name, I will call you Saga, for I expect one day you will have many tales to share, beginning on the day you became free.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Destinations

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Twenty-Four

A JSE Fanfic

It’s hard for me to summarize what happens in this part. Probably because we have two storylines running at the same time. So I guess I’ll sum them up separately. In one storyline, Chase continues to have magical dreams as he travels with Marvin and Jameson, and he talks more with the person in the well. In the other, Jackie and Henrik continue south to the city of Raefon, as Henrik’s symptoms begin to worsen without his medicine. These events happen at the same time. Enjoy :)

Previous Part | More AU

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days passed before Chase had another dream.

In that time, the three of them managed to find suitable horses, and were crossing into the farmlands of Glasúil. Almost the entirety of the kingdom’s central area was flat fields, interrupted by the occasional small stream or sparse woods. The land here was fertile, so of course, it was where most food was grown. Chase, Marvin, and Jameson spent most of the journey riding past rows of crops: wheat and gourds, mostly.

Marvin said that towns would start becoming more frequent as they got closer to Suilthair. The fact seemed to make him and Jameson nervous. Of course they were. Towns meant more royal warriors, and the King had good reason to capture or kill them both. Chase suggested they avoid towns whenever possible. They readily agreed.

On the third night, they camped next to a creek. Chase climbed into his bedroll and fell asleep almost immediately, tired from a long day of travel.

When he next opened his eyes, he was in the draísling’s garden.

By now, he was used to it. He was more surprised he was back so soon after the last dream. That had to be a sign of some kind, right? He looked at the deer, its golden antlers gleaming. It looked towards the well, as it always did, but the motion was quicker this time. More urgent in its gesturing.

Chase hurried over, shouldering through the invisible force trying to keep him back, and soon he was holding onto the stone wall, trying to keep steady. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, listening into the well.

The person was still there. Chase tried to listen to what they were saying, but they were speaking too quietly. He thought he could make out the tone, though. It sounded... Did it sound sad? “Hello?” he called. “Are you okay?”

A moment of silence. “It’s... it’s you again,” the person said, words echoing up from the bottom of the well. It was just like he remembered; their voice had that dream-like state where he couldn’t identify anything about them.

“Yes, it’s me.” Chase nodded. Then he felt stupid for it, since the person couldn’t see him. “I’m back. And I—I’d still like to help.”

“You... A-are you really... a real person?” they asked hesitantly.

“Of course I am.” Chase tightened his grip on the well’s wall. “I’ve been having this dream for a while. I’m in a garden at night, and there’s a well in the center, and I have to walk up to it. The...the last time we spoke, you called this a nightmare. Is it one you’ve had often?”

They laughed. “I-I’ve had a nightmare every night. This one, with the—you said it was a well? It’s fairly new. It started a couple seasons ago. Before that, I had a different one for a few seasons. And before that, another one. And... so on. It’s... been like this for years. But I’ve always been alone.” They paused. “Either I’ve finally lost my senses, or you’re real and these nightmares have somehow been magic the whole time. They’re both likely.”

“I’m real,” Chase insisted. “You can... you can address me as Chase.” It was a careful way of phrasing, one that he’d learned from the oldest stories. Words chosen carefully so that magical beings like the Fair Folk couldn’t take your identity. “Can I address you as something?”

A long moment passed. Chase struggled to stay put as the invisible force tried to buffet him back. He almost gave up on getting an answer when the voice said, quietly, “...Jack. Address me as Jack.”

“Jack.” That probably wasn’t their real name. It was the most common name in Glasúil. Chase had known five Jacks growing up in Hilltown. But it served the purpose. “Jack, I’d like to help you. But I... I don’t know how. Do you?”

“I think I asked you this last time, but is there anything I can climb up?” Jack suggested.

Chase looked around. There was nothing in the garden that could possibly reach into the depths of the well. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s alright,” Jack said, resigned. “Fuck, I probably couldn’t have used it, anyway. My leg... it’s... I’ve been shackled to the floor.”

“What?” Chase gasped. “Has it always been?”

“For as long as I’ve had this nightmare. And eventually, there’s—” Jack suddenly shrieked. “That’s it! There’s the water!”

“The water?!”

“It’s rising, i-it always rises!”

“Shit!” Chase’s head whirled around the garden once more. Flowers, bushes, trees—trees? Maybe he could break a branch from that? Could it reach down there? “H-hang on, Jack, I’ll find something!” He stepped away.

“Wait, Chase!” Jack called desperately. “Don’t leave me!”

But the moment Chase had taken a step away from the well, the force increased, an invisible wind pushing him farther—

And then he woke up, gasping, to an orange sky of sunrise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Chase, Marvin, and Jameson had been riding towards Suilthair, Jackie and Henrik were walking through forested foothills, heading south. They didn’t talk much. Being hunted down by an entire town had put them both on edge, and they were constantly looking over their shoulders. Food was low, but they decided to hurry south as fast as possible, rather than waste time hunting or foraging. They also slept in shifts, trading in the middle of the night.

Or at least, they were supposed to sleep in shifts.

They were passing through a clearing when Jackie said, “So, you didn’t wake me up last night.”

“Hmm?” Henrik hummed, distracted.

“Henrik.” Jackie nudged him. “Don’t think I’ll forget about this. I didn’t bring it up earlier because I wanted to get walking quickly. But now we’re walking. Did you think I wouldn’t say anything?”

“You needed sleep,” Henrik said. “And now we are even. After all, you let me sleep that night after that town, with the enchanter who made everyone look like shadow people, which was really frightening, and I know you probably didn’t wake me up sooner because I had passed out on my own, but you really could have, there is nothing wrong with waking up someone who had passed out, in fact in some cases you should wake them up as soon as possible, particularly if their head has been injured, but enchanting does not count as a head injury because even if the mind is seeing things wrong it is magic and not a physical issue so it is really different but even so you could have woken me up—”

“Henrik!” Jackie stopped walking. Henrik did not, so he hurried to keep up. “You’re speaking too fast! And when I’m saying that, you know it’s a problem.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie,” Henrik sighed. “It is for the same reason I didn’t go to sleep last night. Because I couldn’t sleep last night. It was actually incredible, if I think about it, I hadn’t felt such alertness since we tried that bitter bean drink from the far south, what was that called again? That was years ago, of course, so I don’t remember. But when you really think about it, this alertness is not a good thing, because it comes from scattered thoughts, my mind is going too fast and I could not get it to settle for sleep, and I cannot get it to settle now to stop talking, even though I know I—”

“Scattered thoughts?” Jackie repeated, looking worried. “Henrik, isn’t that one of the symptoms?”

Henrik nodded. “It is. And this is why I say it is not a good thing because—”

“Because you didn’t get to sleep last night, that’s why it’s not a good thing,” Jackie interrupted. “Now, you’re the doctor here, not me, but I know a sleepless night can really hurt you.”

“It can, it can, it can, I know this, I spent years studying and apprentice-ing—Schwestern, I really need to shut up, yes?” Henrik gritted his teeth, as if he could physically keep back the flow of words. It worked. But it didn’t do anything to calm the whirling thoughts in his head. They felt solid in his mind, a pressure from inside, creating heat as they jumped from one subject to the next, interrupting each other before they were even done forming—

“Henrik? Henrik!” Jackie grabbed Henrik’s shoulders and shook them. “Did you hear a word I just said?!”

“Huh? Ah...no.”

“Elders.” Jackie stared at him, clear concern on his face. “I said at least scattered thoughts are a more harmless symptom, but we should still be worried, more are probably coming. Like the untethering. Were you untethered just now?”

“No, not quite. I was... lost in those thoughts.” Henrik spoke slowly, making sure that his words wouldn’t get away.

Jackie sighed. The two of them had paused walking, but he started up again now. “Well. How’s your leg?”

Henrik followed him. “Fine, fine. Healed enough to walk.”

“You’re limping a bit.”

“To be expected. There are no wizards here to heal instantly, so the process is slow.” Henrik flashed a grin. “But I can keep pace. We will be at that town in no time. What was it? Raefon?”

“That was it.” Jackie sighed. “I hope we’ll be there soon.”

“...me too,” Henrik whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase, Marvin, and Jameson spent the next four days on the road. The farmlands gradually shrank as more and more towns appeared. Big towns. They tried to avoid them as much as possible, as Chase had suggested days ago, but sometimes it was easier to quickly cut through a town than spend valuable time circling around it. These places were fascinating to Chase. The stone-and-wood buildings were packed together, with narrow, winding streets around them. There were no single-story houses in these towns. Each building was at least two floors, if not three, looming over the people below, casting the streets in shadow.

The roads were paved now, even the ones outside of the towns. Stone blocks, carved in interlocking shapes, flattened after decades—if not centuries—of travels. Their horses’ hooves made satisfying clopping sounds as they rode across them, joined by the sounds of other travelers.

And there were more and more travelers every day. Horses pulling carts full of goods to sell, shepherds driving sheep and goats to the nearest town to auction, coaches that transported common folk from one town to another for a small fee, even the occasional carriage for a noble house. Chase asked if it was wise for them to be traveling among all these people, but Marvin said it would be stranger if they suddenly came out of the wilderness as they got close to Suilthair. And besides, they weren’t the only group of horsemen on the roads.

On the fourth night, they arrived at the city of Golthaín, one of the closest cities to Suilthair. “I imagine we’ll be at the capital by nightfall tomorrow,” Marvin said. He let out a long breath, and reached down to pet Draco, who was sitting in the horse’s saddle in front of him.

“It’s already getting dark,” Chase looked up at the sky. The sun was already out of view. “Do you think we should find a place to sleep for the night?”

“Might as well,” Marvin muttered. “Let’s look for some place with a stable.”

They found one: an inn called the Sleeping Sheep, which had a tavern on its bottom floor as well. The prices were high, but apparently that’s how all inns were in cities. Marvin managed to get them all one room to share, with two pairs of bunk beds.

You would think for this price, the room would be more... roomy, Jameson said when they arrived there. Two of them couldn’t stand shoulder-to-shoulder without touching a piece of furniture. And the view’s not that great, either, he added, pointing out the curtained window, which was facing the stone wall of the neighboring building.

“Are you going to complain about the walk up the stairs, too?” Chase muttered. He set his pack down on the nearest bed (a bottom bunk), claiming it. “Have both of you been to Suilthair before?”

“I used to be required to go for court, but my family stopped making me go once they realized they couldn’t stand being in a carriage with me for a week,” Marvin replied, setting Draco on the bunk above Chase to claim that one.

Jameson pursed his lips. He nodded. It’s where he kept me, he said slowly. When he wasn’t taking me with him somewhere.

Chase decided not to ask about that. “What’s it like?”

“Beautiful,” Marvin said. “But also crowded and dirty, like any city. Their sewers do wonder for the state, though. I suppose it’s easy to drain them into the surrounding lake.”

“Is it true that the Green Lake shines like a sheet of crystal?” Chase asks.

Occasionally, Jameson said. It can be stunning. But I’m sure the location wasn’t chosen for its beauty. It’s very easy to defend a city when it’s completely surrounded by water. King Samuel probably knew that when he set his capital there. He was a smart man. He paused. It does make it hard to get food, but that’s what the ferries are for. 

“We should get some sleep,” Marvin said. “If we get up early, we might get there before sunset.”

“If you insist.” Chase flopped down onto his bed. “Good night, then.” He was too tired to bother changing out of his clothes before closing his eyes.

He slept. And he dreamed he was in the garden again.

Chase blinked. He immediately started scanning the area, looking for anything that could help Jack escape the well. There was nothing in sight. So he tried to walk around, only to rediscover that he couldn’t go any direction besides towards the well. Not for lack of trying. Even though it felt like he was walking, he never truly moved anywhere else.

He glared at the deer, wanting so badly to shout “What am I supposed to do?!” but he was still unable to speak. The deer nodded urgently towards the well, so he sighed, and pushed forward.

