#imagine nightmare looting a village

[feathersea]

Pov: he just saw you run away from a village he was ransacking

Ps: Killer's about to pounce on you

In this AU he's rides a Night Fury, and he turned to crime after some interesting events I'm cooking up. Giggling.

Also, I can't do colour, so I tried some black and white stuff for the funzies.

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

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People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.

In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.

Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.

You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.

Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.

Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.

Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.

A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.

We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.

As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.

Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.

Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.

Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.

The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.

Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.

The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.

Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.

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[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[ask-sibverse]

So what is Swad's process as the mask fully breaks as Swan is healing?

I mean, the mask was already breaking pretty damn bad when Reader last saw him.

The emotional energy collector/storage device broke. You guessed it probably hadn't been meant to be used daily, or for as much energy as it was taking in. (Nightmare was needing a loot to recover.) Which meant you had to go back to that positive AU for parts.

Dream had already found you there once. The smart thing would be to bring backup this time. And while you felt you were probably a pretty intelligent person, you decided against this. Why? Well for one thing, fighting Dream in an AU where he would be strongest would be pretty fuckibg stupid. But also... Call you soft hearted and naive, but. You just had a feeling that if you saw Dream right now, he wouldn't attack.

And as luck would have it, Dream did appear. He... Didn't look like he'd really slept or done much of anything for looking after himself.

"Did you tell Nightmare my request?"

"I did."

"And?" He looked at you, impatient.

"And he's thinking on it. You didn't give much to convince either of us that it wouldn't be a trap."

"I would never!" He huffed, seeming a bit insulted.

You stared him down. "Not counting recently almost killing Nightmare, you also kidnapped us both and almost killed us back then as well."

"... Fair point." He looked away, but stayed put for some reason.

You sighed. "What else do you want?"

Dream froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. "I didn't say I-"

"You're hanging around despite me answering your question. What else are you here for?"

He hesitated. "Can we... Talk?"

"About what?"

"About... How you and Nightmare see things? Why people are on your side?"

You sighed. It probably wouldn't hurt to have that sort of conversation, since Dream seemed open to listening. "Sure. But not here, Im too isolated in case of an emergency."

"I cant access negative AUs, remember?"

"I know. There are neutral AUs on Nightmare's side. Have you ever heard of Outertale?"

-----

You stepped through the portal with Dream close behind. You'd angled the portal to take you both out to a lone asteroid *far* from any people. You couldn't have Dream's aura effecting anyone here, intentionally or not. Still, the look of awe on Dream's face told you this was probably the first Outertale he'd ever visited.

"So many stars..."

"Well yeah. In this AU the monsters are trapped in the asteroid belt instead of underground."

"But its not positive. Why? They can see the stars, don't all monsters want that?"

"They're still trapped, and even more isolated here."

"Still, why be negative? Negativity only hurts."

You turned to face him. "You wanted to know why Nightmare and I act the way we do? First off, because *that* way of thinking is both untrue and very harmful."

He took a step back, startled. "I-"

You stared him down. "You don't get it, do you? You took the way the villagers acted, the way they treated you both, as truth. Negativity is both important *and* helpful. We grieve because we loved. We are angry because we hurt. Guilt, shame, both are important for beginning to guide our *morality.*"

"I-"

You didn't let him finish. "But its *so* much easier to avoid what you don't like. Its *so* much easier to reject pain and live a blissful life, than to accept reality. Without negativity, without feeling anything "wrong" why change? Why move forward and try to improve? Why be a better person or make a better world?"

"Positivity is... A lie?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course that's what you focus on. Positivity is not a lie, but the eternal happiness your aura creates certainly creates a false reality. One where people never feel guilt when they hurt each other, like you. One where people never change, never grow. A hell gilded in gold."

He winced, looking away. "I have... Some things to consider."

"I imagine you do."

"Can... Can I stay here with you for a while? I don't want to be alone."

"Why don't you go be around your followers then?"

"I can't let them see me like this."

You sighed. "Fine, but I cant take too long. I still need to take care of some things for Nightmare."

You both sat on the ground near each other. "Nightmare is... Lucky to have you, I think."

"Oh? What happened to him "only needing you?""

"I... Hurt him. I have to admit that I... Probably am not the best for him." It looked like it caused him physical pain to admit it though.

"Good. You're learning."

He winced. "Do I get any sympathy at all from you?"

"Nope. You've got to earn that."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, you scrolling social media whole Dream presumably was deep in thought. At least, until he suddenly slumped into your lap. He seemed to have fallen asleep... Well shit. So much for "don't take too long."

[irunevenus]

Ivan the Terrible: The Tsar Who Drenched Russia in Blood and Terror

Ivan IV, better known as Ivan the Terrible (1530–1584), was the first Tsar of Russia and one of the most controversial and feared rulers in history. His reign, which lasted from 1547 until his death, was marked by a combination of ambitious reforms and unprecedented brutality. Ivan IV transformed the Grand Duchy of Moscow into a centralized and expanded empire, while plunging the country into a reign of terror, marked by massacres, torture, and cruelty. In this article, we explore both the reformist side and the horrors committed by one of the darkest leaders in Russian history.

Rise to Power and Early Reign

Ivan was born in 1530, the heir to Grand Prince Vasili III of Moscow, and Elena Glinskaya. His childhood was traumatic: he lost his father at the age of three, and his mother, who acted as regent, died when he was only eight years old, possibly poisoned. During his youth, Ivan witnessed power struggles between the boyars, the Russian nobility, and was often mistreated and neglected.

In 1547, at the age of 16, Ivan IV was crowned as the first Tsar of Russia, adopting the title of “Tsar” to assert his authority as an absolute ruler, inspired by the Byzantine concept of autocracy. In the early years of his reign, he sought to modernize the government and the Russian military. He implemented reforms in the justice system, founded the Zemsky Sobor (a sort of advisory parliament), and reorganized the army, creating Russia’s first standing professional military unit.

However, Ivan's promising reign was soon overshadowed by a deep psychological decline that turned his governance into a nightmare of cruelty and repression.

The Turn to Tyranny

In 1560, the death of his beloved first wife, Anastasia Romanovna, marked the beginning of a profound transformation in Ivan. He suspected that the boyars had poisoned Anastasia, and this paranoia grew over the years. Ivan began to believe that conspiracies were everywhere, aiming to overthrow him. This paranoia led him to unleash a reign of terror against his own subjects, especially the nobility.

In 1564, Ivan temporarily abdicated the throne, claiming that the boyars were undermining him. The terrified population begged for his return. Ivan agreed, but only on the condition that he be granted absolute power and the right to punish his enemies without restriction. Thus, he created the Oprichnina, a personal police force known for its brutality, which acted as the arm of his paranoia and tyranny.

The Atrocities of the Oprichnina

The Oprichnina was Ivan’s tool for crushing any dissent, real or imagined. These men, known for wearing black robes and riding black horses, terrorized cities and villages across Russia. They were infamous for extorting, torturing, and executing both nobles and peasants who opposed the Tsar. Executions were often accompanied by sadistic torture, such as dismemberment, impalement, and mutilation.

The most notorious event of the Oprichnina was the Massacre of Novgorod in 1570. Convinced that the city was plotting to break away from his empire, Ivan ordered the destruction of Novgorod. Thousands of inhabitants, including women and children, were tortured and killed. According to chroniclers of the time, Ivan and his oprichniki murdered indiscriminately, completely destroying the city and looting its wealth.

It is estimated that up to 60,000 people were killed in Novgorod. This massacre became one of the most violent and bloodiest episodes in Russian history, cementing Ivan’s reputation as a merciless tyrant.

The Murder of His Own Son

Among the most tragic and symbolic episodes of Ivan’s cruelty was the murder of his own son, Ivan Ivanovich. In 1581, during a heated argument, the Tsar struck his eldest son and heir with his staff, hitting him on the head with such force that it killed him. This act of violence was motivated by a dispute over how Ivan's pregnant daughter-in-law had been treated, as Ivan believed she was improperly dressed.

The murder of Ivan Ivanovich devastated the Tsar, who reportedly deeply regretted his action, plunging him into an even deeper depression. The death of his heir also plunged Russia into a dynastic crisis, as Ivan’s surviving son, Fyodor I, was mentally incapacitated and incapable of ruling.

The Legacy of Ivan the Terrible

Ivan IV died in 1584 after a reign of nearly four decades, leaving Russia in a state of deep disorder. His death marked the end of an era of violence but also of territorial expansion. During his reign, he led successful military campaigns, annexing vast areas to the east, including the Khanates of Kazan and Astrakhan, expanding Russia’s borders into Siberia.

Despite his territorial successes, Ivan the Terrible is primarily remembered for his legacy of terror. His reign of indiscriminate brutality, the creation of the Oprichnina, and his relentless paranoia left Russia devastated and in a state of chronic distrust between its leaders and the people. He paved the way for the Time of Troubles (“Smuta”), an era of chaos and civil war that followed his death, as the Rurik dynasty collapsed.

Ivan’s violence resonates to this day in Russian culture, where he is seen ambiguously: both as an autocratic builder of the Russian state and as a symbol of tyranny. Ivan’s image, as both a national hero and a ruthless despot, reflects the complex history of Russia and its relationship with authoritarian power.

[renatogpadilla]

FFVI as a D&D Campaign:

OK, so I've been watching "Critical Role" (Campaign 1, Episode 31, no spoilers!) a LOT lately and it got me thinking how FFVI (arguably the BEST "Final Fantasy" game out there) is essentialy that. The biggest moments could be atributted to CRAZY rolls! I can see each of the characters being played by one of the people at the table! * Marisha as Terra Branford: Would be phenomenal. Her mentality is kinda in-line with Keyleth's. The "Kill Their Own Emotions" moment in the boat shakes the table as a whole. And when it's time to run an orphanage and protect her kids from Humbaba, the emotion in her voice destroys everyone in the Party. The "Mama?" moment becomes the most fan-arted moment for her character until the final fight. Her Trance ability is agreed to be the coolest looking skill at the table. To say nothing of the way she'd react to the whole Slave Crown bussiness!

Matt: "She killed 50 imperial soldiers in a few minutes." Marisha, and the whole table: *S H A K I N G*

* Taliesin as Locke Cole: "Treasure Hunter!" every single time somebody calls him a thief or a rogue. The "Rachel" story would be absolutely heartbreaking with Taliesin's expressions. The solo-sneak through the town while meeting Celes would be one of the highlights of the Campaign... That and his frienship with Terra would only be accentuated by Taliesin's and Marisha's irl friendship. Not to mention him puking on the ship would serve as some comedic timing straight out of "Critical Role"! Also, "That bow looks good on you" LAUNCHES the ship to heights undreamt of.

* Sam as Edgar Figaro: I mean, COME ON! IT WRITES ITSELF! Besides, it would be enjoyable to see him use his -Artificer- Machinist abilities as creatively as he does! Can you IMAGINE him rolling high enough one day and then he just creates the Noiseblaster? And with that he pulls out the microphone every time he uses it and proceeds to shout some thing Scanlan would be proud of... Not to mention his friendship with Sabin would be amazing if played by Sam! "The little shrimp has become a mighty Lobster!" You can HEAR Sam Riegel's voice come out of that! And the two headed coin? Now THAT's a Scanlan! This without mentioning the violations of the Geneva Convention that the Bioblaster would certainly entail...

* Laura as Celes Chere: I mean, OBVIOUSLY. Meeting Locke in the dungeon? The apparent betrayal? THE OPERA HOUSE?! "I'm a former General, not some... Opera floozy!" TELL ME you don't hear Laura Bailey saying that! And then she rolls a Natural 20 on performance and EVERYONE looses their shit! Her Runic ability is the target of MANY close saves. Also, the way Locke and Celes' interactions happen, she'd be perfect opposite Taliesin. The chat on the bridge in Albrook? HEARTSTOPPING. The attempted suicide? You KNOW Matt would call the sesion there!

* Travis as Sabin Figaro: This one was obvious. Monk/Barb that gets mistaken for a bear, and acts like an absolute teddy bear around Terra? Yes. Gods above, YES. "You think a tiny thing like the end of the world was going to be enough to keep me down?" You heard Grog too, right? The moments would be worth MILLIONS. The Opera house and Travis going "Why is everyone singing?" and then getting more and more into it! Him holding up the house for Celes! "MISTER THOU"... But best of all, and probably the single most famous Sabin moment EVER, The Phantom Train:

Matt: The train tracks suddenly lurch to the side. Even after this long and hard-fought battle it seems *chukles* it seems this train isn't letting you get away with your lives. That brings us to you, Travis! Travis, on his 5000 IQ shit: I grapple the train.

Entire Table: ARE YOU FUCKING NUTS?!?!

Matt: No way in hell are you gonna- You know what? Roll for it. *Picks up dice for the Train* Taliesin: He's dead. He's so fucking dea-

Travis: NATURAL 20.

Entire Table: *Silent disbelief, everyone looks at Matt*.

Matt: *Also in disbelief* ...Rolled a 1.

Entire Table: *Inintelligeble gasping and hyperventilating*

Travis: I'm going to use my last Blitz as Meteor Strike and suplex the Train!

Matt: *Looking at the sheet, knowing damn well what's about to happen* Go ahead and roll for damage...

Travis: *Rolls for damage*

Matt: *Braces for impact* How do you wanna do this?

Entire Table and the Internet: *EXPLODES*

The Fanart keeps coming, even YEARS after the Campaign is done...

* Liam as Setzer Gabbiani: Since he's LITERALY "Mister Steal Your Girl", I think Liam would be PERFECT. Just imagine him getting set up as this suave and smooth rougue who wanted to kidnap a beautiful singer and then gets Laura instead! (Which isn't entirely wrong...) IMAGINE his expresions and his dissapearing under the table laughing as the others barely climb aboard The Blackjack. THE ENTIRE PARTY giving him shit for a low roll on a Wisdom Check (the double-headed coin) and him segwaying that into joining the party, only to find out that he actually knew all along... Priceless. The total and undistilled heartbreak as his ship falls apart, him trying to reach out for Terra and everyone falling on different places. And then meeting Celes a year later and doing the whole Daryll story... Liam would be the one to steal the audience every time he takes the spotlight! Though he would be a little like Percy in the sense that he doesn't get much to do until his arc happens.

"Money, Money, Money!" every time he throws coins to attack, the loaded dice (in character, not at the table?) and the card throws would make him so stylish in a D&D setting I'll be surprised if somebody hasn't done it already.

* Ashley as Relm Arrowny: She takes forever to join because of her constantly being away for filming, but once she's here? HOO BOY, does the fun keep coming! Her paintings coming alive and helping them fight? Her giving Sam shit for Edgar's love life? "Fuddy-Duddy!" becoming A Thing? All of those moments would be hilarious... But probably her most notorious moment comes when they find her a year later, serving a posessed brush, telling her to paint, paint, paint under the Magic House... "Keep painting until I'm complete..." The party snaps her out of it before she finishes the greatest painting she's ever done, her Magnum Opus, and then the painting coming alive prematurely in order to force her to finish... To give her form. And then the Lakshmi boss fight happens... Matt: And with the last of her strength gone, the banshee-like apparition dissipates into mist, and before any of you can react, Relm's magic brush begins to glow, like it had when you first came in here. The glow slowly creeps off the hairs and darts! Off towards the mistified form of it's mistress, enveloping itself into a thicc layer on top of the mist, swirling around... and around and around.

