#like. if i just read this without any knowledge of the locked tomb series i would not be able to guess the context

[rottingsoftly]

I totally get it tho. If i had a hot necromancer i'd let her take a bite out of me or whatever

[0w0]

Made a post on Reddit of tlt theories I have, here's it:

But here it is under a read more so you don't have to suffer. I'd really love to hear everyone's thoughts!

Ianthe, Lychtorhood(s), the Tower, the Trinity, Ba & Ka, Vriska

Inb4; I'm an audiobook listener so my spellings are probably not right

[ Not Vriska ]

I'm a broken record when it comes to finding all of the little homestuck things in the locked tomb, and Ianthe seems ofc Very Serket-y. So my unironic but absolutely crack theory is that she's going to end up having a hand in bringing the story to its climax but in a way that could be considered either heroic or aligning with the protagonist, even if that's not the spirit of what she's doing. "Protagonist" being Alecto over all, not Harrow, not Gideon.

[ Motivation ]

I genuinely think Ianthe wants knowledge and power But not because she wants to be God to everyone, I think she wants to be God to herself (and of course however that plays into her enmeshment with Corona), looking back on how she always had to play second fiddle to Corona ineveryone's eyes, she was a puppet master further puppeted by her parents who obviously gave her a lot of issues. I genuinely believe she hates herself, and just looking for anything to fill that void.

[ Tower ]

I haven't read very many other theories on the Tower, But because the afterlife we've seen is referred to as the river, I believe it is a lighthouse allegory, meant to guide all of the souls who have been lost, straying, and absolutely ravenous. "Jewel or gleam of a smile" gives me very "beam of light" energy, I believe Ianthe will have some kind of end as a ferryman or harbinger, becuase John never was - he was just vindictive as a god.

[Types of Lychtor]

💙1) Swaparoo; John and Alecto - the switched souls or essences, something that traded their eyes but let them both live.

💙2) Headmates; Pyrrah and Gideon - two souls living in one body, independent of each other but the eaten soul isn't actually devoured, Pyrrah still having agency for example. I believe this is what Anastasia and Samael may have ended in, if John hadn't killed him.

💙4) Fusion; Paul - When Camilla and Palamedes achieved lychtorhood, it seems like they've fused into and have become a new being, like their souls are blended into a new one, which is parts of them both, yet is still new being.

💙3) Cannibal; Mercymorn and Christabelb- And the other cases of lychtors we've seen for the most part it seems like the soul has been completely devoured, or like the personality of the cavalier is gone, all there is, is autopilot and a battery.

[ The Trinity - what is it? ]

BUT if the perfect Lychtorhood trinity is actually 3 souls, here are my guesses for endgame trinity:

Upon my reread of Nona I realized Anastasia had mentioned a trinity, and I don't think it's just in a Christian Context. A possible reading of what the Trinity is - Adept, Cavalier, and the whole of what they make. The new entity is the 3rd thing, Lychtor type 4.

Ianthe, Babs, Corona

Alecto, Harrow, Gideon

John (father), Gideon (son), Alecto (holy spirit).

Alecto (father), the 10 billion souls (son), the tower/river (holy spirit)

Ianthe, for those last combos, I'd consider a Judas or Longinus allusion. I think her final defining act will be one of mercy, that will leave everyone in... awe ;)

[ Connective tissue ]

💙 Permission; "There is only one rule. Don't go into any locked room without permission. Wink." This quote from teacher in Gideon has been making my brain itch, and I really feel like it has something to do with the tomb itself, the tower, the river, the stoma.

💙 Eyes; are the window to the soul. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I believe the stoma at the bottom of the river isn't just a gateway, and isn't just full of teeth because it's creepy and necromantic. I think the entire river is a living being, that the entire universe in this series is a consciousness all of its own, and that entropy is only being expedited by John, whether he realizes it or not. I believe the river is one big revenant waiting to happen.

💙 Iceberg; Alecto is the Earth, but not the 10 billion souls. John is very much like Harrowhark, in that he is made up of so many more than just his own soul. I don't believe he devoured human kinds souls, I believe they're the mindless restless dead in the river that are so hungry and searching for closure.