It was getting easier to walk up to the well. The force pushing against him was as strong as ever, but he was experienced now. Quicker than ever before, he reached the well, grabbing onto it. Now, he just had to stay here. “Hello?” he shouted. “Jack, are you there?”

A pause. “Where else would I fucking be?” Jack’s voice called back.

Chase barked out a dry laugh.

“I thought... I-I thought something happened to you,” Jack said quietly. “When you didn’t come back.”

Chase’s throat closed up. He forced the words out. “I’m sorry. I don’t have this dream every night. I wish I could. You shouldn’t be alone down there.” He took a deep breath. “I really don’t think there’s anything I can do to get you out. Not yet, at least. Maybe I’ll figure something out eventually. Again, I’m... I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Chase. You don’t need to get me out.”

“But I can’t just leave you there!”

“You don’t have to leave me!” Jack’s voice was tinged with a desperate hope. “Just—just stay for as long as you can. Talk to me. About anything! Please.”

Chase wanted so badly to insist that he should keep trying, that if he just kept looking maybe he could find a way out. But... he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t venture from the path to the well. There was nothing he could do. “Okay,” he whispered. Then he raised his voice so Jack could hear him. “Okay. I’ll stay. Um... what do you want to hear about?”

“Anything. Literally anything. Um—do you have family?”

“I’m married,” Chase said.

“Really?”

“Yes. I have a wife and kids. A son and a daughter, eight and ten.” Amabel’s name day was soon, actually. “Nearly eleven.” A lump formed in Chase’s throat. He couldn’t talk about this. “What about you?”

“No.”

“No? You don’t have family?”

“My parents passed years ago,” Jack said. “I’ve never been married, though I know I’ll have to be at one point. Have kids. All that.”

“You’ll have to be married?” Chase repeated, confused. “You never have to get married. It’s up to you.”

Jack paused. “You... you’re a commoner, aren’t you?”

Chase felt indignation swell in his chest. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Sorry, sorry! I just—it’s a bit fucking obvious.” Jack laughed. “I’m not... My family is noble. And when you’re noble, marriage is a tool. It’s all politics, really. Marry someone to strengthen your holds and keep the family going. I hear it’s even worse in other places, other kingdoms. They insist on biological kids.”

“I’ve talked to nobles,” Chase said, thinking of Marvin and Jameson. “They’ve never mentioned this.”

“Maybe it doesn’t apply to them. Do they have siblings?”

“Uh... in a sense.”

“Then the pressure is lightened. Their siblings can keep tradition. I’m an only child.” Jack sounded almost... wistful.

“I don’t have siblings, either,” Chase said.  “My wife has a sister. She’s a merchant, though, and we haven’t heard from her in a while.” He wondered if Stacia’s sister had heard about what happened to their village. He wondered if she thought they were all dead.

Jack stifled a scream. “Th-the water’s coming again. It always scares me, fuck, I hate that.”

“I’ll be here again!” Chase promised. “I can’t control my dreams, but I’ll be here again!”

“Thank you, Chase,” Jack said, sounding breathless. “Thank you... so much.”

And Chase awoke with that thank you ringing in his ears, the pure relief in Jack’s voice lingering in his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Untethering was very easy for Henrik.

It was an escape from the tedium of the walk and the whirling of scattered thoughts. His body could move on its own, it didn’t really need his mind to be there directing it. One step after another. Eyes going unfocused. It only became a problem when there were obstacles in the path, small rocks or roots coming from the dirt. Then he would stumble and right himself, waking back up to thoughts speeding unbearably fast. He would untether again soon after.

Jackie noticed. Of course he did, he knew what to look for. After their fourth day of travel was filled with Henrik’s chattering, the fifth day of complete silence was cause for concern. So Jackie chattered instead, trying to keep Henrik tethered to the here and now. It worked a little bit. Especially when Jackie would say things that he knew would annoy Henrik with how wrong they were, like trying to explain how to make medicines that he’d barely even heard of.

But that approach only worked for a day and a half. Soon, Jackie’s voice started to blend into the background noises. And there were a lot of background noises. Other voices, mostly. Whispering things Henrik usually couldn’t understand. The voices he could hear weren’t very nice.

Henrik had spent long enough with these symptoms to recognize them when they showed up. But it was hard to fight them without his medicine. Still, he tried. He tried to stay tethered, tried to keep his thoughts in order, tried to ignore the background noises. Keeping in contact with Jackie helped. As they walked, Henrik held onto his hand, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Something solid. Something he could grasp.

They arrived at the city of Raefon while Henrik was going through an untethered period. He didn't remember their approach. One moment, he noticed that the ground beneath his feet was cobblestone and not bare earth, and that snapped him back to reality.

Raefon was a moderately-sized port town. The buildings were brown stone, with heavy wooden support beams crisscrossing their facades. Their roofs were peaked and covered with red shingles. Every road led down to the docks eventually. Merchants had set up stalls and shops along the pier, hoping to ensnare potential buyers arriving from or departing for one of the few ships anchored in the harbor. Townsfolk hurried about, filling the streets. People were always busy in a port town.

“Henrik, are you with me?” Jackie asked, squeezing Henrik’s hand.

“Yes.” Henrik squeezed back. “What are we doing right now?”

“I’ve been looking for ghíneol,” Jackie said. “But it’s hard to find my way around. I was thinking that one of these merchants would have some, what do you think?”

Henrik looked to the left and right, scanning the stalls and shops. He shook his head. “None of them have plants for sale. They are all material goods. See, they always have samples of wares set up and it is all cloth and jewelry and other things that are made and crafted.”

“Hmm.” Jackie mimicked his glance-around. “Alright. I see. But we haven’t walked all around the pier yet.”

“Even so, I doubt there will be anything medical sold on the pier, other than seasickness remedies. People are likely to have already packed all their own medicines when leaving or returning.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “How do you know this? Wait, let me guess. Vsevna?”

“Oh, shush.” Henrik looked away. He didn’t miss the implication in Jackie’s teasing tone. So what if Vsevna told him a lot about what it was like to dock a ship, to leave and arrive from a port town? So what if Henrik had listened intently, watching the brightness in his expression, unconsciously leaning closer in hopes of brushing hands or shoulders? So what if Vsevna said that he wanted Henrik to come with him on a voyage together, and Henrik had thought about that often, about the two of them alone together in the cabin of a ship in the middle of the night... Wait, what was his point?

“Focus, Henrik.” Jackie nudged him. “Stay tethered.”

“I was not untethering, I was just thinking about—ah, nevermind.” Henrik looked away, very aware of how hot his face was. “We need to find an apothecary or a doctor. Did you see anything?”

“No.” Jackie looked up into the sky, shielding his eyes with his hand. The sun was setting to the west, causing the ocean to glimmer gold on one end. “Maybe we should find a place to stay before it gets dark. Elders know it’ll be hard to find somewhere with this maze of a street layout.”

“There are usually ones near the pier,” Henrik said. “But those are full of sailors, and they are a certain type of people. Very loud, usually rough. I think we want to avoid that crowd.”

“Vsevna told you that, too?” Jackie asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Henrik shoved him. “Do not make anything about it.”

“Alright, alright.” Jackie turned around, heading back into town. “He likes you, you know.”

“Not the way I like him,” Henrik whispered, thinking it was too quiet for Jackie to hear.

“You won’t know that until you tell him, will you?” Jackie said.

Henrik’s face grew hotter, and he didn’t reply.

They walked for a while. Henrik took notes of the different sights, sounds, and smells, so different from anything he’d recently experienced. They’d been stuck in forests for so long, where the air smelled of earth and leaves. Now it smelled and tasted of salt. He held onto small sensations like this, keeping himself tethered.

Eventually, they found an inn called the Crown and the Cat. “Marvin would like that name,” Henrik chuckled.

Jackie grinned as well. “He would. Let’s see if this place would match his standards.” And the two of them went inside.

The inn’s bottom floor actually served as a tavern, as was common for inns in larger cities. They walked around circular wooden tables to the counter at the back, where a young woman was cleaning glasses. “Can I get ya anything?” she asked. “Ale? Whiskey? W’have some Lodkan liquor if you’re willing t’pay for it.”

“Are there any rooms available?” Jackie asked.

“One moment.” The woman set down the glass she was holding and disappeared through a back door, returning with a new person around her same age. “Amry’s the innkeep, I’m the barkeep. Speak to them.”

The newcomer—Amry, apparently—folded their arms. “Heard you want a room.”

Jackie nodded. “Just for two or three nights.”

“Well, unfortun’ly for you, we’ve been all booked up recently. So’ve all other inns in Raefon.”

“What?” Jackie’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure?”

Amry nods. “There’s been threats of pirates on the coast. Unusual for this area, but it’s got everybody spooked. People who were planning to head to sea are staying on land instead.” Their eyes glimmered. “But if you’re willing t’pay more than some other patron, I might be inclined to tell them their time’s up and they have to move on.”

Jackie looked at Henrik, who frowned. Neither of them felt good about taking a room from someone else who needed one, not when they’d been fine sleeping in the wilderness for the past week. “Maybe if we talk to these patrons, someone might be willing to...trade?” Jackie suggested. “I’d rather try to convince them than get them kicked out.” Henrik nodded in agreement.

“It’s your effort, not mine,” Amry said, shrugging. “The last patrons who booked a room are here tonight, actually. The tall man and the short man, sitting at the table in the corner. Say they’re from the north.” They pointed. “You can start with them.”

“Thank you.” Jackie nodded.

He and Henrik made their way in that direction. The tavern wasn’t bursting at the seams with customers, but almost every table was full, and the people blocked their view of the table in the corner. There was also a trio of musicians performing on a stage against one wall, so it was hard to hear anything coming from that table, either. But then they rounded around one table and—

“Jackie.” Henrik tightened his grip on Jackie’s hand. “Is that...?”

Jackie blinked. Then he grinned. “I think it is.”

The two men sitting in the corner table were Lukas and Tripp—two fellow Phantoms that they’d last seen when Wyvernlair was attacked. The pair of them were sitting and talking quietly, but then Lukas glanced up and noticed Jackie and Henrik approaching. His eyes widened, and he nudged Tripp, who also looked up and broke into a big smile. As soon as Jackie and Henrik were within earshot, he stood up and said, “Well, of all the taverns to walk into! Look who it is!”

“I can’t believe you two are okay!” Jackie said, relief visible on his face.

“Have a little faith in us, please,” Lukas said. “Sit. We shouldn’t attract too much attention.”

They sat in two of the three empty seats. “What are you doing here?” Henrik asked.

“We came down here from the mountains,” Tripp replied, sitting back down. “Each of us were on our own for a day or so before runnin’ into each other. I half-thought the, ah...squad from earlier had found me, but it was jus’ this asshole.” Lukas rolled his eyes. “We came down here together. This is the closes’ town to our meeting place, after all. Figured others might also make that connection and find their way here. It seems like that strategy worked out.”

“Have you heard any word from Nemet?” Henrik pressed.

“Or Holly?” Jackie added. “Or anyone else?”

Lukas shook his head. “No sign of Nemet or Holly.”

Henrik slumped. Last time he’d seen Nemet, she’d saved him from Thalia Tinechroí, who’d led the raid on Wyvernlair. He had left her there, facing down the wizard by herself. He hoped that she was alright... but the odds weren’t in her favor.

“But we did meet up with someone else here,” Lukas continued. He jerked his head upward, to the inn above. “Anna is here.”

“Really?” Jackie’s eyes widened. “She left days before the rest of us.”

“Apparently she came here. They have a messenger bird outpost in Raefon, and she’s been spending the last week sending and receiving messages from other... friends.” Lukas chose the word carefully, not wanting to mention other Masked Phantom camps in a crowded tavern.

“Are the three of you rooming together, then?” Jackie asked. “Because Henrik and I have just arrived here, and the innkeeper said there’s no room in the inns.”

“No, Anna has her own,” Tripp said. “But d’you know why there’s no room in the inns?”

“Innkeep said that there are rumors about pirates.”