Ashley: Oh god, now what?

Matt: The colors dissipate, and Lakshmi unleashes a terrible wail! *DM monster noises* As it is now joined with this colorful cloud... And it compresses, smaller and smaller... And more solid until it's not mist anymore.

Marisha: *Gets it* ¡WAIT A MINUTE!

Travis: *Exited* ¡OH SHIT, HOLD ON!

Matt: The fog dissipates... And the calm returns to Relm's senses. Ashley you are now holding an innert, ordinary paint brush. However! Floating in the air, you see a crystal with a small glowing core, the particular essence of Life embeded in the middle, Terra you *points at Marisha* feel this and recognize it instantly, as it falls to the ground, and bounces a couple times... A brand new shard of Magicite.

Party: *FERAL LOOTING*

"Lakshmi" becomes the most PAINFUL fanart to make, and it's ALWAYS the one that's valued the most among the fandom.

The rest of the Party (Strago, Umaro, Mog, Cyan, Gau and GoGo) can be the guests that come over every once in a while (I particualrly see Wil Wheaton as Strago Magus, Mary McGlynn as GoGo and Will Friedle as Clyde "Shadow" Arrowny) with Shadow coming and going with the excuse that "His contract is up" (and let's face it, after surviving/witnessing the Phantom Train? My contract would be up too...) and coming back whenever his schedule/the plot allows. Eventually, everyone comes together for one last session and the battle with God Kefka. Setting their affairs in order, the reveal of who Shadow really is during a lone chat with Strago shakes the Critters to their core. Everything makes sense! Why Interceptor went straight to Relm when they met... Why his nightmares kept showing a village of magic users, yet they never mention Shadow in Thamasa! The group is RATTLED and wether or not he survives at the end becomes a HEATED argument between everyone at the table. Only Strago knows the truth...

The sendoff on The Falcon with everyone saying goodbye and seeing what the World will bring next is regarded as one of the most emotional scenes in "Critical Role" history... But the most completely DESTRUCTIVE force in this entire cast is Matt Mercer as Kefka Palazzo:

The personality... the narrative... The absolute slime in his voice when he poisons Doma. When he kills Leo and brings forth the Light of Judgement. Matt definitely has his moments playing Ultros. He's fun! And Emperor Ghestal was more of a political "Darth Sidious" villain. But Kefka? OH, LORD. NOBODY was ready for Kefka. "Enjoy the barbicue!" gets memed to no end, while also sending a horrible shiver down people's spine whenever somebody brings it up. Truly, the villain to end all villains. I can see it happen so vividly... If anybody wants to talk about this more, PLEASE hit me up! This just feels too good! Until off course the party moves on to their next Campaign in the setting for "Final Fantasy 5" but that's a whole OTHER can of worms!

[lloronista]

chrysanthemum in the mirror, moon on the water 

(鏡菊水月)

Shisui/Itachi | Samurai AU Rated M (violence & eventual smut) | 1690 words Chapter 1/13 --- Prologue --- 

鏡花水月 (Kyōka Suigetsu) - ‘mirror flower, moon water,’ meaning something that can be seen but not touched, like an illusion, a mirage. 

                                                *

The whole world was dyed red.

Red sky stained by a red sunset, the sun itself bleeding out into darkened clouds in the west as it sank into the earth, into its mirror image in the puddles left in the rainstorm’s wake. Puddles long as small lakes and shimmering red, the way only water takes in light when it hemorrhages so deep a shade as this and magnifies it. Makes the world liquid as an open artery.

At four years old, Itachi had watched a man die in such a way.

He’d watched as the boy carrying him on his back took up a sword and slashed a grown man’s throat. What frightened Itachi wasn’t the act of killing itself, nor the sudden hollowness in the man’s stare as his hands flew up uselessly to press at the wound. Eyes like a ghost’s, as if he could already see a landscape beyond this one. He’d hardly registered that a second later such a fate could have been his own; samurai children are not afraid of dying.

Water sloshed around the older boy’s calves as he trudged through one of these deeper puddles, slowly so as not to stumble over any limbs. Off in the trees farther away, cicadas droned on.

Death surrounded them on all sides, as inescapable as air. Mere hours ago, in the onslaught of battle and storm, the marshy field had been transformed to resemble a gash in the earth. He’d wanted to see it, not even knowing what it was. Wandering the wooded and rice-paddied area past his home’s borders was not unusual for Itachi; curiosity had guided him further that day. It was as if every living creature, the crows in the trees and insects in the grass, could sense something about to erupt. The impending storm, the pounding of hooves into confrontation. Itachi had underestimated the scope of the plain and ventured too close, ensnared once the clans’ skirmish blew into a full battle. Thunder roaring in the skies, from the feet of hundreds, inside of his chest.

None were as deafening as the silence that followed.

Itachi had never heard such a silence, like the air was paralyzed. All around them, the dead piling up, their faces rendered unrecognizable yet united in the same expression of lifelessness at the end.

Bodies are such fragile things.

The slosh of water crowded Itachi’s ears, growing more unbearable by the minute. Yet his voice would not materialize and beg the sound to ease. He could only continue to stare transfixed at the crimson sky’s reflection in the water, rippling with every step. Imagining that even the heavens were trembling.  

I am in shock, Itachi thought, testing the word out, like a foreign material between his fingertips. Like the farmer last week in the village, who’d only been able to sit paralyzed after cutting off his thumb and losing so much blood without dying. His father had relayed the story to him. How the man hadn’t been able to speak when someone finally stumbled upon him in the field, though his eyes had stayed open the whole time. Still witnessing everything around him. This is what it feels like.

Palm-sweat dampening the cotton under his hands where he clung to bony shoulders. Stiff and quiet as he held on. Just gazing out at the macabre scenery colored by a dying sun.

Itachi hated this color. This intense, unforgiving shade of red.

He hated this helpless feeling, the stench of corpses festering in the stagnant puddles and humidity. He couldn’t even feel grateful to this boy who’d shown up and saved his life, annoyed at how his messy hair kept tickling his nose.

“Hey.” The owner of the messy hair turned to peer over his shoulder—there that nest of curls went again, brushing Itachi’s cheek this time—his human voice dragging Itachi out of the depths of his thoughts. “You falling asleep back there? You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time.”

Asleep?

As if this place wasn’t a nightmare anyone would hope to wake from, reality waiting somewhere else?

Could he crane his neck more, the boy would’ve met quite a pointed stare from Itachi, brows knit in an unfittingly adult way for such young, round features. The muteness plaguing him finally cracked.

“Why would I be asleep?” he demanded, instantly regretting how sullen it came out.

The boy let out a mirthful huff. “Just wondering. You can go ahead, you know, if you want to.”

“No thank you,” Itachi mumbled. “Anyways, you should be quiet, too. Someone will find us.”

“There’s no one but us here. Us and the crows.”

The remaining warriors had retreated, groups from the winning side of the bloodbath chasing after them. Surely they’d return soon, to retrieve the fallen—those who were important, at least. Itachi watched the last of the sun’s ember glow cooling down, the color no longer so severe once it congealed. Shadows draped over the hills would soon expand fully into night. In the dark, figures moving among the battlefield had such a way of racing through the imagination.

“If they see us, they’ll think we’re looting.”

“We better reach the woods soon, then. It’ll be easier to hide there.”

Itachi nodded, conscious the older boy wouldn’t see.

“I’ll be able to find my way alone from there.”

“And risk having the Uchiha heir’s blood on my hands, if something happens afterwards?” The older boy chortled. “I don’t think so. Maybe next time don’t run away from home and find yourself in such a messy situation, huh?”

Itachi’s eyes flashed at that, unable to pinpoint if what dug under his skin more was the idea that he was pampered back at home, or if it was this boy’s know-it-all attitude when he was hardly more than a child himself. “What about you, you followed me here, didn’t you?”

His shoulders shook under Itachi’s hands as he let out a small laugh—the first pleasant sound to fall on Itachi’s ears that day. “What can I say, I couldn’t help but notice you.” He craned his head again, this time catching Itachi with the full weight of his glance. “You’re glad, though, right?”

Embarrassment flooded him. Dazed still, hollowed out by every awful thing he’d taken in that day, Itachi’s exhaustion was no match for the mortifying ordeal of being tended to by another radiating through him. The hands hooked under his knees had splotches of dried blood crusted on them; had held a sword when Itachi couldn’t.

Maybe that’s what it was that had frozen Itachi in that moment of fate—that he could not even fight for himself.

Hands too small to grip a sword-hilt, little limbs too weak.

“I can walk now.”

The boy made no move to let him down, soldiering on with careful steps up the slippery incline they’d reached. But his tone was gentle as he told him, “It’s alright. We still have a ways to go once we get to the forest. I won’t get tired.”

                                                *

Voices called for the lanterns to be lit as soon as sentries picked out two small figures approaching the gate. All at once, the Uchiha compound stirred from its uneasy slumber with lights flickering to life throughout homes and at every guard post. In a matter of moments people were emerging from their houses, tired faces illuminated by candles and oil lamps, their lights together speckling the darkness in a way Itachi couldn’t help but find reminiscent of a festival scene, only the whimsy had been overtaken by a somber and frantic tone. A commotion bloomed in the courtyard as his brethren rushed to surround them, ushering the two boys past the gates and into their swarm of questions and care.

“Lord Fugaku’s son is alive, go and tell him at once!”

“Thank the goddess Kannon he’s safe!”

“Look, they have blood on their kimono!” one woman cried upon seeing the dark stains on the fronts of both boys’ clothing. “Where are you injured, child?”

Throughout the fuss, Itachi stood numbly with his hand in the other boy’s, shaking his head, ‘no, I’m not hurt,’ or nodding ‘yes, I’m okay.’ Beside him, the other boy seemed overwhelmed, unused to the amount of attention. A muscle in his finger twitched, tightening its hold on Itachi’s.

Just then a rough voice, though no louder than those around it, boomed above the din. “Where have you been, Itachi?”

The worried aunts and other elders parted to let Fugaku through, their clan leader’s face a mask of fury. All eyes fell on them as parent and child reunited.

Itachi looked up into his father’s eyes, limned red and shining with relief despite the harshness in his stare. Recognized the fear and concern behind his anger, and felt ashamed. His own gaze dropped to the ground. “Forgive me.”

The tension seemed to thaw then.

“Come.” His father placed a hand at his back and urged him toward their house. “You owe your mother an explanation. Get inside.”

Before Itachi could open his mouth to speak, he felt himself pushed along, wrenched so swiftly apart from the other boy.

“Thank you, everyone, for helping to find my son,” his father addressed their kin, bowing his head forward. “On his behalf, I ask your forgiveness in causing such trouble.”

As they started toward the steps on the verandah, Itachi turned back toward the boy he’d spent the entire day close by, and their gazes caught one last time. What kind of look was that on his face, he wondered, that expression neither fully relieved nor sad? He thought about it while his mother helped him out of his dirty clothes and inspected him for cuts and bruises, the bathwater beside them pleasantly steaming. She didn’t cry when she laid eyes on him, but took his small body into her arms and just held him there, suffusing him with warmth more wholly than the hot water ever could. Yet still, Itachi couldn’t help but feel the ghost of heat in his palm from where that strange boy had been holding his hand.

[geese-howards-transscriber]

Happy Halloween! I hope you like possession fics because I kinda just got done writing one!

Synopsis: You’re an urban explorer five years after Kefka is slain. Your friends dare you to go to the last remaining relic of his reign of terror.

You were brought here by a dare from your friends.

It was three days ago when you all were out drinking, celebrating five years of freedom from the terror that ripped through the world during the reign of Kefka Palazzo. That single year of hell on earth was enough to break many a spirit, including yours, for a time. And while his death may have removed magic from the world, it also brought standing peace; one that was, perhaps, permanent.  It was a blessing for you; you were an explorer now that the world was remade and you no longer lived in fear of being obliterated. As you and your friends reminisced on days gone by, one of them said:

“You know, they still haven’t torn down that church way out by Thamasa.”

You looked over at them, brow raised. “Seriously? Any idea why?”

“No clue.” They drank. “I just know that that place has a pretty bad reputation. People go in there and never return.”

“Hey, [name],” another of your friends piped in, “You’re an explorer, right?”

“Yeah…?” You didn’t like where this was going.

“Why don’t you go and check it out?” Your friend laughs. “Unless you’re a coward. Are you a coward, [name]?”

You stammer. “No,” you finally manage, scowling. “I said nothing about not going there.”

“C’mon,” another says. “You might find some sweet loot.”

You think it over, alcohol hazing your judgment. “Fine,” you finally say, “but if I don’t come back, you know where I went.”

You made good on your promise, though begrudging it was. You packed a dagger in case monsters were about, rations for the long road ahead, a tent to sleep in, and some changes of clothes. The ‘pilgrimage’ to the church would be arduous at best. You waved your friends good-bye and set out, stone-cold sober and understandably pissed off.

You lost count of time during your voyage to Thamasa from Maranda. You do remember passing by where that horrible tower once stood--- the tower where Kefka reigned from, where the Light that destroyed towns and villages rained down from. You shuddered as you passed the ruins of the tower, swearing to yourself never to go there, even if your life depended on it.

You finally made it to your destination after a few days more of travel, having taken a boat from Albrook, still thriving even having been so close to the tower. You set foot in Thamasa, wobbly-legged from prolonged time at sea, looking around. The town seemed slow to recover, but already had a bustling population, perplexingly enough. You decide to stay at the inn for the rest of the day to get a fresh start. The price seemed rather exorbitant, but given the condition of the town, it’s understandable.

You have a nightmare that night. You dream that you’re standing before the ruined tower. All is silent. You turn to leave, but hear the rubble behind you move. A pale hand reaches out, plants itself on the rubble pile, and helps with lifting a wiry figure from the debris, their hair a mess, body covered in all a manner of wounds. You feel unable to move, as one does in nightmares, glued to the spot as the pale figure slowly cocks their head towards you, their eyes aglow with power-- no, not just power, magic. Magic, which was supposed to have died with the tyrannical god. Magic, which all sane men had come to fear. Still unable to move, you watch in horror as the figure begins to grin, then chuckle, then laugh… and laugh… and laugh.

When you finally awaken, the laughter rings in your ears, looping over and over in your mind. If you were wise, this would be where you decide to go back on your word and return to Maranda.

But you aren’t exactly known for being wise.

You leave the inn after gathering your things, heading to the west. You feel a sense of dread building as you continue traveling, almost as if the closer you get to the place, the closer you feel you are to your inevitable demise. By the time it’s finally in sight, you feel nauseous-- its architecture is out of place among the young forest that surrounds it, and even concealed by kudzu, you can tell that the bricks are already crumbling, the stained glass shattered, the ceiling collapsed.

By the time you’re standing at the fallen doors, you have to resist every instinct to turn tail and flee.

But you had a dare to complete.

You step inside, light beaming through the kudzu leaves in little spots. The pews are out of alignment, some even flipped over or broken by fallen debris. Towards the pulpit, there’s a statue of a six-winged being; the arms and parts of the wings have been broken off by debris, and the whole thing was covered in moss and lichen. You could make out the statue’s sharp features and maddening grin, even through neglected appearance.