💙 Tarot; The tower card often means unforeseen change and dangerous circumstances etc, though in reverse it means illness, loss, etc. I'm choosing to see the river as a reflection of sorts, so I believe the tower is a place of mourning, not the dangerous and ominous thing it seems to be. I genuinely feel like there used to be beings in the river who would help guide souls along.

💙 Ba & Ka; everyone here is extremely well read so I'll let you look up this Kemetic belief and jump into it curtly: I believe when a necromancer devours their cavalier, the eye color switches because the KA (essence) is what is switched with adept and cavalier. I believe this is why even though Gideon dies, Pyrrah still has his eye color rather than hers remaining. Her essence is what has been made part of their soul.

I believe the Ba is what joins the river even when a Cavalier is made into a battery, but that the KA stays. I believe that is what would explain things like only certain body parts or bisected spirits in the river, because why would it dead thing see itself as only part of its whole? Because it's whole isn't there.

Now the BA, personality and individuality, is what gets destroyed in type 2, but blended in type 4. Think Paul's eyes blending color.

[ In conclusion ]

(I'm talking about a lot of complex things that I only have cursory knowledge of, apologies if I get anything wrong thusly dismantling this entire red string maze.)

I still firmly believe that the Trinity is it's two parts plus the whole it makes, and I believe Babs will be rejected or expunged based on what was said in Nona. I don't think his entire Ba has been corroded down to just his Ka yet, so he still may be able to be saved.

This would leave and Ianthe and Corona. BUT I believe Ianthe will have to reconcile her own parts to become a whole person, and become a mini Trinity before even thinking about a perfect Lychtorhood - But she gives a love that is toxic and codependent, I could really see her going between eating Corona, or simply denying her again because she is the one person she can't live without, despite everything.

That, and Corona being Judith's Cavalier in spirit, I'm not sure where her final loyalties will lie. I think her rejection of Ianthe is what will drive Ianthe to do the ""right"" thing. She's always been into people who don't want her and Ianthe had already rejected her once, I don't know if she will get a second chance to reject her.

[figofswords]

hey, so like a year ago i discovered the locked tomb trilogy from your blog and bought the first book, but i procrastinated for an entire year on reading it and only just now read the first book. i’m starting on harrow the ninth soon, but since i’m still new i have to ask: was anyone else as emotionally devastated as i feel at the ending??? i haven’t taken a look much at any fandom yet because i don’t want to be spoilered but i need closure for gideon i’m so sad :( is there anything you can tell me without spoiling the series. if not thank you for letting me yell anyway! i haven’t had anyone else who knows the books to talk to. thank u for introducing it to me either way :)

AAAAA I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS anyways YES so glad you decided to read tlt!! yes, the ending ruined Everyone. Everyone. also definitely do NOT look at the fandom because it is ALL spoilers and htn is a book best enjoyed with no prior knowledge going into it. just to prepare you if you haven’t started it yet though: you Will experience confusion and Yes it’s the best part of the book and No you will not have any fewer questions by the end of it have fun welcome aboard and all I’ll say about getting closure for gideon is “hold that thought”

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 35

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 35

The bungalow was surrounded by aged trees, blocking the sunlight year-round. A chill ran through his body as he walked into the building. The faint musty smell and moisture in the air reminded him of a basement filled with children's toys. Lin Yan followed the Zhongshan man into an office with an old-fashioned wooden table. On the table, there was a large stainless steel thermos. The desktop computer occasionally made some buzzing noises. The office was close to the toilet. It didn't take long for the smell of amonia to rush into his nose.

"Sit down, Lin. I'll grab the contact information of the recent archaeologists that were there. It's still locked in the cabinet." The Zhongshan suit man said as he poured Lin Yan a glass of water in a disposable paper cup. "The files on the table are more than 20 years old. They were just transferred out of the archive room. Feel free to look through them."

"Thank you for your help." Lin Yan said politely.

"No, it's no trouble at all. It's great to see young people so active nowadays. We all heard about what happened with the porcelain appraisal. That was really something. Professor Chen wouldn't stop bragging about it when he got back." The Zhongshan suit man chuckled. He placed a bowl of melon in front of Lin Yan then grabbed his key and left.