“Aye, there are,” Tripp nodded. “But that’s not all. Did ye notice how there were no big ships in the harbor? Even a port town this small would get at least two. We’ve done some askin’ around, and the King has been takin’ over every large ship he can.”

“Commandeering,” Lukas said. “That’s the proper term. Rumors say he’s doing this with every ship in the kingdom, and it’s made everyone land-bound.”

Jackie frowned. “Why would he want ships? Unless...” He paused. “Could he be forming a navy?”

“Glasúil already has a navy,” Tripp pointed out.

“Not a big one. And not with big ships. The navy’s focus is on defending the island, why would they need large ships meant for deep-ocean sailing?” Jackie shook his head. “It could be harmless. The King could be focusing on forming some sort of trade guild. But...” He lowered his voice. “We know him too well for that.”

Jackie kept talking. His voice was familiar to Henrik, soothing. But it was hard to pick it out from the clamor of other people talking. The other customers in the tavern were being very loud. He tried to make out what they were saying, what was so important that they needed to be louder than anyone else in the room. But he couldn’t make out the words. Henrik tilted his head back, trying to figure out what they were...

“Worthless.”

Henrik flinched. It sounded like that came from right next to him, near his left ear. He turned towards it, but there was no one there.

“What a failure.”

That came from his right side. His head snapped towards it, but there wasn’t anything there, either. But it was so clear. Was it magic, maybe? Marvin had once said that wizards could project their voices.

“Should just give up and die.”

That was behind him! He spun around to confront whoever said that. Still, nothing. His eyes scanned the faces of the other tavern customers. Were any of them looking at him? Waiting for his reaction? Why would they make him hear such cruel things?

“A disgrace.”

“Absolutely worthless.”

“Du wirst am Ende tot sein.”

Wait, that wasn’t Glassish. That was Alterdan. He’d barely said a word coming in here, who’d overheard his voice and picked out his accent? Who was staring at him? One of them had to be staring at him. He could feel it, the prickle on the back of his neck, and he could see the eyes in the corner of his vision. His hands curled into fists in his lap.

“Henrik?”

Someone touched his arm. He hissed something at them, some warning to get away. He had to figure out who was doing this he had to figure it out he had to—

Now someone was shaking his arm. He shoved them off. Someone was talking to him, but a lot of people were talking to him, and most of them were calling him terrible things, telling him he was a waste of a doctor and a failure at a rebel—after all, their main camp had been found, hadn’t it? How many people had been captured that night? How many people had died? How many had he killed, on purpose or by accident, directly or indirectly, as a doctor and a rebel?

Now someone had grabbed his arm and was pulling him to his feet. Henrik snapped back to see Jackie—Jackie was doing that. “What are you doing?!” Henrik shouted. “This is important!”

Jackie glanced around uneasily. “We’re tired, we need to get to bed.”

“Nein, nein.” Henrik shook his head. “There are spies in here, Jackie, they are watching us, they know about us! Can you not see them watching us?”

“No, I can’t,” Jackie said patiently. “But if there are people watching us, we need to get out of sight, right?”

That was a good idea. Henrik nodded slowly.

“Right. So let’s go upstairs. Lukas and Tripp are sharing their room with us.” Jackie tugged at his arm gently.

Henrik allowed himself to be dragged away, but he glared at the tavern customers as they edged towards an open doorway with a staircase inside. Some of the customers were definitely staring. He snarled at them, letting them know he was onto them. And then they reached the staircase, and slowly stepped up and up until the tavern disappeared from sight.

“Schneep, I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?” Jackie’s voice was gentle, calming and heavy. “I didn’t see or hear any spies or anything in there. Neither did Lukas or Tripp.”

“There were people staring at us!”

“Well, you did shout about being watched.”

“Before that!” Henrik insisted.

“I see.” Jackie nodded. “Our room is protected, though. Lukas and Tripp have made sure to keep it safe.”

Henrik could feel himself shivering, even though it wasn’t cold. “But what if it is like that night in the town? With the mob?”

“We’ll be ready. Take sleeping shifts, keep watch. The window of the room overlooks an awning that tilts down, so we can go out that way and drop to the ground if we need to. It’s going to be alright.”

They were walking down a hallway now. Jackie stopped outside a door made of dark red wood and took a key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, revealing a normal inn room, with two double beds, a window, a wardrobe, and a table with two chairs. It was fairly cramped, but that was fine. They headed inside. “I want the key,” Henrik said.

“Here.” Jackie handed it to him. “But don’t lock the door yet. Lukas and Tripp are on the way up.”

Henrik nodded, and sat down at the table, on the chair closer to the window. He stared at the window for a while, watching the sky darken. And, slowly, that feeling of being watched faded... and he realized what just happened. “Did I... make a scene?” he whispered.

Jackie was lying down on one of the beds, but he didn’t look all that relaxed. He barked out a laugh. “Not too much of a scene, but a scene.”

“They were not magic,” Henrik said quietly. “They were just... more symptoms. And I didn’t realize it. I slipped right into it.”

“Were you hearing something?” Jackie asked.

Henrik nodded. “More voices. You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

“No.”

Henrik groaned. “There are probably no spies in there.”

“There’s no guarantee of that,” Jackie said. “The last town proves that the King’s sympathizers are everywhere. We can’t let our guard down.”

“There is a difference between an upped guard and paranoia,” Henrik muttered.

“It’s fine,” Jackie reassured him. “Nothing really happened.”

At that moment, the door opened. Henrik tensed, but it was just Lukas. “Tripp’s gone to get Anna, so we can all catch up,” he said. “Everyone’s moved on downstairs. I offered to buy them all a round of ale and that distracted them. I hope you all have gold or jasper, because that’ll take up the last of my savings.”

“Lukas,” Henrik said quietly. “I am sorry about that.”

“It’s... it’s okay,” Lukas sighed. “But... can I ask why?”

Henrik took a deep breath. He glanced at Jackie, who nodded supportively, and then looked back at Lukas. “Have you heard of Dymphna’s false world?”

Lukas straightened. “I’ve heard of a false world curse, but not that particular type.”

“I wish there was a different word for it in this language than ‘curse’,” Henrik said, almost bitterly. “That makes it sound like it is magic, when it is not. In Alterde, it is called a ‘Krankheit des Geistes’: an illness of the mind. But I am still not sure how I feel about that, either.” He rubbed his eyes. “Dymphna’s false world is not too different from the typical false world curse. It comes with the same symptoms, You become untethered from the world. You find it hard to connect ideas. You see, hear, and believe things that are not true. But there is the added difficulty of high energy that scatters your thoughts. And sometimes low energy that makes it all seem so... empty. But it is mostly high for me.”

“Is... is that what your medicine was for?” Lukas asked delicately. “I’d seen you with it, but I didn’t want to ask...”

“Schwestern, no one wants to ask in this kingdom!” Henrik cried. “It is frustrating!” He grunted, then relaxed a little. “I do appreciate that here in Glasúil, you accept whatever someone says about their needs with no questions. But sometimes I would like someone to ask.”

“Who else knows?” Lukas asks.

Henrik gestured at Jackie, silently asking him to continue. “I do, of course, and so does Marvin,” Jackie said. “Nemet does, Anna and Tripp do—that’s why Tripp wasn’t as confused as you were downstairs. But not many people beyond that. Elders, I don’t think Chase even knows, let alone Jameson.”

“I should tell them,” Henrik muttered.

“If you want,” Jackie said. “But... Lukas, we need to find ghíneol root. Henrik is out of medicine, and that’s the most important ingredient to making more. Problem is, it’s hard to find this time of year.”

“I’ll help look,” Lukas said immediately. “And so will Tripp and Anna, I just know it. We can delay meeting the others at the Cliffs of Feall for a while more.”

Henrik didn’t say it, but he appreciated the way Lukas immediately volunteered. “I... am going to lie down for a while,” he said, standing up.

“Here.” Jackie stood as well. “This side of the room is ours.” He chuckled. “Or you can ask to room with Anna, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, but I would prefer not.” Henrik walked over and immediately collapsed on the bed. He closed his eyes. “You two be quiet for a bit.”

“Right.” He heard the sound of the chairs being pulled across the wooden floor, then creaking as Jackie and Lukas sat down. They began to speak, quietly, almost mumbling, giving Henrik the silence he wanted.

But it wasn’t really silent. It would never be truly silent anymore.

[axl-ul]

The Flight of the Western Crane: Chapter Eleven

(A reupload/repost of my fic/dark retellingof Journey tot he West because the whole AO3 site, where I originally posted this, got taken down for now)

(General info about this fic/wip/retelling is here)

****

A distant screech woke the demon from his shallow sleep. He shot up and looked around only to find himself in a tiny alcove. His body was still aching, the small of his back was as if on fire, his innards distorted so much, it sent shivers down his spine. He felt sick from the stomach. He looked to his side, expecting a person to be there. All he found was an empty place, cold and dark like the void that gave birth to him once.

The nameless demon grabbed the gourd next to him and watered his head. Droplets cascaded down his sharp contours. Grinding his teeth, his shadow slid past to the open space of the grove. Monkey whoops spiralled down his ears and into his mind where the false sound settled down. Crickets were still lively, moving from one straw to another, like the fireflies gathering closely to them. The golden colour of the flying insect resembled the macaque's eyes who stared into the empty void ahead of himself. Those shiny dots soon lost the fire behind them, the liquid gold darkened significantly. The woods were too dull for him. He was fed up with everything around him. This forest, this wretched mountain was but a failed lookalike.

Suddenly, something white brushed against his cheek. Nervous at first, he turned around. He snorted, fangs glistened in the pale moonlight. There, on the ground, was but a feather of an unknown bird. Its fall reminded him of the carriage he wrecked many days ago. The hunger took over him before he could have thought about a trap or a trick. Still, it was nearly a perfect attack with no survivor. Then the demon caught a glimpse of two young women. Injured from the hard fall, he had to vanish before they noticed him, as well. But that was long ago. It’s impossible for him to remember such trivial matters. Although, the second woman, the image of her was engraved into his vision whenever he went to sleep. The demon couldn’t describe whether he felt tenderness or dread in those moments, but something foreign washed over him for sure. These latest dreams felt…different. His own and still, an indescribable nudge urged him to deny these fabrications of night to belong to him.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his cloak and put it on, the sharp movement made a whistling sound. Quickly, he hid himself and his grim intentions from the rest of the world.

One distant jump forward and the air was completely different - fresh and finally breathable. He crouched down and while recalling the events of his awakening, the macaque thought to himself. Should he feel repelled by himself? What about Buddha, the one who lies despite condemning deception? Or the Jade Emperor, the one who had no remorse upon darning his own sister and creating a living hell for his nephew? The demon offered the starless sky above his head a crooked smile. A group of pretentious murderers, liars and tricksters, all they do is judge.

Was it truly a sin when one must feed himself to sustain his strength and energy? Wouldn’t it be a pity for him to perish when he’d already achieved so many great things and many more are yet to come to his glory? Should he be the monster when he’s little to no different from the Immortals? It was his right, just like anybody else’s who has the ability and capability.

He became dizzy. The eerie demon with smouldering eyes no longer contained his disgust. Words he barked out burnt the air until the grove became a petrifying hell.

“He had everything at his command. That darned moron, that idiotic rascal could have been the next Emperor. All he had to do was to keep his cool and not to get overwhelmed by a snob who pretends to be a god. He was the greatest, the eternal. Sun Wukong could get anything he demanded…No. I. It was me the whole time. I was in charge of following the golden destiny! He is a fool. A cheap copy of me and no-one else. I, who hears into the four corners of the world, who knows every secret of living creatures, the one who went to Hell and came back. It was me who ruled Mount Huaguo as its rightful king and the greatest warlord! He stole my life, locked me away inside his head just to succumb and pretend to be an obedient circus monkey! He stole five centuries away from me, at least!“ He grabbed his head, expecting his claws to clink against a golden circlet. His fingers touched nothing but a burning skin which brought him back from stolen memories to the cool shadow of a nearby mountain. But were those memories his, to begin with?