You remember your nightmare and shudder.

You go beyond the pulpit to the altar, the gilded and gaudy relics untouched. Tempting as it was, you remember the fact that no one’s returned from this place alive. Maybe because they were trying to loot the place… but it’s not like they were just… smote. Magic doesn’t exist anymore, right? So what’s the big deal? Maybe they were just runaways that sought shelter for the night and left before anyone could find them.

You give in to temptation, and take one of the sacred relics.

Your ears ring with the nightmarish laughter, and you drop the relic onto the floor, looking around frantically. It sounds like it’s coming from all around you, from the kudzu ceiling, the broken marble floor.

No one is there.

You step away from the relics, backing towards the chancel and nearly tripping on the moldy carpet. You look back as you stumble, seeing a skeleton crushed by what was once part of the ceiling. Without magic in the world, you wonder where their soul went… or even if they have a soul left. You also see a pipe organ, the pipes red with rust. Once you regain your balance and composure, you pace over to it, and press a key. The organ clearly works as the high F resounds through the church and surrounding wood, spooking the wildlife away.

Play me a song, you think in another, unfamiliar voice, seemingly jovial at the prospect. Go on. It’s been a while since I heard anything.

You step away from the organ, as if defying the thought. You aren’t even sure where you’ve heard that voice before, or if you’d even heard it before. You swear you hear it scoff as you step away from the organ and begin walking towards the sacristy.

Inside the sacristy, you find still more relics-- gilded staves encrusted with all a manner of jewels and gems, a reliquary encasing a strange-looking feather that you’re sure isn’t from a phoenix, robes that look more at home in the court of a deranged king than in a religious building.

You’re sure not to touch anything.

What’s wrong? The voice seems to jeer at you. Could it be… you’re afraid? Here, let me help you out.

You look down and see your hand reaching out to touch the moth-bitten motley robes, as if on its own volition, because you certainly can’t feel it moving at all. Before you can stop it, you’re gently thumbing over the fabric, barely even able to feel it. No harm seems to come from it this time, but you tell yourself that it’s time to leave before anything stranger happens.

Where do you think you’re going? The voice asks.

Home, you think back to it. I’m going back home.

You go to walk back to the entrance, but your legs refuse to move. In fact, your legs feel like they’ve fallen asleep.

I think not.

Your legs instead take you to the chapel, still unnaturally untouched by the state of decay that had taken hold of the rest of the church. It’s as opulent as you’d imagined the rest of the place would have been five years ago, gilded candelabras sitting on the altar, their candles burned down to the hilt, wax long since dripped all over their bases. On all sides of the altar are golden icons of what you assume are the Warring Triad; you shudder as you remember what happened to them, at least what you were told via word of mouth. The stained glass window that looms above the altar is completely in tact, depicting the tyrant god-- both as a man and as divine.

Aah, this brings back so many memories, the voice says. Isn’t it lovely? Hearing them beg for my mercy always brought a smile to my face. Have you ever heard that? The sound of fervent prayer for a person’s life? It’s music to my ears.

“Just who the hell are you?” you ask to the empty room, staring down the stained glass window. You can almost feel the grin creeping across the face of your tormentor, for you yourself are starting to grin.

Tut tut, the voice replies. We can’t have you shaking me off, can we? Names have power and I’m not giving that up. That’d be stupid, even for me. Oh, by the by, do you have any last words before I shut you out for good? Will you, too, beg for mercy? Or are you one of those pesky strong, silent types?

You tense at the mocking voice. “What?!”

...really now? That’s all? Yeesh, you really are a pushover, aren’t you? Oh well! Let’s get going. We have people to see, things to do! Come on, come on!

You fight to stand still in defiance of your tormentor, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to move.

Oh, come on, the voice growls. Just move already!

You lose the battle of wills. You begin to walk out of the church, albeit slowly-- as if you’re remembering how it feels to walk. Your entire body begins to numb, the same painful feeling of a limb waking up seeming to surround you.

---

“[name],” an unfamiliar person calls out to you as you enter Maranda. You turn your head to look.

“We thought you had died,” another says as the group approaches. “Did you bring back anything?”

You could say that, you think to yourself, but shake your head. “Why do you ask?”

“Aaw, come on,” another of the group groans. “You went all that way and didn’t bring back anything? How lame!”

“Cut [them] some slack,” says the first one. “All that matters is that [they’re] back. C’mon, guys. First round is on us. What do you say?”

You blink, unaccustomed to being invited to anything beyond military meetings. “Sure,” you reply, “but first I think I’ll hit up the apothecary. I’m not feeling so hot.”

“We’ll be at the inn,” the apparent friend says. “C’mon, guys. [name]’ll catch up.”

You turn and make a beeline for the apothecary, a devious smirk on your face.

They don’t suspect a thing.

Nor will they suspect anything when you poison their drinks.

[fleetwoodmoth]

Angler

“You’re lurking.”

           “Am not.”

           Nema sighed, attempting to gather the maps she had sprawled over the library table. She hadn’t heard when Nico came in or when he stopped to lean up against a bookcase beside her, but when he sighed heavily she had attempted to keep herself from jumping.

           “Is there something you need?” She asked, rolling the papers only to have them slip and scatter from her hands and onto the floor. Nema watched with dejected, slumped shoulders as they fluttered across the room, some slipping under a nearby bookcase. Only when they had all settled did she slowly start picking them up, a hand coming into view holding a neatly folded tidal map. Nema took it with a quiet ‘thank you’ before tucking it under her arm.

           “Going on a trip?” Nico asked, sounding only halfway interested in his own question.

           “Maybe…” Nema said, not meeting his eye even as he moved to follow her out into the hallway.

           “Maybe? You’re not sure?” He snorted at that, Nema’s temper flaring for a moment.

           “Why do you care?” She snapped turning to him, deflating after she did.

           Nico put his hands up in defense, Nema letting go of a heavy sigh before looking down at the notes she had taken.

           “I’m going home,” she said softly.

           “Aren’t we… at home?”

           “No, not here. I mean like, back to my home. Back to Linmell.”

           “Really? The ghost town?”

           “It’s my hometown.” Nema’s voice had dropped to something almost inaudible.

           “Oh… sorry.” Nico said.

           “Why would you want to go back?” Nico asked after a brief silence.

           Nema gave him a wary look and he noticed the circles under her eyes.

           “Aren’t Arryn and Ailith going with you then?”

           Nema bit back the urge to snap at him again, pain beginning to thrum in her temples.

           “No.”

           “The last time we were there we almost died in a pit under a house and now we know about the Clan and… I’m not putting them in that kind of danger for something so…” she couldn’t find the right words, trivial? Unimportant? No, it was important to her. Selfish maybe.

           “Well, those woods you had marked on your map-“ Nico plucked one of the pieces of paper from her arms.

           “Is infested with undead. I wouldn’t recommend going there, at least not alone.”

           Nema squinted at the red circled on the map that he held out in front of her.

           “No, that’s not right. Our woods were warded, just like anywhere else. And we’re by the sea, the undead don’t venture all that close.”

           “Things have changed, I wouldn’t venture out there if I were you.”

           Nema’s shoulders drooped, her brow creasing as she halfheartedly took the map from him.

           “But… I need to.”

           “What’s so important out there?”

           Nema went quiet again, chewing at her lip.

           “Look, all I’m saying is that’s a suicide run,” Nico sighed and folded his arms over his chest, watching Nema as she seemed to mull over his words.

           “Fine. Come with me then,” she said.

           Nico quirked an eyebrow, but something about his expression, maybe it was the way he tried to suppress a smirk that made Nema think that was what he had wanted.

           “Am I going to have to pay you for this?” She asked, continuing on her path to the stairs.

           “I’ll give you the friends and family rate,” Nico said, stopping at the bottom as Nema began to ascend, pausing for a moment to throw him a look.

           “And how much is that going to cost me?”

           “Dibs on any loot we find along the way. And I get second watch during then night.” He turned to leave, heading for the courtyard.

           “You know you could have just said you were going stir crazy.” Nema called after him only to receive a middle finger in response.

+++

           “Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?” Arryn kept pace with Nema as she headed down the dock, dressed in casual clothing, a book tucked under her arm, Ailith stood balancing on the railing, talking with Nico as he moved about the deck.

           “I always need you beside me Arryn but for now… It’s just a short trip. It won’t be dangerous, Nico will help guide me and we’ll be back within the week.”

           “Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

           Nema paused, watching the two on the boat before turning to Arryn. She reached into her pack and pulled out a small bundle of objects tied with twine.

           “In my village we have a memorial for those who have passed. We cremate their remains, we always have, even before the plague. But to honor their memory and comfort the grieving there was a private spring in the woods, only about a day’s journey out. There you could set up a plot to leave things, and since—since my mother died during the siege of the village I’ve never really had closure. So I’m going to set something up for her, I know it might seem silly but—I just—“ Arryn took her hand, Nema meeting her eye as she did.

           “It’s not silly, if it’s important for you to do this then I respect that. Be safe, okay?”

           Nema smiled, nodding as she placed the bundle back into her bag.

           “Okay, stay out of trouble while I’m gone then,” Nema said as she pulled Arryn into a hug.

           “We’ll try.”

           “Ailith, c’mon, they need to go!” Arryn called as she released Nema from the hug.

           Ailith leap skillfully from the railing of the boat to the dock, barely making any noise as she did.

           “Be safe.” She said as she enveloped Nema in her arms, Nema squeezing her lightly before taking a step back.

           “I always am.”

           “You’re not a good liar.” Ailith punched her lightly on the arm, Nema grinning at her as she headed towards the gangplank.

           “Don’t burn the keep down while we’re gone!” Nema called over her shoulder.

           “No promises!”

           Nico pulled the plank on board as Nema waved to them, watching as they slowly began to fade into the distance. It was odd having another person onboard, she had completely expected to go it alone, but she wasn’t completely adverse to the idea of not being on her own for the long two week journey back to her village. She hoped Nico was wrong, she hoped that when they got there, when they reached the edge of the forest and delved into the trees that it would be peaceful. She knew however that Nico was a ranger, he knew the woods, and as much as Nema wanted to believe that she knew her home better than anyone she acknowledged it had been much too long since she had properly spent anything longer than a few hours there. Either way, even if there were undead in the forest she was sure the two of them could handle it.

           “The skies are looking clear, maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll get there sooner than we thought,” Nico called from the bow, Nema humming a reply she knew he couldn’t hear. Nema made her way to the upper deck, letting the wind blow over her face and through her hair, for a moment she imagined she was back home, back on her father’s boat, her mother and Darya standing on the dock waving them off. But this was her reality now, being seen off by her new family, and while it wasn’t like it used to be, it was still good. Still home.

+++

           Although the seas weren’t as friendly as the first day they set off it was by no means unmanageable, the winter was only just beginning to thaw up North and the seas were still restless from the storms. Nema found herself being nudged awake at midnight by Nico who told her that the docks were in sight. Rolling off of the bunk, body still exhausted from being pelted with ice cold rain, she made her way to the now surprisingly quiet deck. The sky had cleared, the moon and stars shining brightly down on the craft, the only sound was the distant crashing of the waves on the rocks.

           “We should dock and tie off for the night. We can sleep fully for now, get our strength up before we head out.” Nico said, Nema still quiet as she watched the walls of her village come into view in the moonlight.

           “That sounds good.” She said, her voice raspy from yelling over the sound of rain. Silence hung between them, the creaking of the boat beneath their feet filling it for a moment before Nico spoke again.

           “You still up for it?”

           Nema nodded.

           “Okay. Get rest then, we’ll need it.” Nico nudged her with his elbow, Nema only swaying slightly before heading back to her bunk, pausing in the doorway.

           “Thank you,” she said.

           “Eh, shut up,” he replied shaking his head, Nema smiling at him before heading off to sleep.

           Nema found herself lying awake, the bundle of shells, pearls and driftwood hanging from the bed pole nearby. She watched it sway, gently and quietly clinking against the wood. Around the top of it was the blanket pin her mother used to wear, lovely brown and blue beads strung together and tied at the top of the small net of items. It was all she had left, and while she wanted to cling to it, to keep it as a reminder, she knew she wanted to do better than that in remembrance. Her mother would have wanted to be at the spring. Nema wasn’t sure when she drifted off, or if she had just closed her eyes for a moment before Nico was shaking her awake again.

           “Suns up, we should probably head out,” he said, gathering his things from where he had been storing them beneath an adjacent bunk.

           Nema sat up, bleary eyed as she stretched out her stiff arms.

           “How’s the weather looking?” She asked.

           “Clear, for now at least. There are clouds on the horizon, moving this way, but if we head out now we might beat it out there.”

           Nema nodded, pulling the blanket Darya had given her around her shoulders and setting the memorial bundle in her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

           “Then let’s head out.”

           Linmell was like it had been when she last saw it, nearly every building looking like a forgotten shack, left for the elements to eat at. It was strange, like seeing the skeletal remains of a person, you know they used to contain life, they lived and breathed but now they were just rubble left to decay. Nema could hear her heart beating in her chest, a loud thrumming which was the only thing that made her feel like she was still in her body, the only thing that made this all seem real and not like some nightmare she kept reliving. Beyond the village she could see the forest, before it used to call to her to explore it, to run through the trees with Darya playing pretend when they should have been helping their parents at home. Everything was ghost like, only memories lived there now.

           “According to your map it shouldn’t take more than a day to get out there. Should be simple enough if the undead aren’t too much.”

           Nema jumped slightly, forgetting once again that Nico had come with her.

           “Before I left, before… all this, the trails out there were well protected, well warded.”

           “No one has been around to maintain those wards though. Rangers don’t tend to venture that close to the village either so the trails might be overgrown.”

           Everything seemed to be a reminder of how the village of Linmell seemingly ceased to exist overnight. Did anyone but the survivors and herself even care? She tried to remember her return, tried to remember what it felt like to hear that Linmell was no longer a suitable place to dock. Was she angry? Was she sad? Was she guilty? She wasn’t sure. There was a lot of drinking involved, a lot of waking up in a strangers arms and trying to figure out how she got there. That was all before she finally got herself together, before Arryn and Ailith and Nico and Kol. Before Si and Lenna. Before she found home again. Nema shuttered at the memories, remembering why she always tried to forget them.

           Nema led Nico through where the fishing families used to live, the town square, by the meeting hall and rich district where she, Arryn and Ailith discovered the knife, making sure to give a wide birth to the house they had ventured under. The forest was beyond that, up a slight incline that overlooked the village. She could see the trailhead, a small sign that now sat lopsided against a tree. Nico had been right, the trail itself was overgrown with two years of underbrush and weeds.

           “You know you still haven’t told me why we’re going into the forest in the first place.” Nico said.

           “If you’re unsure you can stay back at the boat. Probably too personal for your tastes anyways.” Nema shrugged.

           Nico brought his hand to his chest in mock hurt “And I thought we were getting along.”

           “Shut it,” Nema shoved him slightly, the ranger barely stumbling an inch as they waded through the forest.

           “I mean if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, just know if we’re in the process of getting eaten I will want to know what was so important before I die.”