“Very well then, as they wish. If the monk is truly destined to go to the westlands and retrieve the sutras to save the sinners, so be it. The holy man needs only a guardian as pure-minded as himself. A wise protector. The real Monkey King.“ As he solidified himself, the stranger directed his last thought upwards, as if he had been daring the Heaven itself, not his unknowing rival,“Even if we started out as one, now, we are two and so only one can live while the other must go and let the vermin feast on his rotting body.“

After speaking his mind out, at last, the wildlife didn’t dare to move or talk anymore. The macaque’s petrifying stare turned everything into a stone. His malice and hatred didn’t know the limits.

Unable to sleep, the demon chose to approach Golden Wind. Quietly, he made his way through the sleeping unit of demons until he was standing by the main viper’s sleeping bag. A hairy foot stretched out and kicked dust into the snake’s head. Golden Wind Viper woke up immediately and hissed. After realising who was the one waking him up, his forked tongue softened,“Sir, aren’t you asleep? The day was rough on us. You should rest if you desire to fight Sun Wukong.“

“That I, indeed, plan on, viper. I simply wish to know a few things which have been bothering me terribly.“

“Those are?“

“When fighting him, what was he like? Did you notice a sort of a weak spot? Maybe a disability? Apart from his right leg being maybe a bit too crooked than what it should be.“

“How do you know about his leg? Didn’t you say you’ve seen him only from a great distance?“ Golden Wind’s tongue slipped from the sheer surprise. Palms, shaking and covered in sweat, grasped the blanket. Soon, he caught up and tried to sooth the eerie stranger,“No, sir. Just that leg, I guess. But I wouldn’t say it’s crooked or anything. It’s normal. Upright and healthy. Maybe too healthy.“ The gang leader scratched the bruises caused by the fight with Wukong.

“His left eye?“

The bald head with wrinkled brows shook again. “No, the scar doesn’t seem to affect him.“

“His style?“

“Perfection. The way he wields his staff is beyond magnificent. I bet my neck he’s just as brilliant in boxing.“

Macaque frowned. His squirming body threw a disturbing shadow. If he asked about the Tang monk and the two juniors, the circle would always remain the same. He didn’t show any more of his unsettlement, yet deep inside the demon was infuriated. How come that he, the master of whispers, can’t best his opponent despite his deep knowledge?

A tiny flash lit the gloomy inside of his skull. The soulless demon might know everything about the Pilgrims. Yet, he never focused on the young women accompanying them. He committed a terrible mistake for he never thought of them as another solid option.

“Viper,“ the hoarse voice bounced against the half-asleep rogue,“you experienced those women, didn’t you? Tell me more about them.“ The eerie macaque insidiously pointed at Golden Wind Viper’s disfigured cheek. Admittedly, the foreigner quite amused the hairy demon with her actions. She sure knew how to play around and what strings she ought to pull.

Golden Wind stiffened. Wrathful thunderbolts shot from the shallow eye sockets. “Whores, that is what they are, sir. The princess just cries and yowls, so there’s no worry about her causing much trouble. But her protector is a much bigger pain in the arse,“ the snake shouted and his fist came down crushing everything that was in the way. “No better than the dumb beak Shufen. You see, sir, she was the one who fled before the Immortals and established the kingdom. She may try to deceive with those pretty lashes but be aware, sir, as she’s in just for the power. She learnt from the best and she won’t let anyone be an obstacle to her ambition.“

A wise crane escaping the knowledge of Daoist secrets was a thing the macaque hardly expected. “She fled the enlightened life among the Immortals? I thought the Longevity Cranes are born and live on the top of Mount Kunlun.“

“Your knowledge’s flawless, sir,“ the viper, smiling from ear to ear, coyly ducked his head.

The demon thought to himself. Why would the demon queen then waste her time by coming all the way down here, to the Southern regions? There are many hideouts in the Northern part. For an escapee it’s more advantageous. Unless she took something she had to hide…

Soon, the crackling voice took him back to reality. “Good thing I got away, she paid miserably. Her nephew is the same breed as she is. To think he got the job of the Guard Captain makes me vomit on the spot,“ the snake mumbled.

“As a former captain, I suspect you must still maintain connections inside the palace.“

“Well, many of my boys are actually ex-soldiers or guards. But you’re right. I do keep a few aces up my sleeve,“ the bald demon laughed. “Let me tell you, there’s no more trustworthy ally than her.“

The name as well as the relationship between Golden Wind and his accomplice took the stranded demon by surprise. Still, the shock didn’t wash away his growing grin.

****

“Come on. Wake up already. We’re going to be late.“ Márgerdra quickly fixed her thick hair with a pin in front of the bronze mirror. She ignored the approaching footsteps from the hallway and hurried to the bedside.

“Monkey! Get up! The servants will be already here any second and if the Queen comes with them…“

To her dismay, Wukong didn’t answer her third and final call.

Márgerdra wanted to lightly push into Wukong, instead, she wrongly calculated the used force and ultimately pushed the body under the blanket out of the bed. The woman covered her mouth before she managed to let out a squeal. Rushing to the other side to help the monkey demon, her nose wrinkled.

There was no smelly body in ragged clothes, only a watermelon with a scribbled note.

The moment she picked it up, the sliding door behind her opened and a person entered.

“Morning, blondie. Hope you don’t mind me taking up the role of a delivery man,“ Wukong nonchalantly kicked the nearby carved chair so he could put down the package he was carrying. “This is yours, this is mine. Go behind that curtain, I can change here. What are you staring at? Go and change. We don’t have enough time to waste it.“

“Excuse me? I might have misunderstood. Are you scolding me?! Because I think it’s you who got up without telling me a single word! What if something happened to you? I’d be still here, waiting, aware of nothing.“ Márgerdra’s voice thrilled, her otherwise pale cheeks burnt bright red.

While she was yelling at him, Wukong drew another chair. In spite of the piece of furniture letting out an awful sound enough to rip an eardrum, it seemingly had no impact on the furious demoness.

Her companion munched on the peach from the pile of fruits on the low table, lazily slid down to sit on the wooden armchair, and inspected the black wear interlaced with silver threads and red selvage. His mouth twisted. Colours differed, yet the cut unpleasantly reminded him of the official’s uniform he used to wear once.

“Are you listening to me?!“ She yelled and slammed the table with her palm, the sudden noise made Wukong jump up.

Wukong threw both the hanfu and the pair of deer-skinned boots across the large room and rapidly stood up, snarling,“Of course, I am!“

“Then answer me!“

“Blondie,“ his eyes rolled to the back of his skull when he touched the bridge of his nose,“do you know what that thing in your hand is called? Alright, I can help. It’s a note. You usually write it down and leave it for someone to read later because you clearly couldn’t have a chat with them.“ Wukong’s clawed index pointed at Márgerdra's right hand. “Did you read it? Or were you still sleeping, tight and well?“

Márgerdra’s face reddened beyond recognition. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was already awake, preparing to pick up our clothes and to meet the Queen.“ She paused for a moment. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?“

“I doubt you’d be happy with my usual early morning routine. I get up much sooner than you. Though, I gotta admit you’re more active at night.“

She cast him a doubtful look which caused him to sigh and add,“Look, coming from experience, I know how harsh you can be when you don’t receive enough sleep. Don’t pretend you’re not. Shifu also wanted to have a word with me.“

“Is that all that's written there?“ She persisted and let the breeze of a pleasant citrus fragrance from the outer gardens play with the few strands which escaped her perfect knot.

“No. Why don’t you read it?“

“Why should I when you’re here? Speak.“

“Do I look like a peasant to you, Lady Wolf Witch?“

The pitch in his voice and the forced bow drove her insane. Her already sharp teeth elongated even more, her ears became pointy like Wukong’s and thick fur surrounded her eyes. The guffawing sun immediately hid behind the upcoming clouds and the room with admirable tapestries of cranes, tigers, phoenixes, bamboo groves and gigantic mountains swimming in the sea of mists fell into darkness. Any person with the right mind would have already fled the scene, leaving everything behind just to save their precious life. But not Wukong who didn’t flinch at all.

Never moving more than his lips, he muttered in a calm voice,“Is that all? Are you close to your monthly bleeding or what?“

If she hadn’t known him, Márgerdra would have already been throwing anything in sight after the Monkey King. After nearly two weeks, if not more, she was not only used to it, rather, it brought back some sense to the Wolf Witch. The same way she tamed him, he was beginning to tame her, as well. Strangely, she enjoyed such company as she was growing more aware of the fact that he was reliable as a companion, as an ally and as a close friend.

She brought her rubbing hands under her chin.

“Stupid me. Never a grown-up woman…“

“Stop it. You were the one to keep me down to earth. I’m just returning the favour,“ he lightly tapped her shoulder and offered a pile of new hanfu. “Take these and try them on. In the meantime, I’m going to inform Mei and Shifu. By the way, if they don’t suit you I’ll go and take another one. You’re about to meet Shufen or whatever her name is.“

Once Márgerdra got behind the curtain and started stripping off, Wukong changed the quickest he could and was prepared to march out. His trembling fingers didn’t manage to open the door in time as a whisper of the young woman stopped the Great Sage in his tracks. “Wukong, I know it sounds strange. But even if I had more time, it would be to no avail.“

“The note? You can’t read or what?“ His question was raised as a playful response but due to his nervousness of being in the presence of a naked woman it came off as derisive, the thing he soon regretted.

“No, I can’t.“

The last noise Márgerdra heard was the door shutting and Wukong’s brisk walk vanishing in the distance.

****

Servants took the two women down the spiralling staircase. Dry warmth of the palace turned into the humidity of the royal bathhouse. Although the majority of the complex was carved into the massive rock, the vibrant colours were ever-so present in the cold relief the same way they were in the main building. The most peculiar part which took them by surprise was the furniture made of massive pieces of gemstone. Jade, amethyst, fluorite, lapis and turquoise statues, tables, chairs, benches and even teapots flooded every part of the place appointed for the demon queen and her handmaidens. Lychee wine flowed through the place as much as did the scented water. Flowers in each corner brought the gloomy place to live. River pearls decorated both the furniture and hair of young demonesses. Elegance of shiny nacre was indescribable, the Wolf Witch couldn’t remember a single ruler keeping pieces finer than these. Ringing voices of the handmaidens elevated the increasingly pleasant atmosphere and so, the amazed foreigner let the mood get under her skin. Gradually, Mei got infected, hence once they finally reached the lowest floor, the largest and most detailed with masterful tapestries, astonishing blooming flowers, both were radiant as ever. Despite their beaming faces, which put any star on the night sky to shame, concern and worries bubbled under the surface.

“Ladies, I welcome you. A moment longer and I would have started doubting myself. However, my judgement is as good if not better than what Miss Yawen tried to convince me.“

“Her Majesty showed she’s far ahead of me once again. I should take this as a lesson for our future bets.“

Márgerdra shot her head to the side from where the familiar voices were coming out. There she was, the queen, the host, the beast.

Shufen was leaning over the edge of an enormous bronze bathtub underlaid with carved and painted timber. The demon queen had her eyes closed as she took another sip, then laid her head backwards to relax her muscles. Her right hand, Yawen, was inside with her mistress and taking care of her nails. Both demonesses were as mesmerising as they were dangerous. Every room in the bathhouse could have been loaded twice as much with the divine sculptures and sumptuous bouquets, and the Queen of the Jade Valley with the Handmaiden with Nightingale Voice would still outshine it all.

The princess and the protector obediently bowed. “Your Majesty, we’ve been looking forward to this meeting. Missing such a thing would be impudent, to put it lightly. Besides, only a fool would refuse a proper cleaning after days in the mountains inhabited by awful beasts and the companions they call pets. Apologies, as I nearly forgot to mention the demon bandits.“

“Aren’t you two half-human since you call those ‘awful beasts’?“ Shufen’s open eye gleamed under the raised brow.

“Does that make us less than half-demons? Plus, a desperate need requires a desperate solution, as our demonic mother liked to say.“

For a moment a bit too long, there was a deafening silence, only water plopped. Suddenly, both demonesses burst into laughter so heartfelt, the advisor with her princess had to simply join. “You,“ Shufen pointed at Márgerdra,“I didn’t think you’re funny. You surprised me. I like that.“ The crane demoness motioned for her servants, one of them hurried to her side with another cup of wine and bowl of fruits. She ordered them to give the women a spare loincloth while their robes were taken to the next room where the private possessions were stored.

As both were already quite used to the nudity, and the queen herself saw no problem for the sake of time-saving, Mei and Márgerdra stripped on the spot. The only part covered by a light fabric became their hips. Mei undoubtedly bloomed from day to day, perfect nape and smooth abdomen were proof of it. Yet Márgerdra had fully achieved her peak a long time ago and certainly had been holding onto it since. Her body was the embodiment of a firm but heavenly delicate statue blessed with breath and flesh. This gave an opportunity for waiting Yawen whose tongue had been tickling with bitterness for some time,“Foreigner!“

“Watch your tongue!“ Mei yelled out before she caught exasperated words behind her teeth. To save them before Yawen’s wrathful gaze, she added in a sweeter, yet still unyielding tone,“My beloved sister has a name that is equally lovely to yours.“

The snake woman straightened her spine, a preparation for a venomous spit,“Apologies, then, my dear. What are your names, so I won’t commit this heinous crime again?“

“Ah Xuiying and my elder sister’s Yaling.“

Shufen chuckled upon hearing the childish squabble,“I see the boldness runs in the family. How adorable.“ The ruler mumbled the names under her nose a few times before speaking out,“Your parents chose wisely, it suits you both, I admit.“

“We still cannot compete with Her Majesty,“ Márgerdra smiled and let Mei enter the bathtub first after she noticed the pitiful state of the princess’ body. The bottom was surprisingly lower than expected causing Mei to nearly slip. She managed to catch herself just in time, nonetheless, Márgerdra and, surprisingly, Shufen helped her to get seated.

More servants came and offered the guests more wine, fruits and sweets. An offer kind enough for them to accept, yet it took them a second to actually choose. There was discreet and hidden untrust behind Márgerdra’s eyes. Mei was no different and followed her companion’s manners. Only when Shufen and Yawen bit into their berries did they submit.

“Yaling,“ Yawen started for the second time,“I see you’re a rather extraordinary woman.“

“If you think so,“ Márgerdra light-heartedly chuckled and sipped from her cup. Her full chest heaved up and down, the blonde woman truly didn’t have a bit of shame written on her face.

“Miss Yawen is right,“ Shufen joined immediately,“I don’t remember anybody close to your beauty and I’ve seen many goddesses and fairies with my very own eyes.“

“There must be many jealous of you,“ Yawen hissed but quickly masked it with a pretended cough.

“My little sister is equally lovely, ladies. Give her some credit for the fact that we share the same ancestors.“

Mei choked on her wine from both the direction of their conversation and the strong beverage. The blush rose up to her round cheeks; if anybody noticed, she was glad to toss the fault on the steaming water.

Yawen had different intentions,“I bet you’ve had plenty of attention your whole life. Say, is your current husband the only one you’ve charmed so far?“

Mei stiffened, Shufen massaged her temples but let the hustle unfold for her amusement. The foreigner seemed to have a tongue as sharp as the monkey brother and Yawen was known for her cold mockery.

Márgerdra licked her dry lips. She slowly turned to Yawen and locked eyes with her.“My husband is the only one who sees me as his equal, not his personal pet. It’s true I’ve caught the eyes of many. You’re right that I take pride in my face and body. However, am I going to run around and offer myself? I fear that is where you’re wrong, dear. It is neither my will or the will of my husband. We have an immense respect for each other. What’s more, I don’t know much about the locals. There’s no reason for me to linger over the place. But maybe you can try it on your own, running around naked, then reporting to me whether I should try it out, darling. After all, a small exercise every morning is rather healthy, isn’t it?“

“Why so aggressive, dear? Did I offend you?“

“No, not at all. At least, not as much as the spitting you do when you talk while eating,“ Márgerdra motioned towards the grapes the young viper was holding. “I see etiquette is not your strongest side along with being tactful.“

The remark made Shufen laugh. She sensed the thickening atmosphere. Since she wanted the show to go on, she needed to step in for a small pause,“Oh, my, it’s true that birds of a feather flock together. But we don’t need it now, do we? We’ve all been through rough times. Let’s drink and celebrate.“

****

“What’s the matter, Wukong? You seem to be nervous.“ Sanzang grabbed the monkey’s shaking knee thus making the whole limb stop.

“It’s nothing. You know me. I can’t sit properly for a second. Always in motion, what should I add?“

“Is it because of the Queen taking our companions with herself?“

The Monkey King paused. Really, he couldn’t stop thinking about the shadow he saw creeping around the rooftop. The figure dashed through, making it hard for Wukong to recognise much, but he was sure it must have been one of the rogue snakes since there was too much of agile wiggling and smooth movements.“Precisely,“ he offered a compromise in a form of a half-lie,“the demoness seems to be confident in the power she wields. I don’t like her sleazy handmaiden either.“ He crossed his legs while he changed his opinion,“Actually, no. Both are sleazy.“

“Wukong! How dare you talk about our hosts with such impudence? While I am aware that both are demonesses who didn’t take much liking to us. Yet they offered us a roof above our heads, food to finally feed on and clean clothes. Not to mention Her Majesty cares about her people and wants the best for them.“

“Would you like me to have dinner prepared for just the two of you in a locked room? I’m interested in seeing how things will turn out without my intervention if I do.“

The straightforward question cooled down the monk. Sanzang gulped and stood up. The young master looked into the distance. Behind the open window, there was the disastrous view on the collapsed peak. Dull echoes of the cave, the horrors hidden deep within its never-ending corridors, the evil by the name of Golden Wind Viper was born there. He and his companions and maybe somebody else, too. An invisible tear fell down the man’s cheek. He always reminded Wukong to choose roads leading through forests and mountains. Not because of the Bodhisattva Guanyin, it was the monk’s will all alone. Now, he saw the results of his decision. The hatred towards the choices clenched his heart.

“Wukong, check on them. No violence, no picking up fights, no killing. Be as discreet as possible. If needed, get us out immediately.“

A great satisfaction reached the simian. He leapt out from his seat, his black robes whistled behind him,“Understood, Shifu. Ol’ Sha, take care of Shifu, please. I know I can count on you.“

“Yes, Big Brother Monkey,“ Wujing saluted, determination toughened his muscles and mind.

“Pig, get up, you’re going with me.“

“Why me? Can’t I rest here with Shifu and Sha Seng? Besides, I don't even know where those two are.“

“Brother,“ Friar Sand leaned over and carefully pulled the right strings,“they’re at the royal bathhouse with the Queen. You ought to help our senior since we are under the risk of lethal danger. I heard that all the handmaidens are allowed to visit the place to tend to their outer beauty.“

A piece of apple stuck in Bajie’s throat. He started violently coughing and spitting around. Images of the maids and servants he saw around made him swoon. Wujing caught his senior at the last second, though later the pig demon needed no further help when he ran up to the monkey, who was already standing by the door.

“On second thought, I haven’t exercised much lately. Plus, it’s for the greater good, right?“

****

Chatting about different matters such as the food being of high quality or the kingdom going through rough times, they managed to put the strife aside. Princess Mei managed to amaze Queen Shufen with her precise knowledge and recommendations. Her ideas about reparations and ways of saving finances or supplies and many more were both helpful and clever. “It would be better if your men chose to scout the Eastern side of the mountain. The terrain has been ruined by the collapsed mountain but thanks to it, more caves and potential hideouts could have been revealed. But back to the state of buildings. A new quarter should be built but this time, try to ask for rhombus holes in order to separate the smaller garbage and ensure smooth drainage. Later, I can ask my brothers-in-law to help me lay out an outline for more complex sewerage. Surely, your citizens won’t suffer from more diseases. But seeing your own ideas for an already smart decision made for a city surrounded by mountains, I can only applaud you, Your Majesty.“ Several other maids also joined in and brushed the hair of the four women while the lost princess continued. For a while, Márgerdra truly forgot about her worries, her past, her present and simply enjoyed herself the way she used to when she was still at the palace. She loved every moment a handmaiden came and oiled her skin, massaged the shoulders and palms. That was until…

“Your youngest brother-in-law doesn’t resemble his brothers in the least.“

“Indeed, Your Majesty.“

“What brought you to this topic, Your Majesty?“ Mei joined and took another bite from the papaya. Among the demonesses and with the help of the sweet wine, she was getting more confident as it showed in the change of her tone. She wasn’t even arching over any longer.

“Just a quick thought, nothing important. I noticed he is very handsome. Is he betrothed to someone?“

“Not that we know about it. Then again, he doesn’t speak much and likes to find company in poems,“ Mei tried her best, but her attempt attracted more attention.

Shufen’s white feathers ruffled up,“Meaning that he’s a man of delicate skills if he has the soul of a poet. Tell me, does he write as well?“

“No, Your Majesty. He only reads. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much time due to the family research before we met. You see, my husband appreciates a rational approach, not daydreaming.“ The witch jumped in before Mei unintentionally revealed something more.

“What a pity as I myself find an escape in the world of rhymes and the warm beauty of simple but powerful words. Dear, your fingernails look terrible, all the red painting is almost gone. Do you wish for it to be repaired?“

“If you don’t mind, Your Majesty, I’d love to,“ Márgerdra joyfully accepted the offer. Mei followed her soon.

Yawen’s high pitched voice reappeared,“For a woman of your delicacy you have a rather strange left wrist. It looks like it was crushed and sliced at the same time. A past injury?“ Soon, she added with another too wide smile,“Don’t worry, it’s barely visible. I only happen to be an observant person.“

Overwhelmed by horror, the witch recalled her recent incident with Golden Wind Viper using her own whip against her. “Exactly, Miss Yawen. I had an accident. Fortunately, my brother-in-law healed me just in time.“ The more she watched Yawen’s face, the bigger uneasiness was waking up in her. The handmaiden’s features were soft but surely elongated, the scales on her arms were green in colour, her nostrils thrilled everytime she exhaled. The witch had seen similar details somewhere. To recall more memories she needs more time and space, which she obviously has to buy. “My apologies, Your Majesty, I’m jumping from question to question. What was the topic of our discussion? Wasn’t it my youngest brother-in-law?“

“Indeed, Miss Yaling,“ Shufen answered before ordering another sort of wine to be brought. A maid came to her and whispered something in Shufen’s ear. The queen’s red lips twisted, but she kept her cool in front of the guests. “Unfortunately, because my time is almost up I must ask you directly. Would your brother-in-law like a private audition? I can recognise one’s wisdom through the silence, not the boasting. Since you mentioned him being keen on poetry, the two of us certainly have more in common.“ Shufen carefully got out of the bathtub, her light feet rang against the floor. Before the swarm of demonesses managed to escort their mistress outside, Márgerdra raised her voice in a question,“What exactly does Her Majesty need from me?“

“After an official audition where I’ll meet his three brothers, I want him to report for another one, later in the evening. Tell him not to be late as I favour punctuality. Yawen will inform him later in greater detail. Now, excuse me, ladies, I must tend to other affairs. Though I have thoroughly enjoyed the company of your lovely and well-spoken beings.“

Alongside Queen Shufen of the Jade Valley, every other person left the last section of the bathhouse until Márgerdra, Mei and Yawen were left alone.

Mei used it to let the wonders of the place carry her away. Quickly, she was brought back to reality by enmity between the other two women. Another round was about to begin and all she could do was to sigh and watch the bubbles on the surface.