           Nema sighed “Fine. You want to know so badly?” She stopped walking, folding her arms across her chest.

           “Not really.” He said continuing on ahead of her.

           Nema rolled her eyes at him, sticking her tongue out at his back.

           “We’re going to the remembrance spring.” Nema said, Nico pausing to look back at her.

           “For my mother,” she continued.

           “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

           “Why are you such an asshole sometimes?”

           “Because, otherwise people get too touchy feely. Arm’s length is a good distance.”

           “You know what I think?” Nema asked, trotting up beside him as they walked.

           “I don’t really want to know.”

           “I think you’re scared of getting attached to people. But—“ “-There’s always a but.”

           Nema punched him lightly in the arm.

           “But, I think you want companionship.”

           Nico snorted.

           “The forest is my companion, doesn’t whine, doesn’t prod, doesn’t—“

           “Doesn’t die?”

           Nico opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead he looked away. Silence fell between the two of them. She felt somewhat bad for the comment.

           “You know, I understand the appeal of the forest to you.”

           Nico didn’t reply, his expression exceedingly neutral.

           “I feel the same way about the ocean and the sky. It’s always there. It was there before you it’ll be there after you’re gone. You won’t be the one to have to say goodbye.”

           “Shh.” Nico stopped suddenly.

           “You know it’s okay to admit you have feelings. You’re only hum—“

           Nico seized Nema’s arm, a hand going over her mouth as he nearly threw the two of them into the brush beside the trail. Nema wanted to react, to elbow him in the ribs, but then she heard something. It was a humming, low and soft, something like a child’s voice, it was comforting really the more Nema listened to it. Nema wrenched Nico’s hand from her face, trying to turn and look at him.

           “What is that?” She whispered.

           “It’s bad.”

           “Thank you for that, now, what is it?”

           Nico didn’t answer and Nema’s jaw clenched, there was something about his silence that made her blood run cold. The humming was getting louder, the sound no longer coming from one point but multiple. Panic was rising in Nema’s gut, she wasn’t exactly sure why however, she felt a moderate amount of safety, they were beside the trail, Nico was with her, it was daylight. The only disconcerting thing about the whole situation was the humming. By the time it felt close enough to just be on the other side of the bank they had hidden themselves behind Nema’s palms were sweating, her heart was racing and there was a strange ringing in her ears. Run. Nema blinked a few times, unsure as to who had said that. Run or you will certainly die. Nema pulled away from Nico who had been peering out over the embankment, his hand on her shoulder. Run, run now, before it’s too late. There was the sound of something crashing beside them, big and heavy, Nema’s vision was swimming and her head was throbbing but she needed to get out of there. She took off at a full sprint into the woods, adrenaline fresh in her blood, the feeling of something only inches off her back reaching for her spurring her on. It felt like when she was a kid and she and Darya would chase each other, that feeling of someone behind you ready to pounce on you. But then it had been a game, now it was so very real. She heard her name being called behind her, nearly drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She took a right, bounding over a fallen tree and across a creek. Was it getting darker out? Was the storm moving in? Or was it just her vision.

           Nema dared a glance over her shoulder, finding only twisting woods as far as she could see. Suddenly the ground wasn’t there anymore, her foot instead slipping on an incline. She fell forward, attempting to catch herself on the dirt in front of her only to start to roll off. She let out a sharp cry, squeezing her eyes shut before something caught her, a hand with a fist full of her shawl.

           “What the fuck are you doing?!” Nico hauled her up.

           Nema swaying slightly only for Nico to steady her by her shoulders. Nema’s head whipped around as she scanned their surroundings. To her left was a hill, while it wasn’t too steep to begin with it dropped off after a few feet and ended in a shallow stream where various boulders, rocks and fallen trees were piled. To her right was the rest of the forest, completely empty and quiet, no darkness, no whistling.

           “I thought… I thought I was going to die.” She said, figuring she should be honest at this point.

           “I mean it would have hurt but it’s not that big of a drop.”

           “No no,” Nema swatted him away from her, pacing back towards where she had come from.

           “I thought something was coming for us, I thought… I swore…”

           “That why you up and bolted into the forest?”

           “The whistling, what was it?” Nema asked, turning to him.

           “What whistling?” Nico cocked and eyebrow, true concern beginning to cloud his somewhat annoyed expression.

           “The whistling, the reason you threw us into a bush.”

           Nico stared at her for a moment before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

           “I pulled us off the trail because a bear cub had wandered onto the path, I didn’t want the mother to rip our heads off because we got too close.”

           It was Nema’s turn to stare at him, eyes wide and brow creased. How could he have not heard it? It was all she could hear and it was coming from everywhere.

           “The crashing beside us? You didn’t hear that?”

           Nico took a step towards her, squinting at her and taking her in like he was looking for something.

           “Did you hit your head on something?” He reached out to touch her, Nema flinching away from him, irritability from his disbelief rising in her gut.

           “No, I didn’t. Just forget about it. It doesn’t matter. Let’s go, we’re losing daylight.”

           Nema pushed past him, finding her footprints easily enough, Nico quietly watching her as she made her way back to the trail. The trip back was longer than Nema expected, she hadn’t realize how far she had ran until she was following her own footsteps. Nico kept quiet, letting her lead them, the desire to talk to him having left Nema completely. Before stepping out onto the trail Nico motioned for her to wait, peering out to make sure the coast was clear.

           “Look, there,” Nico climbed out over the bushes before squatting in the road.

           “See? Bear tracks.”

           Nema stared at them, still unwilling to believe that that was what he had them hiding from.

           “Okay.” She said simply before trudging ahead, Nico rolling his eyes at her back.

           The trip was silent, the sound of birds and other wildlife their only company which was fine with Nico. Nema pulled off her shawl as she began to get too warm, picking the burrs out of the bottom of it. It wasn’t long before the sun began to set.

           “I thought you said there would be more undead here.” Nema finally said, breaking the silence that had hung between the two of them for so long.

           “From what I heard we should have seen some by now.” Nico sounded genuinely confused almost to the point of sounding disappointed.

           “Maybe your intel was wrong,” Nema said.

           “Maybe we’re not deep enough yet.”

           “You want to see undead?” Nema asked.

           “No.” Nico’s tone was flat, completely unjoking.

           “We should be almost there, the last time I walked this trail we were there by now.”

           Nema hadn’t been sure if it was the fact she hadn’t been home in two years or the overgrowth but something about the trail had seemed wrong but she could never put her finger on it. The forest sounded like a regular forest, the trees, brush and bushes were all normal looking and native to the area, the sun shone through the trees and every now and then she could hear a stream nearby. Everything was just normal. Maybe that was it, maybe it was too normal, but that just seemed silly.

           “Well if it gets any darker I think we should camp for the night,” Nico suggested.

           “We’re almost there, I promise.”

           Nema was starting to feel desperate, like she had something to prove. This was her home, she had to know it better than he did right? Nema huffed, picking up her pace despite her aching feet. But even as they seemed to make some kind of headway by the time the sun dipped behind the horizon and the forest had become bathed in darkness there was no sign of the spring.

           “There’s supposed to be markers, even if the wards didn’t hold there should be some sign, some indication that we’re close.”

           “Nema, please. Let’s just rest, if we really are close we’ll get there in the morning.”

           Nico had already started to clear out a small area beside the road for them to set up a fire and camp for the night. Nema sighed before moving to help him. She was still upset about him not believing her, but the more she thought about it the more muddled her memory of the whistling and the voice and the fear became. It was starting to feel more like a dream than anything else. Nema set out her bedroll, pulling out a bundle of dried meat to snack on while she and Nico gathered wood. When the fire was set night had settled in proper, the stars could barely be seen through the thick branches of the trees.

           “Hey, if you really did hear something… just let me know next time okay?” Nico said as he prodded at the fire.

           “I did Nico, I heard it.”

           “Okay okay, I believe you. Just don’t take off running without me next time.”

           “Yeah, okay.” Nema said nodding.

           “You okay with first watch?” He asked.

           “Yeah, that’s part of your pay right?” Nema said with a smirk.

           Nico laughed lightly before laying back, propping himself up in the roots of a tree.

           “Yeah, yeah I said that didn’t I?”

           “Shut up and go to sleep already.” Nema said, tossing a pebble at him.

           “Fine fine jeez, moody.”

           Nico rolled over and Nema was alone. She had never been afraid of the dark, not really, but there was something about the way it felt so heavy at that moment. Maybe it was the thought that undead really were nearby they had just been lucky enough not to see any, or maybe it was the thought that their luck might run out soon. Nema pulled her shawl in close, deciding to work on a woven bracelet she had brought with her, busying her hands and mind in order to pass the time. The problem was the more she focused the more she wanted to close her eyes, her head feeling fuzzy, almost like it had when she had heard the whistling before.

           “Nico?” she called quietly, sure he hadn’t already passed out, only to have no response.

           “Hey, numbskull,” she said a little bit louder.

           Her eyelids were beginning to droop, her muscles feeling exhausted and immoveable. She was starting to slump forward and despite the unnatural feeling of it all she couldn’t help but feel extremely calm and relaxed. By the time she had fully laid over she had passed out.

+++

           Nema shot up, eyes wide as she heard a deafening scream. She blinked away the sleep, adrenaline rushing back into her veins as she searched the darkness around her. Nico was gone, the campfire nearly burnt out. How had she let herself fall asleep? She was supposed to be watching, she never fell asleep on watch. Nema pushed herself up, moving to where Nico had been asleep the last time she saw him.

           “Nico?” She called, voice raspy and throat dry.

           Panic began to set in, who had screamed? Her question was answered as another scream bit through the night air. Nema took off running, this time with a destination in mind.

           “Nico!”

           She could hear him, he was shouting, he sounded like he was in pain.

           “Nico!” Her voice broke harshly, fear seizing her.

           Had he been right? Had she let undead drag him away when she was supposed to be watching? Another shout, this one was scared, no, terrified. She had never heard him like that before, sick, angry, cocky, whatever, but never like this, not this desperate. Tears stung her eyes as she searched the darkness, still following where the voice had last come from. Ahead of her was a clearing, the trees parting way until finally Nema burst into the moonlight. It was the spring, but it was nothing like she remembered. It was a large formation of stone and rock with a pool of water beneath it, a small trickle coming from the cracks of the rocks; around it were old stone markers where people who had left remembrances, but they were decimated, knocked over, old offerings smashed and scattered. The most distinct change however was even as the silvery blue moon reflected in the spring, the water was clearly a deep dark red. Nema tore her eyes away from it, searching what once was a sacred place for Nico. She saw him, shoved up against the rocky wall, hands over the back of his head, he was hunched over cowering, shouting and screaming like he was being attacked. Nema rushed to his side, pulling him back by his shoulder. He swiped at her, shoving her back, fighting her off but Nema kept a strong hold on him.

           “Run, you need to run!” He was nearly begging her.

           “Nico, Nico open your eyes, look at me.” Nema tried to steady him, a flickering of faerie fire lighting up the spring around them.

           Nico calmed slightly, at least he had stopped thrashing, he still muttered, still insistent that she needed to run.

           “Nico, you’re safe,” Nema finally said, shaking him slightly.

           Nico’s eyes snapped open, his entire body rigid and in the light Nema swore she saw something like tears on his cheeks although she couldn’t be certain.  

           “Are you okay?” Nema asked.

           Nico sat up before pushing past her, looking around the clearing.

           “The undead.” He said quietly.

           “What?”

           “You didn’t see them when you came?”

           “Nico, what is going on?” Nema asked.

           “The hoards… they… they’re gone.”

           “What are you talking about?”

           Nico strode up to her, his entire demeanor changed.

           “This isn’t a fucking joke Nema.” He said, his jaw set tight.

           “I’m not joking Nico, there are no undead.”

           He seemed irritated, almost as if he were angry at her, he paced away, looking around where they were. He was searching for something, tracks by the look of it.

           “I swore—I know—“ Nico held his head, eyes pinched shut in a painful manner.

           Nema wandered the perimeter, looking for any signs that he had in fact been attacked. Even as she had woken him she found no signs of damage on his body or his clothing. Nema stopped, scanning their surroundings when something caught her eye. It was bright white and small, a dress laying in the brush not far from them just off to the right of the spring. The sound of humming from earlier began to fill her ears again.

           “Nico.” She called to him.

           As she grew closer she realized it wasn’t just a dress, it was a body. Small, childlike, laying face down.

           “Nico a child.” She said rushing to its side.

           Nico turned to her, squinting through the faerie fire and moonlight at what she was crouched over. Something about it wasn’t right, the more he stared the more wrong it looked.

           “Nema don’t-!” Before he could get to her Nema reached out, her hand grabbing ahold of the child’s shoulder.

           Before she could even blink the body in front of her was yanked away, almost as if it were dragged into the forest. She fell backwards onto her hands, watching the darkness it had just disappeared into. Her stomach churned, the smell of rotting flesh suddenly burst through the air as something roared. It was undead. Nema scrambled backwards, looking for any sign of what had just made the noise, Nico grabbed her arm making her jump. He hauled her to her feet and by the time she returned to searching the darkness a huge lumbering figure appeared. It was grotesque in nature, nearly the size of Nema’s boat. What looked like a withering corpse headed it while various parts and pieces of undead clung to its sides and torso, below it, where the corpse’s legs should be was some kind of appendage which attached to the body of a child, the one Nema had mistaken for a living person. Its body stretched out behind it, made from various muscles, skeletons and organs of long dead creatures it had seemed to collect. It was like some kind of undead angler fish, luring in unsuspecting passersby with its decoy.

Nema let out a scream as she staggered backwards, Nico yanking her away as a sinewy arm came crashing down, an amalgamation of screams and groans emanating from the creature. Its claws caught her shoulder, digging into her flesh as Nico tore her away from it. They stumbled forward, Nema cradling her arm as they raced for the trail.

“What is it?” Nema screamed as they burst out onto the trail.

“Whatever it is it’s too big to fight.” Nico had an arm around Nema as they arm, hot blood pooling in her hand as she clutched her arm. Her vision was blurring, the humming was louder than before.

Suddenly she was jerked sideways, Nico had fallen beside her, something wrapped around his ankle. He made it to his hands and knees before turning to fire an arrow back behind them. Nema couldn’t see the strange tentacle that had grabbed him in great detail and she was somewhat grateful for that feeling as if it would have probably churned her stomach. Nema fired off lightning back in its direction, the crackling bolts lighting up the trail. It was then she saw that it was attempting to chase them, dragging itself along the dirt and wailing at them. Nema brought the spear down on the appendage, Nico hissing in pain as he unwrapped it from his leg, what looked like acid burns melting through his pants and into his skin.

“Can you walk?” Nema asked pulling him up beside her.

“I can do more than that.” He said.

They took off at a run, the humming in Nema’s ears getting further and further off only to have pain begin to bloom in her temples.

“Something’s wrong,” Nico said through clenched teeth.

“I can feel it too.” Nema said, holding her head as she tried to keep track of the trail in front of them.

What felt like a bolt of electricity surged through her head making her stumble and stop. She shoved her hands into her eyes, feeling the cooling blood smear across her forehead as she did.

“It burns,” Nico said beside her, hissing in pain as he too faltered.

When Nema opened her eyes again she stumbled backward, a scream caught in her throat as what looked like a massacre unfolded in front of her. Bodies, all in various forms of decay were sprawled out on the trail. Dismembered, bloated, half eaten, every inch made her want to vomit.

“What happened?” She said, her voice breaking harshly.

She blinked, the vision seemed to shift and shimmer, like a mirage would, but every time she tried to make it go away it wouldn’t stay gone for long.

“We need to push through, ignore it. It’s not real.” Nico said, taking her by the arm and dragging her forward.

Every sense in Nema’s body was reinforcing that what she was seeing was true. The sight, the smell, the sound, it all felt too real.

           “C’mon Nema, keep walking.” Nico said.

           Nema didn’t even see him anymore and for a moment she wondered if he was seeing what she was. Whatever the case his hand on her arm was all that was keeping her grounded. She didn’t remember how far she walked or how many times she retched. It seemed the creature they had encountered couldn’t move very far from its nest or whatever it called home, but its attack had some kind of lasting effect.

           The next time Nema opened her eyes she wasn’t sure where she was, she smelt meat cooking which was a welcome change to the last thing that had filled her nose. She was propped up in a corner, wrapped in her shawl, arm bandaged tightly. An ocean breeze blew through the drafty structure cooling her clammy skin. Nema attempted to move, her whole body aching horribly as she did.

           “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Nico said.

           He was sitting by a fire not far from her, the smoke billowing out of the fallen in roof above them. His leg was bandaged, several empty bottles of something sitting by his side and a medical kit lay open there as well. He was cooking some kind of meat and he looked pale.

           “Where… are we?” Nema asked, surprised at how wrecked her voice sounded.

           “Linmell. Had to drag you the last half mile. I think you threw up the last three day’s worth of food.”

           Nema let herself relax back into the corner of the room. The house around them was mostly framing, the wood that would have made solid walls mostly rotted out and weather worn. She stretched her legs out in front of her, flexing her toes and listening to her hips pop.

           “Did you not see them?” she asked quietly.

           Nico was quiet for a moment before responding.

           “I’ve seen a lot of death. It wasn’t something new.”

           Nema watched him as he worked at the fire, a jolt of empathy running through her. She really didn’t know all that much about him, but from what she did, he must have gone through hell.

           “Are we leaving?” Nema asked.

           “What, you don’t wanna stay?” Nico asked, lighthearted once again.

           Nema flipped him off, her hand barely coming out of the blanket before returning to its warmth.

           “We can leave once you’ve eaten.”

           Nema nodded, turning her attention elsewhere.

           “Are you okay?” she asked after a moment.

           “You know that thing nearly tore your arm off right? You shouldn’t be asking if I’m the one that’s okay.” Nico said.

           “In the clearing, you were screaming like you were being torn apart.”

           Nico’s lazy smile seemed to waver slightly as he turned back to the fire.

           “It was nothing.” He said “Just a nightmare.”

[botwriter]

Rewritten, Chapter 16: Begin

Read this on Fanfiction.net or Ao3  ➜

Link's first jump had his heart in his throat. It took a moment of freefall for the wind to fill the parasail, and he glided effortlessly forwards, moving gradually downwards but not particularly fast. He tested the limits of the sail; he could tilt it slightly, forward and back, side to side, to slow his descent or change directions. He looked towards the Dueling Peaks in determination; they seemed faraway and unreachable from here, but there was nothing to do but walk there, one step at a time.

The walls of the Great Plateau disappeared beneath him and he had further to glide, so he let the wind take him as far as it would grant, towards a small ruined town. He could see a tower in the distance, identical in image to the Sheikah Tower of the Great Plateau, and knew he had to get there first so that his map could work properly. As he landed and pulled up the Sheikah slate, he was nothing more than a blinking blue dot on a blank screen. He took a deep breath, letting his shoulders fall, and tried to relax. Thoughts of last night's revelations were still plaguing his mind, tearing at his heartstrings and guilting him, but he had not recovered all his memories. He was yet to truly know Zelda, or himself, and wondered if there was any way it would actually happen. At least he, Link, should be easy over time; his gut reactions, his instinct. He felt guilt at what the King had told him, so he knew his values were properly aligned. The magnetic pull towards the Castle he felt was a desperate urge to right what had gone wrong; it was the voices, now, the ones telling him you did this, that he had to push past.

So he began to walk, and focused on his surroundings.

The ruins were heartbreaking, yet full of life. Birds and bugs had made them their home, trees and plants began to grow within the stones. Monsters soured the experience, and Link soon found himself face-to-face with a creature twice the size of a Bokoblin, with a long snout and a spear rather than a sword. It shot at him with it, but thankfully was quite a bit slower, and Link was able to jump to the side and slash away at the body. It had more health than the others, but fell after a while nonetheless, and Link was nearly sweating at the end of it. He picked up new loot, and continued onwards, keeping an eye on his surroundings as the day slowly passed. He had found two shrines on his way; one almost directly on the path and another a little out of the way, surrounded by flowers and a lady very adamant about them, but he figured the spirit orbs were worth the detour. It was a relief, at least, to have found other Hylians.

It was a bigger world than he had imagined from the start. He passed over a large stone bridge, and spotted another man. Link waved hello in greeting, jogging to meet him, but the man didn't seem to be in good state. He was staring at the ruins of a Guardian nearby on the riverbed, and this one, Link noticed, had legs attached.

"This is the end… those towers popped up everywhere, and now the shrines are glowing…" the man was shaking. Link laughed.

"No, no, it's - fine -" he assured him, but stopped. How many people knew the legend that King Rhoam had told him? How many people were in this world, period? Did they know he had fallen in battle?

"What do you know?" the man asked suddenly, turning to look at him, and Link suddenly swallowed.

"Whatever it may be, I've been keeping an eye on that thing," he hissed, and Link followed his gaze to the ruins of the Guardian nearby. "I once had one come alive and start chasing me. I thought it was the end! But I managed to escape into the woods… It wasn't this one here, of course," he added, seeing the sudden look of concern on Link's face, "it was near the castle. There's many more there that are still awake. Just be careful out there."

The man then turned, and walked away. Link was pleased to see that there were indeed others here - the non-ghost type - but didn't have time to chat. He paused by the fire to take a bite of steak, and then kept moving. The tower was on the other side of the river, but Link wasn't confident in his swimming in such a strong current, so he hopped across Cryonisis towers instead.

The tower was guarded by some more bokoblins, but now there was a blue one tossed in the mix. The reds went down easy as ever, but the blue were more powerful, and as Link fought one, sword vs. sword, he found that it was more powerful than he had expected. It slashed him across his right arm, and he let out a yell from the pain, still trying desperately to hold his own sword up. Reverting to desperate measures, he kicked, and the monster toppled off the cliff behind itself, bursting into nothing at the bottom. Link grasped his wound then, dropping the sword he'd been carrying, and headed towards the fire. Tearing pieces from his old shirt, he wrapped his arm carefully, and then ate some fish. It seemed to do wonders for his wound, and though the pain would not completely go away, it was workable and no longer bleeding. There was something special about the nature of Hyrule; the food was enchantingly tasty, revitalizing, and unique in flavor. Perhaps he had just missed it after one hundred years away.

He parasailed to the tower then, latching immediately onto the side, and began heaving himself up. It took longer than he would have liked due to his aching arm, but reaching the top was a relief. It didn't feel as tall as it had felt while he was climbing; it was massively overshadowed by the dueling peaks directly above. From atop the tower, Link stared warily into the cavern between them. It was dark, but wide, broken by a fast flowing river.

Once his Sheikah Slate had registered the area, Link was surprised to see how much bigger it - West Necluda - was from the Great Plateau. All the same, Kakariko finally had a place on the map, and he could reach it by passing through the dueling peaks and then going north, just as the King had told him.

When he tucked away the slate and parasailed downwards, he followed an upper ridge through the cavern rather than opting for the road. Now and again he saw a light travel on it, or a horse, giving him relief that Hyrule was still more populated than he had assumed. He wasn't alone. The village would have amenities he could use, maybe… like a bath.

Two shrines later, Link had finally located the Dueling Peaks stables. Night was imminent, so he was relieved to see it, though a little perplexed; the building was in the shape of a horse's head. As he headed towards it, a couple men waved at him in greeting. There were a few people hanging around the stable, and Link was relieved to see warm beds beyond the doors.

"Hey! Need directions?" the first man asked, smiling as Link approached.

"Yeah, um - I have to get to Kakariko?" he asked, unsure if the man would know, but he responded cheerfully.

"Sure! You just follow this path, straight north. Can't miss it."

"That's great," Link said in relief, "thanks."

"I'd take a horse if I were you - my brother can board one for you, if you tame one and bring it over here."

Link was surprised to hear him mention horses, and looked at him quizzically; the man simply gestured out to the field where four wild horses were gathered. That would certainly make traveling a lot easier.

He received some instruction on how to tame a horse, and then struck out into the field as the sun set. Two of the horses were spotted, supposedly well-mannered breeds, but without the strength or stamina that came from the horses of just one colour. There was one black horse, and one blue one, but the black one was closer, so Link crept towards it. Now and again, their ears flicked from side to side, trying to listen for any threats, but the knight was quiet and paused when necessary. It took time before he was finally behind the stallion, and it was much bigger than anticipated, but Link jumped, grasping at its mane and swinging his legs over the body.

The horse bucked, neighing in offense at Link's efforts to calm it.

"Woah - woah there - ohhh oh oh," he said quietly, patting its neck as it began to calm. There was an immense power behind its muscles, and Link waited a moment for his energy to come back before trying to direct the steed in one direction or the other. It huffed as it moved, shaking its head in dissent and purposefully taking them in a separate direction, but over time became more agreeable. Finally, Link urged it to speed up, and it broke into a gallop.

The plains that spread out in front of him, then, reminded Link of his heartache. There must have been a hundred guardians, all dormant - or so Link hoped - tossed and left in the field, remnants of a battle he couldn't imagine. His horse slowed, and for a moment he sat, unknowingly looking upon the very battlefield he had died upon a century prior.

After a few moments of taking in the scenery, Link pulled the steed to the side and pushed the two of them towards the stable. Riding bareback wasn't easy, and he was wiped from a day of travelling, not to mention not much sleep from the previous night. An actual bed seemed like such a luxury, and Link was almost tempted to simply sleep in the grass instead. But it wouldn't do his body any good.

The man at the front helped him register his horse, which he named Horse, due to feeling quite sleep-deprived and unsure what else he would name it. He paid twenty rupees for the regular bed - it was all he had found on his travels so far - and crawled under the covers with a groan. The sound of the fire crackling, and soft mumbles of people nearby, was enough to put him to sleep immediately.

He had a nightmare that night. The moon, blood red and ominous, overlooked Hyrule and brought back to life the monsters he had killed; they came back, rejuvenated, like he had. Zelda had spoken to him in warning about it, urging him to be careful. Though he assumed it was a metaphor, when he woke in the morning and spoke to a man named Hino over some eggs for breakfast, he was assured it had not been a dream.

"What? The Blood Moon is a real phenomenon," Hino assured him, shaking his head and looking at Link seriously over the ridge of his glasses. "I devote my life to studying it… it's always on a full moon, but not every full moon. It brings back to life all the horrifying creatures Ganon created… living or mechanical." Hino shuddered. Link realised then, that Zelda's voice had not been part of his dream; she was legitimately warning him about the blood moon. In the course of just one knight, Ganon's strength had revitalized.

Link had to try to shake his nerves away as he took out Horse, and set off for Kakariko village. There were occasional enemies along the way, which he either fired arrows at or ignored completely. He didn't arrive until after lunch time, his stomach rumbling, and paused at the gates of the town to offer Horse an apple and eat one himself. The steed was grateful, clearly becoming more accepting of him as a rider, and waited patiently just past the town gates as Link proceeded.

Kakariko was a sight for sore eyes. A village, not developed, but not run-down, not in ruins. It had clearly been safe tucked away in the mountainside for over a hundred years. Lanterns were lit throughout the town, and the townspeople were all dressed very specifically. An older women near the gate called to him as he passed.

"Oh - a traveler?" she asked, and Link immediately ran to her, seeing that she was struggling to stand up. "Thank you, young one… I'm afraid my ankle was quite twisted there. May I ask, what is that you have on your hip?"

"Er - a Sheikah Slate," he said, somewhat unsure as to whether or not he should divulge the information. But the old lady's tiny eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together.

"You should speak with Impa. She lives under Lantern Falls, there," she replied, gesturing to a house at the edge of town. Just as King Rhoam said, he thought to himself, nodding in thanks to the woman after making sure she was okay on her own, and then jogging through town. There was an inn here as well, and a small statue of Hylia that Link felt drawn to as he made his way to Impa's house; he walked towards where it stood in the middle of the small pond, and shut his eyes in a moment of respect. What came next caught him completely off guard; she spoke to him.

"You who have conquered the shrines and claimed the Spirit Orbs… I can offer you great power. I can trade four spirit orbs for health or energy."

Link stared at the statue in shock, and dared not break whatever spell he had created by looking elsewhere to see if anyone had noticed the statue of Hylia actually speaking to him. Nonetheless, in his mind he chose stamina; and since he had eight spirit orbs, the health came next. He felt himself somewhat revitalized, with more energy than before, and realised for the first time how important those spirit orbs really were.

Impa's house was behind him now, and he headed towards it, but the guards in front of the steps immediately rested their hands on their weapons.

"Woah there! How dare you try to trespass upon Lady Impa's abode -"

"Dorian-" the one guard interrupted, "is that… the Sheikah Slate? But then, could it really be?"

A moment passed as the guards seemed to think among themselves. "Please accept our apologies, friend… we have heard the legends. Proceed," the first guard exclaimed, and Link didn't know what else to do but look at them sympathetically. Clearly the people here knew his Sheikah Slate. Did Impa have something to do with it?

"Please, go right ahead," the other guard said, and they each stepped aside to let him pass. As Link ascended the stairs, a girl at the top caught his eye, with white hair tied in an interesting up-do and big, brown eyes. She was scrubbing the wood, and as Link approached the doors, stood up quite suddenly and stared at him.

"A man!?" she exclaimed, covering her eyes, though it was painfully obvious that she was peeking through her fingers at him. "Huh - is that - the Sheikah Slate?" she asked, slowly removing her hands and looking at Link in confusion. "Could you be the hero my grandmother told me about? Oh no… what was his name… Li… Lin… ummmm…"

Cute, Link found himself thinking without being able to stop himself.

"No, can't be, I'm just not good at speaking… as for me, my name is Pa- pa- pa- Paya," she finally blurted out. "I know I should be able to speak it easily, seeing as it's my own name… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to say sorry," Link said without thinking. "I'm Link."

"Oh! So I did have it right? Almost…" she said excitedly. "Anyways, my grandmother has been waiting your return since I was little... please hurry inside." With that, the girl stopped talking. She clasped her hands in front of her and stared down at the floor instead of looking at Link - at all - so he went ahead and opened the doors. The two of them opened together, and the house ahead of him was so dim, he nearly didn't make out the figure at the end of the room.

Sitting atop three layered pillows was who he assumed could only be Impa. She was a small, older women, with a weighted hat on and a posture that told him she didn't… move… often.