****

Furry tail served him as an excellent helm. Wukong’s agile jumps and somersaults carried him across the roof until he reached the last segment. He sniffed and whispered,“This way, Bajie. He’s been here recently, the track’s still fresh. I wonder where those stairs lead to… Bajie? Bajie! What are you doing there, idiot?“

“It’s easy for you to say,“ the pig demon struggled for breath as several roof tiles broke and slid down under the weight of the pig’s bulky physique,“when all you eat is a handful of nuts and water a day. I’m built differently, I need more to keep my muscle mass.“ His sentence ended with a loud wheezing noise. “Weren’t we going to the bathhouse, anyway? To meet the lovely ladies from around.“

“For once in your life think with the stuff that’s in your head, not in your pants!“

“Stop snarling like a mad dog! That’s the witch’s job.“

“I’ll show you what a snarling dog can do once we’re done with the job,“ the monkey clawed onto Zhu Bajie’s ear till the blood flushed away. “Now get down and breathe through your nose, not your mouth. It’ll be easier for your heart to slow down and your inhales to become regular and slow.“ Carefully they climbed down and throughout their descent Wukong let the pig lean on him.

The smell of aromatic oils and herbal scents hit their noses. To Bajie it became the second Heaven, for Wukong, though, it was an obstacle in his tracking. His sight was just as sharp, yet he needed his nose to pinpoint the enemy from a safe distance.

As they were slowly going from room to room, they became amazed by the fantastic carvings. For a while, Wukong, in fact, considered borrowing one of the items as a nice souvenir for his monkeys at Mount Huaguo. The jade crane with gold claws and emerald eyes would make an excellent addition to his collection as well as the neighbouring bathtub heavy with vibrant gemstones.

“Bajie, do you think that feathered slut will notice if we take this as a souvenir?“ Wukong whispered without turning around. Green ornaments on a violet background mesmerised the imp.

Zhu Bajie wanted to warn his brother not to touch more items when he saw Wukong’s nail clink against a porcelain vase with an unknown steaming content but seeing how fascinated the monkey was, the junior decided to let his fellow be.

“Where are all the girls?“ Bajie, who was on the verge of tears, whimpered. Wukong, however, ignored him and continued scouring every corner, unaware that the enemy was right under his nose.

****

“As I mentioned earlier,“ the snake demoness broke the silence first,“Huang Wei is rather extraordinary. Despite not meeting the height standards, he does have a big mouth and muscles.“

“You don’t say, Miss Yawen. He’s been a lot of things to a lot of people.“

“Are you interested in what he’s to me?“

Mei coyly raised her hand to bail them out but Márgerdra adamantly continued in the debate. Whether it was because of her pride or curiosity, nobody shall ever know. “How much did you drink? I’m not sure you’re able to recognise the weight of your actions anymore, darling.“

“Miss Yaling, don’t doubt me. I wouldn’t last a day at court if it weren’t for my tough nails. Which brings me to an interesting topic. Does your beloved like jewellery? Apart from that earring, he’s got a nice headband. There’s a word that a certain simian wears it. His name should be Sun Wukong. Does it ring a bell?“

“Just slightly. Wei inherited it, a possession from a father to his eldest.“

“Truly? You swear? I could bet my neck that Sun Wukong is one of the Pilgrims fetching sutras from the West. The rest is a disgusting pig, a cowardly fishman and a dashing young monk whose flesh is a source of immortality…“

“Rubbish, Miss Yawen. I’m sorry for the vocabulary but there’s not another word on how to describe the nonsense coming out your mouth. Have you considered keeping it shut? Speech is silver but silence is gold. Please, take this as advice from a fellow friend,“ Márgerdra drew herself closer until she made Yawen visibly uncomfortable.

“And the demon stench coming from you? Did you truly seduce one of the Pilgrims? Or is there a different reason for your visage and smell?“

“We told the truth. We’re a group of researchers, we’ve been on a way to my parents and we’ve been ambushed by bandits. I thought of you as an educated and intelligent lady because only a wise one would realise that the Pilgrims are from a Buddhist sect, they’re monks. Or is it not prohibited for monks to maintain a relationship? Because then it’d be utmostly ridiculous for me and Ah Xuying to travel with them. Besides, from what I've gathered, the Tang monk rides a white dragon-horse. Did you see one when we arrived? “

Maybe it was the witch’s stubbornness, maybe her precise arguments and reserved approach which convinced Miss Yawen to abandon the idea of the monk settling down in the lair. The handmaiden shrugged. She still didn’t trust the foreigner nor the odd girl but the so-called husband surely piqued her interest.

Yawen offered Márgerdra and Mei a bowl of food and found more room for her to straighten out her legs. She still had quite some time before she returned to her duties. “Let’s say I believe you. But,“ her index created several circles in the scented water,“coming from own curiosity, where did Huang Wei learn such mesmerising techniques? I don’t want to suspect him anymore. Simply put, I’m quite a fan of martial arts and his face-off with the captain was magnificent.“

“He learnt from his father,“ Márgerdra wanted to shrug off the woman like an annoying fly.

“Would he like to perform for me?“

Mei and Márgerdra’s bulged eyes. “Excuse me, Miss Yawen?“

Yawen remained calm and simply added,“As Her Majesty’s right hand in many affairs, I can assure it’s a small test. It’s Her Majesty’s upcoming celebration and being similar to me, she too enjoys tournaments. Her champion is, naturally, the Guard Captain Jun. His opponent could be your beloved Huang Wei.“

Not hearing Márgerdra’s answer, Yawen put aside her cup. The snake demoness slid closer until their sides touched, cupped the blonde’s ear and sweetly whispered,“Look at it this way - you may earn a coin or two to finance your travels, Her Majesty will be pleased by the lovely present, I will get to see some thrilling action and those two can solve their initial confrontation. Everybody wins. Will you lend me your husband so I can privately talk to him about this offer?“

Mei held her breath. She knew Márgerdra and her calculating side well enough to recognise the moving wheels behind the stern look.

The wolf demoness bit her tongue. Her hands rose over the surface for the Wolf Witch to closely inspect them. Cracks and scratches which formed days ago vanished under the proper oil treatment. Her nails regained the fine red paint she liked to wear so much. Mei lost her dowry when their carriage collapsed and she’d looked like a pauper ever since. The snakes are never to be trusted. The meeting could lead Wukong to danger and potentially the monk to death. At the same time, she had to protect Mei first. Although, deep down, there was a little bit more to the enticement. The scents, the perfumes, jewellery, expensive fabrics, so much food the tables bursted at the seams, people taking care of her needs, taking away the filth from behind the witch’s claws. A coin or two meant a fortune in words of the elite. Is there really something to stop the witch from the right choice?

The tall woman frowned. Calmly, she put her hands under water. Only the nearby streaming fountain didn’t allow the silence to approach the three.

Finally, Márgerdra exhaled and turned to Yawen with a blazing gaze,“Get lost.“ The vigour of her standing body moved waters, which stirred up and created powerful waves. “Sister, we’re going.“

An unmistakable sharp noise of breaking glass interrupted them once Márgerdra stepped out of the bathtub. A thump so intense spread through the bathhouse it shook their very hearts and snatched their already shallow breaths away.

****

The smell was back, stronger than ever. Wukong pretended to rub his cheeks, puffy from exhaustion, while he waved in front of his face.

The embers in his eye sockets woke up, their low flame bit through everything in sight as the dusty spirals formed and whirled in front of him, then merged together like wild streams up in the mountain until a wide orange river flowed behind his back and upwards. Skin by his small nose wrinkled as Wukong’s lips pulled into a smirk.

The Monkey King continued in his act to play with the enemy like a cat with a sewer rat. Soles of his boots landed with a splash, the wet floor allowed little more than an awkward hobbling through the thick fog until the breeze from outside cascaded down the narrow stairs and cleared the humid rooms. The simian’s whole body tensed up in anticipation.

“Ergh, Big Bro-“ 

Pigsy’s grumble died when Wukong shoved him aside at the last second, otherwise the former commander’s shoulders ended up being penetrated with curved daggers. “Take those from the left, I’ll take care of the rest.“ Bajie shook, but he no longer felt the monkey’s heels digging into his stomach.

Silent swishing of the agile body and the monkey appeared high up on the gold-plated pillar, as if every ounce of him formed from the rising steam. With the rage of Thunder God, Wukong leapt out and upon reaching the next pillar he punched the snake’s back, taking away his breath in a mere second. Unfortunately, the rogue had his own ace up his sleeve. Although he couldn’t compete with the monkey in dexterity, the scaly creature was born with extraordinary reflexes.

Regardless of the failure to deliver a painful bite, the viper’s elongated neck still managed to capture the Great Sage. Looping around the monkey’s iron biceps, the spy pulled them both to the hard ground.

Wukong felt his spine snap but knowing how fast he can heal and that the fiends truly sneaked into the fortress brought him back to senses. He abandoned the thought of painful moaning and sent himself back into a fighting stance by flipping up like a carp.

The snake followed his movement, yet he didn’t match Wukong’s speed and explosive attacks. One by one, the ribs were crushed by close-ranged fists until no air was left in the lungs.

Watching their brother in arms losing to the wretched islander, seven more demons jumped out from their covers. Three of them were immediately stopped by a blunt force. Thanks to his massive bult, Pigsy pushed the smaller group back. One of the vipers howled and sobbed when a hoof fell onto his feet. The pig elbowed him right after crushing at least two of his toes.

“Disgusting swine! You’re gonna pay for this!“ Remaining demons jumped on Bajie who effortlessly threw them into the nearby wall. Quicker than a rabbit chased by hounds, they got up and a harsh fight between them and the hardened boar with glistening tusks began.

In the opposite corner, Wukong was deflecting his four opponents - Wukong crossed hands intercepted the tallest viper’s punch and simultaneously kicked back until he sent the snake behind him flying ten yards away.

“Dong! Grab him finally!“ one of the two fiends yelled out and he and the right hand Dong rushed out with stretched hands and backs arching like wild bulls.

They had him cornered, nevertheless the Monkey King jumped up and spinning around his axis he gracefully landed on his palms and tips of his toes.

In a flash, Sun Wukong swept the legs of both demons, gaining back the upper hand. He would have laughed on the spot at their incompetence, but the pain from the fall caught up to him and made him suck on their air as he held onto his back while panting. Soon, he realised it wasn’t a bad thing - down on the ground, tied to Dong’s side, was laying a tube. Wukong reached out for it and glanced over the content of the message.

“My dearest, loveliest sister,

I need your help. There should be a monk with immortal flesh hidden in the palace. Please, help me catch him by using your honeyed words, kind eyes and sharp wits. You’ve always been the clever one while I was there for the kicks and punches. Lure him out into the gardens by the next full moon which should happen in a span of few days. I know it���s a lot which I’m asking for especially when you’re always watched by that wretched goose Shufen. I don’t care when you say she still trusts you. Moreover, there are three monstrous disciples of the monk who guard him day and night. One of them is the cursed demon-butcher Sun Wukong. He’s extra suspicious of everything that moves and breathes. So please, take my advice and avoid him as much as possible, sister. There may also be a girl and a strange tall woman accompanying her. Don’t, I repeat, don’t trust them. I think the woman might be a demon like us. As I said, just lure the monk out and I’ll take care of the rest. I promise you that from then on we’ll truly live the life we wanted - rich and powerful. Also, don’t hurt him. I need him for someone I made a pact with. I’d say ‘don’t let me down’, but I know you won’t. You never do.

Your dearest twin brother…“

Before Wukong finished reading, a massive blow to his side threw the monkey into the opposite direction. He bounced against Bajie’s back and went limp for a moment. When he came back, he noticed two things - Dong approaching him wearing a furious expression and two masked vipers being buried beneath Bajie’s large belly.

Pigsy’s face reddened and the pig disciple shouted,“This was for the last time! I swear that next time I’m shoving my hoof up your…“ The raging Bajie didn’t finish his sentence. A pair of two perfectly shaped breasts stopped him in the middle of his tracks. Glancing lower, he gazed upon a wet loincloth all too thin to cover everything below. Bajie smiled widely, his ears quivered in delight. “You’re such a gift from Heaven, dear.“

“Idiot!!!“ Márgerdra, who was standing just outside the bathtub, shrieked til the ears bled and slapped the pig across his face. Her hit was fueled by pure fury. It mirrored in Bajie’s spat out tooth.