"So, you're finally awake," she said quietly as he walked into the house. Her eyes landed on him, somewhat judgmental, but suddenly a smile broke on her features and she slapped her knee. "It's been a long time, Link. I am much older now, but… you remember me, don't you?"

He felt like stepping back. He really had lost all his memories. In front of him was someone he had known, personally, one hundred years ago, but now she was a complete stranger. The name Impa itself didn't ring any bells. He felt horrible.

"What's the matter?" she asked, clearly wise to his caution. "You're looking at me like I'm a stranger to you… those eyes lack the light of familiarity."

As she realised he longer remembered, she let out a sigh, and he came closer to her, hoping he could convey with his eyes how sorry he was that he had forgotten. In the back of his mind, he wondered how many times this would happen, or if he could ever recover his memories… at all.

"It is I, courageous one… Impa. Surely you must at least remember the name Impa?"

She raised one eyebrow at him, and still he said nothing, merely dipping his gaze to the floor.

"Rho- King Rhoam… told me your name," he admitted.

"I see!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "So you really have lost your memory. Well… it matters not," she digressed, though Link wanted to argue that. Of course it mattered! "In fact," she continued, "this may be a blessing in disguise for the time being. Dearest Link… come closer."

He did so, and Impa recalled a tale he had heard before.

"A hundred years ago… yes, a a hundred years ago, the kingdom of Hyrule was destroyed. After you fell, Princess Zelda's final wish was to place you in a sacred slumber. And then, all alone… she went to face Ganon. However, before she went nobly to meet her fate, she entrusted me with some words she wished to say to you. I have been waiting one hundred years to deliver her message. However!"

Impa suddenly leaned forward and it caught Link so by surprise, he nearly stepped backwards.

"These words which Princess Zelda risked her life to leave you… well, if you are to hear them, you must be willing to risk your life as well."

"Yes," Link replied briskly, and Impa looked at him expectantly.

"Some things don't change," she said with a mischievous smile, but then her expression dropped. "These words, I cannot pass on to someone who lacks conviction. Are you willing to risk your life for the greater good?"

"I am," Link said, more determination in his voice than ever.

"Ha! Not a memory to your name, but yet you are intent as ever to charge forward with only courage and justice on your side. You have not changed a bit. Once a hero, always a hero," Impa said with finality, and Link appreciated those words. Still, he did not know himself, but clearly his instincts and values were steering him in the right direction.

"Very well. Since you have lost your memory, I will recount all that has happened… The history of the royal family of Hyrule is also the history of Calamity Ganon, a primal evil that has been turned back time and time again by a warrior wielding the soul of a hero and a princess who carries the blood of a Goddess. With the passage of time, each conflict with Ganon faded into legend. So listen closely as I tell you of this legend that occurred ten thousand years ago.

"Hyrule was then blossoming as a highly advanced civilization. Even the most powerful monsters posed little threat to the denizens of the realm. The people thought it wise to utilize their technological prowess to ensure the safety of the land, should Calamity Ganon ever return. They constructed four mechanical wonders that came to be known as the Divine Beasts. They also built a legion of autonomous weapons called Guardians. The Divine Beasts were piloted by four individuals of exceptional skill from across the land… and thus, the plan to neutralize Ganon was forged. Upon Ganon's inevitable return to Hyrule, the princess and the hero fought alongside these for Champions against this ancient evil. The Guardians were tasked with protecting the hero, as the Divine Beasts unleashed a furious attack upon their terrible foe. And when the hero wielding the sword that seals the darkness delivered his final blow… the Princess used her sacred power to seal away Calamity Ganon."

Impa fell quiet. It was clearly a story of how things should have gone a hundred years ago, had Ganon not taken control of the machines, but once again Link had heard of the sword that seals the darkness and the soul of a hero; he knew for sure he didn't have the sword, and how to know if he wielded the soul of a hero, as well?

"A hundred years ago," Impa suddenly continued, "in preparation for the foretold revival of Ganon, we strove to follow the lead of our ancestors ten thousand years prior. But… in the end… despite our best efforts and careful planning, we underestimated his power. In order to avoid ever making that grave mistake again, the princess left you these words… Free the four Divine Beasts. That is what she said."

Link nodded. The beasts. He could do that, even though he had no real idea how.

"Also, Link… it seems your Sheikah Slate is not yet complete. The device Princess Zelda left you is your guide, and also your memory… Someone at the Hateno Research Lab should be able to help you."

"Hateno?" Link asked, tilting his head. If there was something the Sheikah Slate could do to help his memory, he was all for it. Impa gestured for the slate, and Link held it out to her carefully; she placed a marker to the east, in an unknown area of the map.

"It is a small village… one of the few places that avoided suffering significant damage during the Great Calamity," Impa nodded, and then looked upon Link with determined brown eyes.

"Now, go."

[ilduzamammadova]

Week 7

Monday

Art History With Theo

Impressionism

Fauvism

- Decorative approach (Mathese)

-  Strongly subjective

- Simple style situation

Notre Dame, Henri Mathese 1902

View of Collioure, Henri Mathese 1905

The young sailor I, II 1906

La Danse 1909

The Red Room  ( Harmony in Blue) 1908

Impressionism Van Gogh

- Expressionism (De)

- Raw, negative themes

- Sense expression

- Bold use and color gesture

Van Gogh, The Night Cafe 1888

Impressionism  Gauguin 

- Printirism

- Cubism

Paul  Gauguin, Yellow Christ 1889

Paul  Gauguin, Orana Maria 1892

Paul  Gauguin, Matamoe: Landscape with Peocooks 1892

Impressionism

- Cezanne, pastoral Secena 1870s

- Cezanne, Still Life with Cupic 1895

- Cezanne, Mt Saint Victoria 1885

- Cezanne, Detail, from St Victoria Chateau 1905

Colour as structure

- Breaking down the element and an image

- Study and multiple pes..

Cubism

- Factory at Horta de Ebro, 1909 by Pablo Picasso

- Demaislle dÁrignon, Picasso - 1907-1909

- Head of Woman, Picasso 1907

- Chokwe Mask - 19th century

- Braque, Piano and Mandolin, 1909

Tuesday

 LCP

with George Allen

I shared my ideas on John Lewis with George. My first idea is travel gift set.

DWR

OUTLINE FOR RESEARCH THESIS ESSAY 

TITLE OF RESEARCH THESIS:

I. (Introduction) The effects of visual language in children's perception of war studied through comparison of children's picture books published in the 20th and 21st centuries

A.

B.

C.

II.

A. War psychology

1. The effects of war on human psychology

2.

B. The effects of the war on children

1. Psychological effects

Psychological suffering. Children are exposed to situations of terror and horror during war – experiences that may leave enduring impacts in posttraumatic stress disorder. Severe losses and disruptions in their lives lead to high rates of depression and anxiety in war-affected children. These impacts may be prolonged by exposures to further privations and violence in refugee situations. - https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2080482/

To address the mental health needs of war-affected children as they relate to future peace building goals, international interventions are being established with a focus on the complex interplay between children’s psychological and social development. These “psychosocial” interventions support not just the emotional healing and development of compassion and empathy, but recognize the important dynamics between children and the social environment in which they form attachments, acquire a sense of belonging, and learn codes of pro-social behaviour.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/talking-about-trauma/201304/the-invisible-trauma-war-affected-children - Robert T. Muller, Ph.D.

This psychological damage will leave children to carry the burden of their war-torn childhoods for the rest of their lives. PTSD is often a corollary of growing up in war, especially in child soldiers. Bayer’s study of former child combatants in Uganda and the Congo shows that the average PTSD rate among those who had been abducted into groups like the Lord’s Resistance Army was 33 percent, compared to kids who had never been abducted at just over eight percent. Even worse, 48 percent of those who had been kept in the army for more than a month, possibly being made to fight or loot villages, had PTSD symptoms. Some studies show rates as high as 82 percent, but the fact remains that war is hugely traumatic for children, especially when they are directly affected.

 Children from war-torn backgrounds have a tendency to develop depression as a result of the horrific things they have seen. A study by Vinck in Northern Uganda found that slightly over half of abducted children had moderate to severe depression. Pfeiffer found that 16 percent of kids who were abducted were depressed and, of these, 34 percent were suicidal. For kids kept over a month rates were even higher, with 24 percent of the total group depressed and 37 percent suicidal.

 Psychologist Michael Wessells says, “One of the greatest effects I see on a day to day basis is a loss of hope. Once young people feel hopeless, they really do give up. They don’t take steps that might build a constructive future.” This is exemplified by the 60 percent of Rwandan children that have lost all will to create a stable future after the genocide.

On top of this, kids who are exposed to war at a young age are often afraid and more prone to panic attacks, anxiety disorders, bedwetting and nightmares. Ahilgova at the Alina camp for displaced persons says, “Some become frozen with fear at the mere sound of a helicopter rotor blade or airplane.” Daily life in a war zone leaves these children afraid for their lives even after they have left. -https://www.borgenmagazine.com/psychological-effects-war-children/

2. Physical effects

Death. Hundreds of thousands of children die of direct violence in war each year (2). They die as civilians caught in the violence of war, as combatants directly targeted, or in the course of ethnic cleansing.

 Injury. Children suffer a range of war injuries. Certain weapons affect them particularly. A landmine explosion is more likely to kill or seriously injure a child than an adult (3). Thousands of children suffer landmine injuries each year (4).

Disability. Millions of children are disabled by war, many of whom have grossly inadequate access to rehabilitation services. A child may have to wait up to 10 years before having a prosthetic limb fitted. Children who survive landmine blasts rarely receive prostheses that are able to keep up with the continued growth of their limbs.

Illness. Conditions for maintenance of child health deteriorate in war – nutrition, water safety, sanitation, housing, access to health services. There may be loss of immunity to disease vectors with population movement. Refugee children are particularly vulnerable to the deadly combination of malnutrition and infectious illness. There is also interruption of population immunization programs by war which may be responsible for increases in child mortality.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2080482/

3. Effects on daily life (education, family, environment)

Second, impacts in childhood may adversely affect the life trajectory of children far more than adults. Consider children who lose the opportunity for education during war, children who are forced to move into refugee or displaced person camps, where they wait for years in miserable circumstances for normal life to resume, if it ever does. Consider a child disabled in war; they may, in addition to loss of a limb, sight, or cognitive capacity, lose the opportunity of schooling and of a social life. A girl who is raped may be marginalized by her society and lose the opportunity for marriage. Long after the war has ended, these lives will never attain the potential they had before the impact of war.

Social and cultural losses. Children may lose their community and its culture during war, sometimes having it reconstituted in refugee or diaspora situations.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2080482/

III.

A. Illustration as a means of education and therapy

1. The effects of illustration on children's perception of the world around them

So Why Are Picture Books Important?

10. Chapter books are not necessarily more complex than picture books and in fact, their vocabulary and sentence structure can be considered simplistic when compared with older level picture books. Many picture books are written at a higher reading level, use amazingly complex vocabularies and offer interesting plots.

9. The illustrations of a picture book help children understand what they are reading and allow young readers to analyze the story. When children are having difficulty, the illustrations can help them figure out the meaning of what they are reading. The illustrations are also a powerful way to help English learners comprehend the story.

8. Children love art. Why do you think they spend so much time coloring, drawing and doing crafts? Whatever the reason children are drawn towards a book, it’s a means to get them to read.

7. Language:  Picture books allow children to practice the sounds of language and as parents it’s our responsibility to introduce new and interesting words at every opportunity. The rhythm and rhyme in many picture books make for great read-alouds and children learn words more easily when they hear them spoken often.

6. Repetition: The repetition in many picture books allows a child to participate in the story. Young readers get excited when they can anticipate a forthcoming line and children learn skills like phonemic awareness, phonics, comprehension and fluency.

5. Picture books are multi-sensory, which aids a child’s growing mind and stimulates their imagination. Not only do the children hear the story, they see the illustrations, and smell and touch the pages.

4. Picture books can be a useful tool for teaching the concept of cause and effect. Before reading a picture book to your children, tell them to listen for key words such as because, so, if, then, as a result of, etc. These types of words can usually be found in a story that has a cause and effect relationship. Learn more in this article at the Writing for Children Center: http://writingforchildrencenter.com

3. Picture books help develop story sense. Children learn the beginning, middle and end of a story and can often relate to the age-appropriate issues and conflicts presented in a picture book.

2. Picture books allow an entirely different, more interactive communication between parent and child. Picture books allow parents to spend time talking with their children about the story, pictures and words. This interaction builds reading comprehension. Picture books allow you to talk about what you see on each page, so be sure to talk about what happened in the story, ask about the characters, how they are feeling, and events that took place.

1. Picture books are fun and the key is to always make the reading experience fun and a time to look forward to. Reading should never be perceived as a chore. If you make reading a chore early on in a child’s development, they might grow to resent reading. Children who don’t naturally progress from picture books to chapter books may translate reading into working – more specifically, working that isn’t much fun.

It’s unfortunate that parents are pushing their kids past picture books, just as some turn up their noses at graphic novels and magazines. It’s important to encourage your kids to get their hands on everything they can, including picture books, comics, and even kid-friendly websites. It doesn’t matter what they read as long as they read and children who learn to love books will be children who grow up to be good readers.

https://www.thechildrensbookreview.com/weblog/2010/11/how-picture-books-play-a-role-in-a-child%E2%80%99s-development.html

2.

B.

1.

2.

3.

IV.

A. How war is depicted in children's picture books

1. Color

2. Style

3. Technique

B. How these books affect children's perception of war.

1.

2.

3.

C. Comparison of Children’s picture books about war written in 20th and 21st centuries

1. Color and style

2. Technique

3. How they are perceived by children (show the books to kids and get their opinion)

V. (conclusion)

A.

B.

C.

Research

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38659075-the-day-war-came#other_reviews

I got a lot of drawings about the war from children in my country. 

Creative Improvisation in Design Process Helena J, Wednesday

[therealsymmetra]

Angler

“You’re lurking.”

          “Am not.”

          Nema sighed, attempting to gather the maps she had sprawled over the library table. She hadn’t heard when Nico came in or when he stopped to lean up against a bookcase beside her, but when he sighed heavily she had attempted to keep herself from jumping.

          “Is there something you need?” She asked, rolling the papers only to have them slip and scatter from her hands and onto the floor. Nema watched with dejected, slumped shoulders as they fluttered across the room, some slipping under a nearby bookcase. Only when they had all settled did she slowly start picking them up, a hand coming into view holding a neatly folded tidal map. Nema took it with a quiet ‘thank you’ before tucking it under her arm.

          “Going on a trip?” Nico asked, sounding only halfway interested in his own question.

          “Maybe…” Nema said, not meeting his eye even as he moved to follow her out into the hallway.

          “Maybe? You’re not sure?” He snorted at that, Nema’s temper flaring for a moment.

          “Why do you care?” She snapped turning to him, deflating after she did.

          Nico put his hands up in defense, Nema letting go of a heavy sigh before looking down at the notes she had taken.

          “I’m going home,” she said softly.

          “Aren’t we… at home?”

          “No, not here. I mean like, back to my home. Back to Linmell.”

          “Really? The ghost town?”

          “It’s my hometown.” Nema’s voice had dropped to something almost inaudible.

          “Oh… sorry.” Nico said.

          “Why would you want to go back?” Nico asked after a brief silence.

          Nema gave him a wary look and he noticed the circles under her eyes.

          “Aren’t Arryn and Ailith going with you then?”

          Nema bit back the urge to snap at him again, pain beginning to thrum in her temples.

          “No.”

          “The last time we were there we almost died in a pit under a house and now we know about the Clan and… I’m not putting them in that kind of danger for something so…” she couldn’t find the right words, trivial? Unimportant? No, it was important to her. Selfish maybe.

          “Well, those woods you had marked on your map-“ Nico plucked one of the pieces of paper from her arms.

          “Is infested with undead. I wouldn’t recommend going there, at least not alone.”

          Nema squinted at the red circled on the map that he held out in front of her.

          “No, that’s not right. Our woods were warded, just like anywhere else. And we’re by the sea, the undead don’t venture all that close.”

          “Things have changed, I wouldn’t venture out there if I were you.”

          Nema’s shoulders drooped, her brow creasing as she halfheartedly took the map from him.

          “But… I need to.”

          “What’s so important out there?”

          Nema went quiet again, chewing at her lip.

          “Look, all I’m saying is that’s a suicide run,” Nico sighed and folded his arms over his chest, watching Nema as she seemed to mull over his words.

          “Fine. Come with me then,” she said.

          Nico quirked an eyebrow, but something about his expression, maybe it was the way he tried to suppress a smirk that made Nema think that was what he had wanted.

          “Am I going to have to pay you for this?” She asked, continuing on her path to the stairs.

          “I’ll give you the friends and family rate,” Nico said, stopping at the bottom as Nema began to ascend, pausing for a moment to throw him a look.

          “And how much is that going to cost me?”

          “Dibs on any loot we find along the way. And I get second watch during then night.” He turned to leave, heading for the courtyard.

          “You know you could have just said you were going stir crazy.” Nema called after him only to receive a middle finger in response.

+++

          “Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?” Arryn kept pace with Nema as she headed down the dock, dressed in casual clothing, a book tucked under her arm, Ailith stood balancing on the railing, talking with Nico as he moved about the deck.

          “I always need you beside me Arryn but for now… It’s just a short trip. It won’t be dangerous, Nico will help guide me and we’ll be back within the week.”

          “Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

          Nema paused, watching the two on the boat before turning to Arryn. She reached into her pack and pulled out a small bundle of objects tied with twine.

          “In my village we have a memorial for those who have passed. We cremate their remains, we always have, even before the plague. But to honor their memory and comfort the grieving there was a private spring in the woods, only about a day’s journey out. There you could set up a plot to leave things, and since—since my mother died during the siege of the village I’ve never really had closure. So I’m going to set something up for her, I know it might seem silly but—I just—“ Arryn took her hand, Nema meeting her eye as she did.

          “It’s not silly, if it’s important for you to do this then I respect that. Be safe, okay?”

          Nema smiled, nodding as she placed the bundle back into her bag.

          “Okay, stay out of trouble while I’m gone then,” Nema said as she pulled Arryn into a hug.

          “We’ll try.”

          “Ailith, c’mon, they need to go!” Arryn called as she released Nema from the hug.

          Ailith leap skillfully from the railing of the boat to the dock, barely making any noise as she did.

          “Be safe.” She said as she enveloped Nema in her arms, Nema squeezing her lightly before taking a step back.

          “I always am.”

          “You’re not a good liar.” Ailith punched her lightly on the arm, Nema grinning at her as she headed towards the gangplank.

          “Don’t burn the keep down while we’re gone!” Nema called over her shoulder.

          “No promises!”

          Nico pulled the plank on board as Nema waved to them, watching as they slowly began to fade into the distance. It was odd having another person onboard, she had completely expected to go it alone, but she wasn’t completely adverse to the idea of not being on her own for the long two week journey back to her village. She hoped Nico was wrong, she hoped that when they got there, when they reached the edge of the forest and delved into the trees that it would be peaceful. She knew however that Nico was a ranger, he knew the woods, and as much as Nema wanted to believe that she knew her home better than anyone she acknowledged it had been much too long since she had properly spent anything longer than a few hours there. Either way, even if there were undead in the forest she was sure the two of them could handle it.

          “The skies are looking clear, maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll get there sooner than we thought,” Nico called from the bow, Nema humming a reply she knew he couldn’t hear. Nema made her way to the upper deck, letting the wind blow over her face and through her hair, for a moment she imagined she was back home, back on her father’s boat, her mother and Darya standing on the dock waving them off. But this was her reality now, being seen off by her new family, and while it wasn’t like it used to be, it was still good. Still home.

+++

          Although the seas weren’t as friendly as the first day they set off it was by no means unmanageable, the winter was only just beginning to thaw up North and the seas were still restless from the storms. Nema found herself being nudged awake at midnight by Nico who told her that the docks were in sight. Rolling off of the bunk, body still exhausted from being pelted with ice cold rain, she made her way to the now surprisingly quiet deck. The sky had cleared, the moon and stars shining brightly down on the craft, the only sound was the distant crashing of the waves on the rocks.

          “We should dock and tie off for the night. We can sleep fully for now, get our strength up before we head out.” Nico said, Nema still quiet as she watched the walls of her village come into view in the moonlight.

          “That sounds good.” She said, her voice raspy from yelling over the sound of rain. Silence hung between them, the creaking of the boat beneath their feet filling it for a moment before Nico spoke again.

          “You still up for it?”

          Nema nodded.

          “Okay. Get rest then, we’ll need it.” Nico nudged her with his elbow, Nema only swaying slightly before heading back to her bunk, pausing in the doorway.

          “Thank you,” she said.

          “Eh, shut up,” he replied shaking his head, Nema smiling at him before heading off to sleep.

          Nema found herself lying awake, the bundle of shells, pearls and driftwood hanging from the bed pole nearby. She watched it sway, gently and quietly clinking against the wood. Around the top of it was the blanket pin her mother used to wear, lovely brown and blue beads strung together and tied at the top of the small net of items. It was all she had left, and while she wanted to cling to it, to keep it as a reminder, she knew she wanted to do better than that in remembrance. Her mother would have wanted to be at the spring. Nema wasn’t sure when she drifted off, or if she had just closed her eyes for a moment before Nico was shaking her awake again.

          “Suns up, we should probably head out,” he said, gathering his things from where he had been storing them beneath an adjacent bunk.

          Nema sat up, bleary eyed as she stretched out her stiff arms.

          “How’s the weather looking?” She asked.

          “Clear, for now at least. There are clouds on the horizon, moving this way, but if we head out now we might beat it out there.”

          Nema nodded, pulling the blanket Darya had given her around her shoulders and setting the memorial bundle in her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

          “Then let’s head out.”

          Linmell was like it had been when she last saw it, nearly every building looking like a forgotten shack, left for the elements to eat at. It was strange, like seeing the skeletal remains of a person, you know they used to contain life, they lived and breathed but now they were just rubble left to decay. Nema could hear her heart beating in her chest, a loud thrumming which was the only thing that made her feel like she was still in her body, the only thing that made this all seem real and not like some nightmare she kept reliving. Beyond the village she could see the forest, before it used to call to her to explore it, to run through the trees with Darya playing pretend when they should have been helping their parents at home. Everything was ghost like, only memories lived there now.

          “According to your map it shouldn’t take more than a day to get out there. Should be simple enough if the undead aren’t too much.”

          Nema jumped slightly, forgetting once again that Nico had come with her.

          “Before I left, before… all this, the trails out there were well protected, well warded.”

          “No one has been around to maintain those wards though. Rangers don’t tend to venture that close to the village either so the trails might be overgrown.”

          Everything seemed to be a reminder of how the village of Linmell seemingly ceased to exist overnight. Did anyone but the survivors and herself even care? She tried to remember her return, tried to remember what it felt like to hear that Linmell was no longer a suitable place to dock. Was she angry? Was she sad? Was she guilty? She wasn’t sure. There was a lot of drinking involved, a lot of waking up in a strangers arms and trying to figure out how she got there. That was all before she finally got herself together, before Arryn and Ailith and Nico and Kol. Before Si and Lenna. Before she found home again. Nema shuttered at the memories, remembering why she always tried to forget them.

          Nema led Nico through where the fishing families used to live, the town square, by the meeting hall and rich district where she, Arryn and Ailith discovered the knife, making sure to give a wide birth to the house they had ventured under. The forest was beyond that, up a slight incline that overlooked the village. She could see the trailhead, a small sign that now sat lopsided against a tree. Nico had been right, the trail itself was overgrown with two years of underbrush and weeds.

          “You know you still haven’t told me why we’re going into the forest in the first place.” Nico said.

          “If you’re unsure you can stay back at the boat. Probably too personal for your tastes anyways.” Nema shrugged.

          Nico brought his hand to his chest in mock hurt “And I thought we were getting along.”

          “Shut it,” Nema shoved him slightly, the ranger barely stumbling an inch as they waded through the forest.

          “I mean if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, just know if we’re in the process of getting eaten I will want to know what was so important before I die.”

          Nema sighed “Fine. You want to know so badly?” She stopped walking, folding her arms across her chest.

          “Not really.” He said continuing on ahead of her.

          Nema rolled her eyes at him, sticking her tongue out at his back.

          “We’re going to the remembrance spring.” Nema said, Nico pausing to look back at her.

          “For my mother,” she continued.

          “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

          “Why are you such an asshole sometimes?”

          “Because, otherwise people get too touchy feely. Arm’s length is a good distance.”

          “You know what I think?” Nema asked, trotting up beside him as they walked.

          “I don’t really want to know.”

          “I think you’re scared of getting attached to people. But—“ “-There’s always a but.”

          Nema punched him lightly in the arm.

          “But, I think you want companionship.”

          Nico snorted.

          “The forest is my companion, doesn’t whine, doesn’t prod, doesn’t—“

          “Doesn’t die?”

          Nico opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead he looked away. Silence fell between the two of them. She felt somewhat bad for the comment.

          “You know, I understand the appeal of the forest to you.”

          Nico didn’t reply, his expression exceedingly neutral.

          “I feel the same way about the ocean and the sky. It’s always there. It was there before you it’ll be there after you’re gone. You won’t be the one to have to say goodbye.”

          “Shh.” Nico stopped suddenly.

          “You know it’s okay to admit you have feelings. You’re only hum—“

          Nico seized Nema’s arm, a hand going over her mouth as he nearly threw the two of them into the brush beside the trail. Nema wanted to react, to elbow him in the ribs, but then she heard something. It was a humming, low and soft, something like a child’s voice, it was comforting really the more Nema listened to it. Nema wrenched Nico’s hand from her face, trying to turn and look at him.

          “What is that?” She whispered.

          “It’s bad.”

          “Thank you for that, now, what is it?”

          Nico didn’t answer and Nema’s jaw clenched, there was something about his silence that made her blood run cold. The humming was getting louder, the sound no longer coming from one point but multiple. Panic was rising in Nema’s gut, she wasn’t exactly sure why however, she felt a moderate amount of safety, they were beside the trail, Nico was with her, it was daylight. The only disconcerting thing about the whole situation was the humming. By the time it felt close enough to just be on the other side of the bank they had hidden themselves behind Nema’s palms were sweating, her heart was racing and there was a strange ringing in her ears. Run. Nema blinked a few times, unsure as to who had said that. Run or you will certainly die. Nema pulled away from Nico who had been peering out over the embankment, his hand on her shoulder. Run, run now, before it’s too late. There was the sound of something crashing beside them, big and heavy, Nema’s vision was swimming and her head was throbbing but she needed to get out of there. She took off at a full sprint into the woods, adrenaline fresh in her blood, the feeling of something only inches off her back reaching for her spurring her on. It felt like when she was a kid and she and Darya would chase each other, that feeling of someone behind you ready to pounce on you. But then it had been a game, now it was so very real. She heard her name being called behind her, nearly drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She took a right, bounding over a fallen tree and across a creek. Was it getting darker out? Was the storm moving in? Or was it just her vision.

          Nema dared a glance over her shoulder, finding only twisting woods as far as she could see. Suddenly the ground wasn’t there anymore, her foot instead slipping on an incline. She fell forward, attempting to catch herself on the dirt in front of her only to start to roll off. She let out a sharp cry, squeezing her eyes shut before something caught her, a hand with a fist full of her shawl.

          “What the fuck are you doing?!” Nico hauled her up.

          Nema swaying slightly only for Nico to steady her by her shoulders. Nema’s head whipped around as she scanned their surroundings. To her left was a hill, while it wasn’t too steep to begin with it dropped off after a few feet and ended in a shallow stream where various boulders, rocks and fallen trees were piled. To her right was the rest of the forest, completely empty and quiet, no darkness, no whistling.

          “I thought… I thought I was going to die.” She said, figuring she should be honest at this point.

          “I mean it would have hurt but it’s not that big of a drop.”

          “No no,” Nema swatted him away from her, pacing back towards where she had come from.

          “I thought something was coming for us, I thought… I swore…”

          “That why you up and bolted into the forest?”

          “The whistling, what was it?” Nema asked, turning to him.

          “What whistling?” Nico cocked and eyebrow, true concern beginning to cloud his somewhat annoyed expression.

          “The whistling, the reason you threw us into a bush.”

          Nico stared at her for a moment before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

          “I pulled us off the trail because a bear cub had wandered onto the path, I didn’t want the mother to rip our heads off because we got too close.”

          It was Nema’s turn to stare at him, eyes wide and brow creased. How could he have not heard it? It was all she could hear and it was coming from everywhere.

          “The crashing beside us? You didn’t hear that?”

          Nico took a step towards her, squinting at her and taking her in like he was looking for something.

          “Did you hit your head on something?” He reached out to touch her, Nema flinching away from him, irritability from his disbelief rising in her gut.

          “No, I didn’t. Just forget about it. It doesn’t matter. Let’s go, we’re losing daylight.”

          Nema pushed past him, finding her footprints easily enough, Nico quietly watching her as she made her way back to the trail. The trip back was longer than Nema expected, she hadn’t realize how far she had ran until she was following her own footsteps. Nico kept quiet, letting her lead them, the desire to talk to him having left Nema completely. Before stepping out onto the trail Nico motioned for her to wait, peering out to make sure the coast was clear.

          “Look, there,” Nico climbed out over the bushes before squatting in the road.

          “See? Bear tracks.”

          Nema stared at them, still unwilling to believe that that was what he had them hiding from.

          “Okay.” She said simply before trudging ahead, Nico rolling his eyes at her back.

          The trip was silent, the sound of birds and other wildlife their only company which was fine with Nico. Nema pulled off her shawl as she began to get too warm, picking the burrs out of the bottom of it. It wasn’t long before the sun began to set.

          “I thought you said there would be more undead here.” Nema finally said, breaking the silence that had hung between the two of them for so long.

          “From what I heard we should have seen some by now.” Nico sounded genuinely confused almost to the point of sounding disappointed.

          “Maybe your intel was wrong,” Nema said.

          “Maybe we’re not deep enough yet.”

          “You want to see undead?” Nema asked.

          “No.” Nico’s tone was flat, completely unjoking.

          “We should be almost there, the last time I walked this trail we were there by now.”