“What was that for? I didn’t see a thing,“ he cried out.

The witch grabbed him by the collar and with a strength of twenty men she pulled him closer. Her right eye was piercing the demon with icicles while the left one wanted to drown him in eerie sea depths. “I bet my head you did.“ She wanted to spit out more but an ominous sound from the next room got her attention.

Looking sideways, she saw how Dong grabbed Wukong by the throat and smashed the smaller demon several times against a thick column. When he was done, he tossed Wukong like a ragdoll. The Monkey King wasn’t that easy to defeat, though.

Impressing everyone present, the monkey stretched out his arms to hook around a column and spinning around he kicked the attacker under his chin. Márgerdra used the distracting blow delivered to Dong - she leapt out, overlapped  Dong’s lower chest with her leg and struck his calves. The impact of her attack, her body weight and the slipperiness of the floor made him fall to the ground. Screaming behind her, the witch began to choke the snake with her thighs,“Pig, get her out of here! Now!“

Bajie didn’t waste time, grabbed the princess and carried her in his arms away as quickly as possible. Another viper rushed after them but not only Mei’s infuriated face scared him, her punch left the spy with a swollen eye and three teeth less.

In the meantime, Dong at last escaped Márgerdra’s clench by twisting her ankle to the side. He would have bitten her too if Wukong didn’t pull her away. The monkey helped the witch to stand up. Thankfully, her injury wasn’t grave because she kicked Dong, who was back to his feet, to the stomach with the same leg. Pulling her closer to him, Wukong spinned them around. Márgerdra thought the Sage was about to deliver another powerful kick to the chest. To her surprise, Wukong yanked his head and from his ear, Ruyi Jingu Bang’s tip aimed right for Dong’s forehead. His skull colliding with the golden metal created an unpleasant thud.

The powerpole returned to its owner’s firm grasp immediately. It slowly slid down, its signature clinking marked a small break for the duo to catch their breaths.

Márgerdra raised her eyebrow upon looking at the unmoving snake demon. She spat at him, then turned to Wukong,“Is he dead?“

Wukong lightly tapped Dong’s calf with his foot. “Just knocked out.“

She nearly nodded to his response. Words lingered on the tip of her tongue when she noticed the warmth wrapping around her chest. Remembering she was still almost naked, she glanced down to see Wukong’s hand be tightly pressed against her breast. Hair on the back of her neck stood up at once and her eyes widened. “Wukong…“ The voice died in her throat.

Wukong turned his head, concerned,“What is it?“

She didn’t respond, but he followed her gaze, still not comprehending her uneasiness. Once he saw his palm clasping on her tender fresh, everything that he’d eaten that morning came back to his throat.

He recoiled, eyes bulged, voice trembled when he yelled out,“I’m sorry!“

Showing her his back, the monkey demon rubbed his hands as if he wanted to get rid of the worst dirt on earth. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. Truly! I’m telling the truth. I didn’t want to look, let alone touch you.“

“I trust you. Just toss me my clothes. It’s behind that curtain,“ Márgerdra reassured him, even though she herself was as red as a papaya. She waited for him to get her robes.

He did. What was more, he honestly held onto his promise and didn’t look at her once. Instead, he approached her by walking backwards with eyes sealed shut. Gently taking the fine silk, she stroked his hand. As by a miracle, the gesture calmed him down. Márgerdra recognised it in his shoulders, which came down with each breath. The wolf demoness wanted to add something.

Her intentions, however, were broken by Yawen’s annoying voice. She was rushing to them and she even tripped on the slippery floor. Despite the demoness preparing for a hard fall nothing occurred. Thick fur tickled her waist causing her to open her eyes and gaze into Wukong’s wild painted face. Miss Yawen used their sudden proximity to suck in his smell. The demoness was bewitched by his big dark eyes so much that her own brightened up,“Sir, you were magnificent. I’ve never seen someone so handsome, so dashing, so well-trained and determined!“

“And I’ve never seen someone so obnoxious,“ Wukong dropped Yawen upon hearing her high-pitched voice. Recalling the message on the floor he found inside Dong’s tube, Wukong didn’t bother with formalities,“Wife, we better go now. It’s not…“

As he was about to search the room for the letter, a sound of clinking armour and heavy boots hurried down the stairs and right to them. It was too late to retrieve anything, especially when Captain Jun looked Wukong up and down. “I see you’ve already taken care of this, Huang Wei.“

Wukong narrowed his eyes and hissed,“When it comes to my wife’s well-being, I think it should be a priority, Captain Jun. Now if you excuse us, I want to tend to my beloved. She has a frail heart and needs to rest after such a shock.“

Márgerdra and Wukong left the bathhouse together. The guards left shortly afterwards, heading for the prison with the captives, after securing the place and making sure Miss Yawen was well and safe.

Dong looked behind but he was met with little more than a freezing cold from the demoness. What his eyes didn’t see, though, was a letter she hid in the wide sleeve of her robes and a treacherous smile.

“A husband who wields a magical staff and refuses to touch his own wife. As if I were blind not to notice him quickly shoving the cudgel into his ear.“ The paper between her fingers rustled,“Maybe this will tell me more about our fine gentleman.“

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added): @vanessaroades-author @rubywrite @aohendo @rbbess110 @jgmartin @outpost51

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

List of chapters:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Epilogue

[flowersfallingdown]

we've been mutuals for a while, I'm gonna tell ya' some of my little men

Vrillon: resembles the flummoxing jumble guts from brutal orchestra but made of freezing black goo rather than purple goo and with at least eight long tentacles ending in three lobed “hands'', a prehistoric alien from a species called the Xrib who has been in stasis since the mesozoic and has been awake for about three centuries. Classic alien invader who plots to TAKE OVER THE WORLD via their black slime, which can assimulate humans into human ooze slave things that follow their every word and can themselves assimilate new members. The orb thing that serves as their head is the only hard part of their body and as such the only part of their body that can be attacked to any real degree, which is good because it is hollow and glasslike, easy to shatter. Weirdly capitalistic and businesslike, fond of formal language and corporate euphemisms. Lives in an equally ancient (and so very deteriorated) spaceship. If one of the ooze thralls exists for long enough they fuse with some other thralls (normally three) and pupate into a new Xrib. A meteor hit their ship about a century ago, ripping a chunk off which ended up bringing the freezing ooze to earth and, outside of its native environment, separate from its controller, and exposed to foreign elements, mutated into several different strains.

Hurroo: an overworked surgeon with many strange traits and idiosyncrasies. They live alone in a town in what was once suburbs as a mostly self-taught doctor. They have the classic femboy goatman appearance of a mostly humanoid body coated in white wool with a head that kinda looks like a cloud or something in shape with a set of short horns with their unique traits being that they look perpetually tired despite sleeping very well and, for some godforsaken reason, one of their legs is digitigrade, not even they know why it's like this. Their bed is square and has the blankets and pillows loosely tossed around at random. They get weirdly defensive about it because they do not want to admit that when they go to sleep they walk on all fours on their bed before curling up in a circle like a dog. Anyone who seeks treatment at their clinic has to sign a thing that allows them to experiment on their corpse if they die as in the hospital's basement experiments into necromancy, reanimation, and immortality. They have a shock baton for self defense.

Black goat: another one of the femboy goatman family of characters with the only real physical difference being coloration with their black wool, they live alone in the woods, mute, androgynous, very innocent and naive about the world because of their isolation from civilization. They have a little one room shack with a bed, fireplace, woodfire stove, a rusted rifle mounted above the fireplace they found in the woods and don't know how to use. They technically live in the lawless wasteland but as they are in the wilderness they haven’t noticed and no one has noticed the, which is good as they live near a city that has turned to madness and chaos, heretics, slavers, hedonists, and murderers all. They may-or-may-not have a direct blood relation to the black goat of the woods Shub-Niggurath. Their horns seem to be almost wooden.

The Gramophone head: a bizarre yet kindly man who lives in the same woods as the Black Goat and acts as an adopted parent almost. The gramophone head wears a thick brown coat, long beige pants, and large boots and gloves to hide the fact that they are a mutant plant creature puppeteering a human skeleton around and is named after the gramophone-like growth he has for a head. It is made of plant matter with five hexagonal horns that are fused at the rims connected by short yet shocky hollow tubes to a gourd-like noise chamber where the base of the neck would be, this organ and growth is how he speaks with roots coming out from under it into his ribcage, these roots wrapping around the bones and allowing them to control this body. They live in a more proper house where their skeletal frame used to live and actually know how to use a gun, an old revolver they found in the house when they moved in being their weapon of choice, and have defended the Black Goat from the Tree-Folk many times. They are really good at baking.

YOOO ALL OF THEM SOUND SO COOL ?!? I’m so sorry I responded to this late oh my god I love them all

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Gender things that contradict themselves in European Society

Just pointing out the mind numbing contradictions. I suppose one could also think about this and how people climb through this and come up with justifications for it. Contemporary society, BTW.

Meat==Man thing.

Pigs are supposedly (but not really ) pink.

Pink is woman's color said from the 1950's.

European gentile man eats meat from pig. Then what gender is he? Does meat > pink.

Does that explain why medium rare or rare beef==real man? Of course the justification is "raw"==more man, but ignore the pink?

What? But then vegetables are women in writing, except when oblong, then it's a man, except for gourds which are what gender according to Europeans? And mushrooms are often called manly, though they technically are neither animal or vegetable, so wouldn't that make them nonbinary especially considering they have thousands of genders, but this apparently does work in this gender system. But no one compares a man to a zucchini though it's long, oblong, and is technically in the same family a a gourd?

Yeah... kinda confusing here.

Then what are blue flowers? Why is fruit a woman? Is it the Eve thing? But sheep are feminine until a man eats them according to the Bible (also goats and dogs are considered evil in the Old and New Testament). Granted this isn't European standards, but often it was disciplined to misunderstood Bible references that later scholars who did not read Greek, Arabic, or Hebrew, like Thomas Aquinas misunderstood severely.

***

Dress==top attached to a skirt. This is woman and girl's wear.

Toga is super manly and part of the Greek system? (Frats)

A robe is not a dress when a man wears it? Vestments are also not a dress?

A mumu is a robe with print and color on it? But when print is on man's shirt it's called "Hawaiian" or "dress shirt"

When man wears nightgown, that's not a dress??

When a man wears a towel wrapped around his middle, that's not a skirt? When a man wears a robe that splits in the front that's not a dress. When a man wears a sheet and ties it around his hips, that's not a skirt, but a sarong. BTW, anything outside of mainstream Europe is calls it a skirt. A grass skirt from Hawai'i. There's mixed feeling about kilts. But when a woman wears these same exact things, definitely a skirt??

BTW, el vestido is masculine in Spanish.

la robe is dress in French.

I spent a long post on clothes already, pointing out lace, pink, heels, etc were in men's clothing originally. Pants is only men's wear because around Western Europe that tried to ban women from riding horses.

***

So according to White European standards, men can lift heavy things and women can't. Women are simply weaklings, you see, who never knew a hard day's graft.

So that means when washer women existed and nearly drowned from lifting water from rivers and wells, this was easy work compared to a man driving a plow.

So this means when the woman had to scrub the floors on her hands and knees this was not back breaking work.

This means the three witches in Shakespeare's Hamlet when they talk about a brew didn't have to haul several buckets of water and go trouncing in the woods because they were weaklings, you see.

This means when the washing up used to be done with urine, women weren't having a hard time at all.

When women were lifting hot cauldrons, and doing things like spinning threads day in and day out by a drop spindle, they weren't doing long and tedious work.

When women were carding wool by hand it wasn't a difficult thing to do.

When women had to wrangle the animals, milk a cow and care for children or give birth--you see, not difficult at all. Women are simply weaklings, don't you know it?

They aren't making lye soap which was caustic or bits of cheese or churning butter (Which is harder than it looks).

And when women were chopping off heads, you see, not that difficult.

See, women were always weak. Because real men's work was.. let's check, being a merchant selling things without being fined for doing so (See women's scolds), ruling the Kingdom, letting animals pull your plow, Trading, chasing prestige. Because according to this system, women are money grubbing, which is why you can't trust them with money, now can you and don't do any work at all and lounge all day completely serene, reading frippery novels that utterly pollute their brains.

For all time, women were clearly, clearly weaker than men. See, see the terfs are onto something. transporting a boiling kettle and trying to do ironing without electricity, lazy women who are clearly weak amirite? <sarcasm>

It's not oh, say women's work and labor were severely unvalued and then even more undervalued as electricity came along. See, everyone is white of stable means and income on 40K pound a year. Women must be physically weaker than men.

***

Deep voices are male, but the most celebrated male singing is falsetto.

So, high singing male is considered still a man in most cases without question.

Vox didn't do a video on Contralto female singers, though...

though this talent seems like it is more rare than a falsetto.

So... contradiction here too. Or sexism?

***

Some people try to gender fonts and that is totally odd to me. How it writing in a certain way "girly"? https://www.reddit.com/r/AskFeminists/comments/vmcman/why_do_only_young_girls_develop_the_bubbly/

People care very much how people write to a gender standard? But what about writing words on a page, without looking at the letters themselves make them "girly" scratching lines on a wall isn't gendered.

***

BTW, nature says that super men i.e. high testosterone are more likely to be gay? But Europeans like to say they are "girls"... in the stereotype.

[gensokyogarden]

The chamber was filled with a number of treasures. Some seemed to belong to the master of the palace while others had been gathered by the fairies. A glittering jeweled benkan sat upon a pedestal in the throne room's entryway. An ancient bow of some strange red wood. A purple sake gourd. Even the jeweled pagoda had been taken as treasure! Thankfully, Nazrin had failed to notice that final one, which sat precariously close to the ongoing battle. Otherwise she'd be obligated to rush into the danger to rescue her partner's tool.

"Gotcha!"

Her voice cried out with excitement as she hopped over the throne itself. As Nazrin did so she hooked her still functional dowsing rod around the scepter. It flipped along with her as she landed on her feet and kept running towards the door on the opposite side of the room. As much as she wanted more of the treasure this was a dangerous battle to be close to. Best to have a way out before they tried gathering everything else up. A way out that didn't require them to run back towards Nemuno.

When she reached the room's other exit, Nazrin's hand immediately shot for the handle. She yanked the door back with all of her strength but it did not move an inch. Locked and heavy, great! This is exactly why reaching it was her first priority. She glanced back towards Hebi while reaching for her dowsing rod.

"I'm going to get this open. Gather up at much treasure as you can but don't take any unnecessary risks."

From her belt she produced a set of tools that, in conjunction with her dowsing rod, could act as a youkai doorcracker kit. Ancient youkai had plenty good security but they'd also never heard of the great Nazrin. Shouldn't be too hard to get through it. A few minutes tops.

"There's a time for anything. Even strange duos."

He kept his voice down as Nazrin got this all set up. He had already gotten himself ready before she had laid a hand on the mechanism. There was no need to do anything but keep his muscles primed and ready for whatever was to come. He didn't waste any further breath either. Just taking a long, deep one as she pressed the button.

Charging out behind her he'd make his way into the hectic battlefield. Bullets flied across the throne room as stray shots. He didn't stare up to spy the fight going on right now, like what Nazrin thinks it would be a waste to get involved. Not with treasure in sight of them! He also felt a sort of familiar overwhelming. A sort of power he instinctively recognized as nothing but utter trouble to have to deal with. Luckily he didn't even make a sound while running into here.

He dodges past a tipped piece of Danmaku. Something to represent an arrow no doubt. The shrapnel from the shot was avoided by him continuing to commit to a sprint. His eyes focused on not only the situation around him and Nazrin but also the surrounding room. At the least he could try to spy any other treasures laying here aside from the scepter. Hopefully something he can easily grab for himself.

[shyujikl]

The Best Tobacco Pipes You Can Buy In 2022

How to find the best tobacco pipes 2022? Tobacco pipes have been around since the early 1600s and are still popular today. The reason people still smoke out of tobacco pipes is simple. Tobacco pipes provide a better smoking experience. A tobacco pipe can provide more satisfaction for your senses than a cigar or cigarette can, especially if you're a new smoker. with so many tobacco pipes available on the market, it is hard to know which one will fit your needs best. the quality of some pipe is simply better than the others. A pipe is one of the most economical and civilized forms of smoking. From its humble beginnings to the pipes used today, the history behind tobacco pipes is as old as tobacco itself. The feel, smell, and taste of a well-crafted pipe will enhance any smoking experience. If you are looking to smoke premium tobacco, and are willing to invest more in a good pipe, then this article will help you find best tobacco pipes 2021 There are many brands of tobacco pipes to choose from, but here are a few of our favorites. Savinelli Tobacco Pipes: The Savinelli tobacco pipe company was founded in 1876 by Achille Savinelli, and they are still one of the best Italian pipe makers today. Their briar wood pipes are known for their durability, high quality and great smoking experience. L'Anatra: L'Anatra is another great Italian brand that specializes in handcrafted briar wood pipes. These are some of the most beautiful pipes you'll see! They have a wide variety of shapes and styles to choose from with prices ranging from $30-$300+. Dunhill Tobacco Pipes: Dunhill is another long-time manufacturer of high quality tobacco pipes. They produce both briar wood pipes (like Savinelli) as well as acrylic/plastic ones which are less expensive but still provide an excellent smoking experience. MUXIANG Tobacco Pipes：Muxiang Smoking Pipe is a manufacturer specializing in the manufacture of briar wood pipes, with more than ten years of experience in manufacturing smoking pipes, specializing in the production of sandblasted pipes, carved pipes, flamed pipes and hand-made pipes.main markets include Europe (including Germany), America (including America), Southeast Asia (including Japan) and so on.Their Briar pipes are a popular choice for smokers because of their high quality and value for money. Muxiang Briar Pipe Muxiang Briar Wood Pipe is made of high quality briar wood, which makes it more durable and beautiful. It comes with a metal filter on the mouthpiece, which allows you to enjoy a smooth smoking experience. Features: Made of high quality briar wood material, durable and beautiful Metal filter on the mouthpiece for smoother smoking experience The briar wood used in these pipes is sourced from the Italy and all pipes are hand finished with beeswax and sanded to a smooth finish. The Muxiang briar wood pipe is available in three different shapes: Billiard, Bent Billiard and Dublin. The Billiard shape has a straight stem while the Bent Billiard has an angled stem and the Dublin has both an angled stem and tapered bowl. Briarwood Sherlock Holmes Gourd Pipe This Sherlock Holmes Gourd Pipe is an elegant, yet simple, pipe that will make you feel like a true detective. With its classic design and long stem, this Sherlock Holmes pipe is perfect for any gentleman who wants to take his time with his tobacco. This Sherlock pipe features a deep bowl for easy packing and smoking. and has a bent stem for easy smoking and to prevent you from burning your fingers. This briarwood Sherlock Holmes Gourd Pipe comes with a gift box for easy storage and travel. This high quality briar wood pipe is sure to last a lifetime with proper care and maintenance. Peterson of Dublin Sherlock Holmes Tobacco Pipe The Peterson of Dublin Sherlock Holmes Tobacco Pipe is a unique product that comes with a deep history. This pipe was made to commemorate Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous character Sherlock Holmes and his pipe smoking addiction. The Peterson pipe has been around for over 145 years, making it a very popular brand among tobacco smokers. The Peterson of Dublin Sherlock Holmes Tobacco Pipe is a great gift idea for anyone who has an appreciation for all things Sherlock Holmes. The pipe is handcrafted from briar wood, which is a very hardy and durable material. The bowl of this pipe offers plenty of space for packing your favorite tobacco blend into it. You can purchase this pipe in either black or red finishes; each one features the Sherlock Holmes logo on its stem and shank, as well as an intricate carving of the famous detective himself! Poul Winslow 'Senior' Tobacco Pipe One of the most popular pieces of Danish modern design is the Poul Winslow pipe, a Danish designer and architect who collaborated with Georg Jensen to design his signature "Danish Modern" furniture. The pipe has a stunning marble bowl, which is very rare for an old pipe like this one. It is beautifully crafted and in excellent condition. The stem matches the marble perfectly. This is one of the most beautiful pipes we have ever seen! The pipe is in excellent condition for its age; there are no cracks or damage to be found anywhere on the pipe (it does have some slight tooth marks on the rim of the bowl). The stem may have been slightly reamed at some point in its life but it's still perfectly serviceable and comfortable to hold -- it has a slight bend towards the shank side that makes it easy to clench between your teeth. Chacom Corsica Tobacco Pipe The Chacom Corsica Tobacco Pipe is a medium sized pipe with a smooth, curved stem. The bowl is made from meerschaum, a mineral that has been mined in Turkey for centuries. Meerschaum pipes are becoming increasingly popular and the Corsica is one of the best selling models. It can be used to smoke any type of tobacco, but works especially well with aromatics and cherry flavored tobaccos. Chacom has been making pipes since 1825 in Saint Claude, France and they have been using meerschaum for their pipes since 1856. Today Chacom makes over 20 different types of pipes, including the Corsica which was introduced in 1999 as part of their 'Collection 2000' line of premium quality products. The Chacom Corsica Tobacco Pipe features an attractive brown stain over white enamel that covers both sides of the bowl as well as part of the stem. The stain provides contrast against the white background while also providing a protective coating against heat damage when smoking your favorite pipe tobacco or fine cigarillos. The Corsica's curved stem provides an ergonomic feel that feels comfortable in your hand while providing enough resistance so that it won't Missouri Meerschaum Great Dane Tobacco Smoking Pipe The Missouri Meerschaum Great Dane has a very popular and classic look that many people love. It's a bent pipe, which means it has a downward slant to the stem. The stem of this pipe is made from black vulcanite, which is a type of soft rubber. It's comfortable to hold and easy on your teeth, which makes it perfect for beginners or anyone who just wants to smoke without worrying about their teeth getting damaged. The bowl of the Missouri Meerschaum Great Dane Tobacco Smoking Pipe is made out of corn cob and fits nicely in the palm of your hand. This makes it great for outdoor use when you want to enjoy a relaxing smoke on those nice days when you get some free time outside. There are no sharp edges around the bowl either, so there won't be any risk of breaking your skin while smoking with this pipe! The bowl also comes with an air hole at the bottom, so there's no need to worry about having trouble drawing smoke into your mouth while using this tobacco pipe! All you have to do is put some tobacco inside and light up! The best selling pipe is the Muxiang Briar Pipe. The reason it's so popular is because it's a good quality pipe that's priced right. The Muxiang Briar Pipe is made of briar wood and has a removable filter. It has a simple design that's easy to hold and use. Briar wood comes from the root burl of the heath tree and it's hardy enough to be carved without being damaged. It also provides an excellent smoking experience with its natural oils and acids that help to neutralize tars and nicotine during the smoking process. The construction of this pipe is solid, which means you won't have any issues with your smoke getting through it or having it fall apart after repeated use. This makes it ideal for anyone who wants to enjoy their tobacco without worrying about having their pipe break down on them in the middle of a session or while they're traveling around town with friends who are also smokers! Choosing a tobacco pipe for the first time in your life can be fraught with difficulty, as there are many different types and you have no idea which one is the best choice. There are many different properties that you should look for when you are looking for the best tobacco pipe in order to make your experience more enjoyable and to ensure that you are making the right choice for yourself. You could ask around your friends to see what they have experienced with tobacco pipes, or if you want to look at online reviews , there are plenty of them out there. If you see a 2022 better tobacco pipe, or if you feel there is a better place to buy tobacco pipes than on our list, please let us know in advance so that we can do our best to investigate and modify this guide. We hope that our reviews and information will help you in making the best decisions. Read the full article