          Nema hadn’t been sure if it was the fact she hadn’t been home in two years or the overgrowth but something about the trail had seemed wrong but she could never put her finger on it. The forest sounded like a regular forest, the trees, brush and bushes were all normal looking and native to the area, the sun shone through the trees and every now and then she could hear a stream nearby. Everything was just normal. Maybe that was it, maybe it was too normal, but that just seemed silly.

          “Well if it gets any darker I think we should camp for the night,” Nico suggested.

          “We’re almost there, I promise.”

          Nema was starting to feel desperate, like she had something to prove. This was her home, she had to know it better than he did right? Nema huffed, picking up her pace despite her aching feet. But even as they seemed to make some kind of headway by the time the sun dipped behind the horizon and the forest had become bathed in darkness there was no sign of the spring.

          “There’s supposed to be markers, even if the wards didn’t hold there should be some sign, some indication that we’re close.”

          “Nema, please. Let’s just rest, if we really are close we’ll get there in the morning.”

          Nico had already started to clear out a small area beside the road for them to set up a fire and camp for the night. Nema sighed before moving to help him. She was still upset about him not believing her, but the more she thought about it the more muddled her memory of the whistling and the voice and the fear became. It was starting to feel more like a dream than anything else. Nema set out her bedroll, pulling out a bundle of dried meat to snack on while she and Nico gathered wood. When the fire was set night had settled in proper, the stars could barely be seen through the thick branches of the trees.

          “Hey, if you really did hear something… just let me know next time okay?” Nico said as he prodded at the fire.

          “I did Nico, I heard it.”

          “Okay okay, I believe you. Just don’t take off running without me next time.”

          “Yeah, okay.” Nema said nodding.

          “You okay with first watch?” He asked.

          “Yeah, that’s part of your pay right?” Nema said with a smirk.

          Nico laughed lightly before laying back, propping himself up in the roots of a tree.

          “Yeah, yeah I said that didn’t I?”

          “Shut up and go to sleep already.” Nema said, tossing a pebble at him.

          “Fine fine jeez, moody.”

          Nico rolled over and Nema was alone. She had never been afraid of the dark, not really, but there was something about the way it felt so heavy at that moment. Maybe it was the thought that undead really were nearby they had just been lucky enough not to see any, or maybe it was the thought that their luck might run out soon. Nema pulled her shawl in close, deciding to work on a woven bracelet she had brought with her, busying her hands and mind in order to pass the time. The problem was the more she focused the more she wanted to close her eyes, her head feeling fuzzy, almost like it had when she had heard the whistling before.

          “Nico?” she called quietly, sure he hadn’t already passed out, only to have no response.

          “Hey, numbskull,” she said a little bit louder.

          Her eyelids were beginning to droop, her muscles feeling exhausted and immoveable. She was starting to slump forward and despite the unnatural feeling of it all she couldn’t help but feel extremely calm and relaxed. By the time she had fully laid over she had passed out.

+++

          Nema shot up, eyes wide as she heard a deafening scream. She blinked away the sleep, adrenaline rushing back into her veins as she searched the darkness around her. Nico was gone, the campfire nearly burnt out. How had she let herself fall asleep? She was supposed to be watching, she never fell asleep on watch. Nema pushed herself up, moving to where Nico had been asleep the last time she saw him.

          “Nico?” She called, voice raspy and throat dry.

          Panic began to set in, who had screamed? Her question was answered as another scream bit through the night air. Nema took off running, this time with a destination in mind.

          “Nico!”

          She could hear him, he was shouting, he sounded like he was in pain.

          “Nico!” Her voice broke harshly, fear seizing her.

          Had he been right? Had she let undead drag him away when she was supposed to be watching? Another shout, this one was scared, no, terrified. She had never heard him like that before, sick, angry, cocky, whatever, but never like this, not this desperate. Tears stung her eyes as she searched the darkness, still following where the voice had last come from. Ahead of her was a clearing, the trees parting way until finally Nema burst into the moonlight. It was the spring, but it was nothing like she remembered. It was a large formation of stone and rock with a pool of water beneath it, a small trickle coming from the cracks of the rocks; around it were old stone markers where people who had left remembrances, but they were decimated, knocked over, old offerings smashed and scattered. The most distinct change however was even as the silvery blue moon reflected in the spring, the water was clearly a deep dark red. Nema tore her eyes away from it, searching what once was a sacred place for Nico. She saw him, shoved up against the rocky wall, hands over the back of his head, he was hunched over cowering, shouting and screaming like he was being attacked. Nema rushed to his side, pulling him back by his shoulder. He swiped at her, shoving her back, fighting her off but Nema kept a strong hold on him.

          “Run, you need to run!” He was nearly begging her.

          “Nico, Nico open your eyes, look at me.” Nema tried to steady him, a flickering of faerie fire lighting up the spring around them.

          Nico calmed slightly, at least he had stopped thrashing, he still muttered, still insistent that she needed to run.

          “Nico, you’re safe,” Nema finally said, shaking him slightly.

          Nico’s eyes snapped open, his entire body rigid and in the light Nema swore she saw something like tears on his cheeks although she couldn’t be certain.  

          “Are you okay?” Nema asked.

          Nico sat up before pushing past her, looking around the clearing.

          “The undead.” He said quietly.

          “What?”

          “You didn’t see them when you came?”

          “Nico, what is going on?” Nema asked.

          “The hoards… they… they’re gone.”

          “What are you talking about?”

          Nico strode up to her, his entire demeanor changed.

          “This isn’t a fucking joke Nema.” He said, his jaw set tight.

          “I’m not joking Nico, there are no undead.”

          He seemed irritated, almost as if he were angry at her, he paced away, looking around where they were. He was searching for something, tracks by the look of it.

          “I swore—I know—“ Nico held his head, eyes pinched shut in a painful manner.

          Nema wandered the perimeter, looking for any signs that he had in fact been attacked. Even as she had woken him she found no signs of damage on his body or his clothing. Nema stopped, scanning their surroundings when something caught her eye. It was bright white and small, a dress laying in the brush not far from them just off to the right of the spring. The sound of humming from earlier began to fill her ears again.

          “Nico.” She called to him.

          As she grew closer she realized it wasn’t just a dress, it was a body. Small, childlike, laying face down.

          “Nico a child.” She said rushing to its side.

          Nico turned to her, squinting through the faerie fire and moonlight at what she was crouched over. Something about it wasn’t right, the more he stared the more wrong it looked.

          “Nema don’t-!” Before he could get to her Nema reached out, her hand grabbing ahold of the child’s shoulder.

          Before she could even blink the body in front of her was yanked away, almost as if it were dragged into the forest. She fell backwards onto her hands, watching the darkness it had just disappeared into. Her stomach churned, the smell of rotting flesh suddenly burst through the air as something roared. It was undead. Nema scrambled backwards, looking for any sign of what had just made the noise, Nico grabbed her arm making her jump. He hauled her to her feet and by the time she returned to searching the darkness a huge lumbering figure appeared. It was grotesque in nature, nearly the size of Nema’s boat. What looked like a withering corpse headed it while various parts and pieces of undead clung to its sides and torso, below it, where the corpse’s legs should be was some kind of appendage which attached to the body of a child, the one Nema had mistaken for a living person. Its body stretched out behind it, made from various muscles, skeletons and organs of long dead creatures it had seemed to collect. It was like some kind of undead angler fish, luring in unsuspecting passersby with its decoy.

Nema let out a scream as she staggered backwards, Nico yanking her away as a sinewy arm came crashing down, an amalgamation of screams and groans emanating from the creature. Its claws caught her shoulder, digging into her flesh as Nico tore her away from it. They stumbled forward, Nema cradling her arm as they raced for the trail.

“What is it?” Nema screamed as they burst out onto the trail.

“Whatever it is it’s too big to fight.” Nico had an arm around Nema as they arm, hot blood pooling in her hand as she clutched her arm. Her vision was blurring, the humming was louder than before.

Suddenly she was jerked sideways, Nico had fallen beside her, something wrapped around his ankle. He made it to his hands and knees before turning to fire an arrow back behind them. Nema couldn’t see the strange tentacle that had grabbed him in great detail and she was somewhat grateful for that feeling as if it would have probably churned her stomach. Nema fired off lightning back in its direction, the crackling bolts lighting up the trail. It was then she saw that it was attempting to chase them, dragging itself along the dirt and wailing at them. Nema brought the spear down on the appendage, Nico hissing in pain as he unwrapped it from his leg, what looked like acid burns melting through his pants and into his skin.

“Can you walk?” Nema asked pulling him up beside her.

“I can do more than that.” He said.

They took off at a run, the humming in Nema’s ears getting further and further off only to have pain begin to bloom in her temples.

“Something’s wrong,” Nico said through clenched teeth.

“I can feel it too.” Nema said, holding her head as she tried to keep track of the trail in front of them.

What felt like a bolt of electricity surged through her head making her stumble and stop. She shoved her hands into her eyes, feeling the cooling blood smear across her forehead as she did.

“It burns,” Nico said beside her, hissing in pain as he too faltered.

When Nema opened her eyes again she stumbled backward, a scream caught in her throat as what looked like a massacre unfolded in front of her. Bodies, all in various forms of decay were sprawled out on the trail. Dismembered, bloated, half eaten, every inch made her want to vomit.

“What happened?” She said, her voice breaking harshly.

She blinked, the vision seemed to shift and shimmer, like a mirage would, but every time she tried to make it go away it wouldn’t stay gone for long.

“We need to push through, ignore it. It’s not real.” Nico said, taking her by the arm and dragging her forward.

Every sense in Nema’s body was reinforcing that what she was seeing was true. The sight, the smell, the sound, it all felt too real.

          “C’mon Nema, keep walking.” Nico said.

          Nema didn’t even see him anymore and for a moment she wondered if he was seeing what she was. Whatever the case his hand on her arm was all that was keeping her grounded. She didn’t remember how far she walked or how many times she retched. It seemed the creature they had encountered couldn’t move very far from its nest or whatever it called home, but its attack had some kind of lasting effect.

          The next time Nema opened her eyes she wasn’t sure where she was, she smelt meat cooking which was a welcome change to the last thing that had filled her nose. She was propped up in a corner, wrapped in her shawl, arm bandaged tightly. An ocean breeze blew through the drafty structure cooling her clammy skin. Nema attempted to move, her whole body aching horribly as she did.

          “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Nico said.

          He was sitting by a fire not far from her, the smoke billowing out of the fallen in roof above them. His leg was bandaged, several empty bottles of something sitting by his side and a medical kit lay open there as well. He was cooking some kind of meat and he looked pale.

          “Where… are we?” Nema asked, surprised at how wrecked her voice sounded.

          “Linmell. Had to drag you the last half mile. I think you threw up the last three day’s worth of food.”

          Nema let herself relax back into the corner of the room. The house around them was mostly framing, the wood that would have made solid walls mostly rotted out and weather worn. She stretched her legs out in front of her, flexing her toes and listening to her hips pop.

          “Did you not see them?” she asked quietly.

          Nico was quiet for a moment before responding.

          “I’ve seen a lot of death. It wasn’t something new.”

          Nema watched him as he worked at the fire, a jolt of empathy running through her. She really didn’t know all that much about him, but from what she did, he must have gone through hell.

          “Are we leaving?” Nema asked.

          “What, you don’t wanna stay?” Nico asked, lighthearted once again.

          Nema flipped him off, her hand barely coming out of the blanket before returning to its warmth.

          “We can leave once you’ve eaten.”

          Nema nodded, turning her attention elsewhere.

          “Are you okay?” she asked after a moment.

          “You know that thing nearly tore your arm off right? You shouldn’t be asking if I’m the one that’s okay.” Nico said.

          “In the clearing, you were screaming like you were being torn apart.”

          Nico’s lazy smile seemed to waver slightly as he turned back to the fire.

          “It was nothing.” He said “Just a nightmare.”

[kesselrunweekly-blog]

If You Love Something, Let It Go

Love Something

She had heard the hushed rumors and half spoken truths. An ancient enemy of the Jedi was returning. Everyone denied this officially. She knew better. Dag sat drooling in his makeshift bed as the Jedi visitor explained why he needed to take the child. His silken words offered no hesitation or guilt as he spoke.

“He must come with us for his own safety. We can protect and provide in this unsure world.”

She could hear her voice breaking as she attempted to wrench the words from her throat, “But how could he be in danger? We will care for him, raise him, and allow him to have a normal life. We don’t want a Jedi’s life for him.”

His rebuttal was swift and calm, “I’m sorry, but you must understand that a normal life is beyond anyone’s ability to give him at this point. His powers will only grow, and without the Order to guide him, he could become a danger to himself and those around him.”

She didn’t really hear anything else, except for her own voice from somewhere in the distance saying that she would always do what’s best for him. She watched through blurry vision as the Jedi whisked away her only child. The numbness in her body was only broken by the pain in her hands. She looked down and realized they were bleeding from the fingernails that she dug into them.

Life Moves Forward

She thought the next few days would never end. The HoloNet had been abuzz as it flooded the Outer Rim with the news that war had been declared and a clone army secured. The Jedi were thrust into a life of war and chaos. Pottery crashed, and her husband roared. He would never forgive her for what she had done.

She persevered through the heartache. As the years lurched on, she resigned herself to her reality. However, she knew that the Jedi would protect Dag as he was now one of their own.

Those years aged her.  How many had it been now? Was it 3? Was it 6? She couldn’t remember as she shoved the thought out of her mind and the scalding water that dyed the fabrics penetrated her hands.

She began to imagine that there were people screaming in the distance like it had so many times before. It grew louder in her mind until she realized that it wasn’t in her mind. It was in her ears. This time, it was real.

Order 66

Fear and dread propelled her forward. When she reached the town square, villagers were gathered around the HoloNet for what seemed like an eternity. What the news delivered was brief but impactful.

“The Jedi have turned against the Senate and committed treason. Drastic measures required the Republic to terminate all Jedi. If you see or hear of any Jedi in your area, proceed with caution and contact…” The images were clear and brutal. That was obviously the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. The smoke rose, and people continued to scream.

When she awoke in the middle of the road, she forced herself to her feet. How she got here, she couldn’t remember. The square was deserted. Buildings had signs of being looted and burned.

What has happened here? The smell of smoke triggered her memory, and she fell in devastation. The cycle completed itself while she attempted to come to grips with the fact that she failed her son. He was gone. There was nothing that she could do. Her heart felt as if it would burst.

The End is Swift

Time has no meaning anymore nor does food or water. Days blended, and nights swept her away into a sea of her own nightmares. She could vaguely recognize her own reflection as she waded into the lake. The water was frigid, and as she began to lower herself, there was something happening in her body that she had only felt once before.

That memory was vivid and painful. How could her own mind be so very cruel? She felt it again. There was a slight thump in her stomach. It was so faint that she didn’t even know if it was real. It surely was simply her body fighting back.

Her vision went gray, and she saw herself from the inside. It was dark and cold. She was scared, and the only person that she had was about to end everything. Her everything didn’t even know she was there. But she was.

She popped up out of the water with the last of her strength. There was no choice in this. Something had stirred in her the idea that life wasn’t to end here and now. The feelings of loss and fear weren’t hers in her vision but that of the one growing inside of her.