Lin Yan sat at the table and waited. The office decoration was old but good quality. The real leather swivel chair was comfortable to sit on. The shade of leaves outside the window blocked the sunlight. A sparrow leaped lightly among the branches. It flapped its wings and flew away.

There were a lot of files about the Ming tomb on the table, sorted into vellum envelopes. Lin Yan flipped through them. They included a large amount of background information on the time period, project approval forms, equipment rental statements, reimbursement vouchers, and so on. An envelope labelled 'Staff Information' caught his attention. Lin Yan brushed off the dust and opened the envelope. There were several smaller envelopes inside with labels written in faded ink. The top one was labelled "1987 Shanxi Archaeological Team Payroll", followed by several others, such as rosters, contact information, etc. The bottom one was marked with the word 'important,' written in red, and the label read: List of work-related casualties and compensation details.

Casualties? Lin Yan picked up the envelope. It was very thin. It was almost like there was nothing inside. The glue on the seal had expired and could be opened just by a light tear. The brownish-yellow paper had become hard and brittle after not being handled for a long time. Lin Yan carefully slipped his hand in. The envelope was empty. Only after fumbling inside the envelope for a while did he find a small thin piece of paper. The hand-drawn table lines were smudged at the top. At first glance, he knew that whoever wrote it had drawn it in a rush. The ink hadn't dried before they dragged the ruler across the page.

A series of footsteps echoing in the hallway approached. Lin Yan jumped, instinctively shoving the paper back into the envelope. it took him a second to remember that he had been given permission to go through the documents. The old information always gave him an anxious feeling, like he was intruding. He felt like a thief, fleetingly travelling back in time from modern times.

The footsteps moved further away. Lin Yan carefully examined the paper in his hand. Everything had also been written in pen. The names, reasons for compensation, amount of money compensated and other items were divided into columns. Lin Yan skimmed over the columns, heart bursting with fear

"Li Erzhuang, hand fracture, compensation of 30 yuan for medical expenses, collected and signed for."

"Sun Dapeng, psychosis, compensation for medical expenses of 150 yuan, collected and signed for."

"Wang Aiguo, psychosis, compensation for medical expenses of 150 yuan, collected and signed for."

". . ."

All the remaining reasons for compensation written in after the names were for psychosis, but the diagnosis details are all blank. The signature on the back was pretty crooked, too. Some of the ink was written so lightly that it was barely visible. Back then, villagers weren't very educated and many could only write their names. He glanced at the page filled with awkward handwriting. When he reached the last two lines, the signature column was blank. After a double-take, the column for the reason for compensation was listed as 'dead'.

"Jun Xiangdong, Jiang Ying . . . did these two die?" Lin Yan gulped. He carefully flattened the paper and muttered: "Compensation of one thousand yuan . . . Hey, that's weird, for these two people. How come it's written that their compensation hasn't been claimed? A thousand yuan was considered a huge sum of money in a village at that time . . ."

Lin Yan confusedly opened the envelope containing the staff list. He pulled out a stack of yellowed paper, flipping through each of them. Besides the detailed information of the students sent by the university who participated in the excavation of the Ming Tomb, the rest were locals. Most of the villagers were uneducated. They only filled in their name, age, gender and village name. Lin Yan counted them. There were 13 people in total. The oldest was only 24 years old, and the youngest was only 16 and 17. Eighteen-year-old children make up the majority. Lin Yan recalled what the professor said and let out a sigh. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for those children to be haunted by illusions and see their friends die in front of them in such a strange way.

It was too much to think about. Lin Yan glanced back at Xiao Yu. The ghost was standing leisurely by the window with his arms crossed, looking at the scenery, as if this had nothing to do with him.

When turning back to Jun Xiangdong and Jiang Ying's forms, Lin Yan was surprised to find that the information left by these two people was almost blank. Compared to the information awkwardly filled in by the other villagers, only their villages and names were listed. Written next to them in black pen were the words "wage uncollected".

Lin Yan stared at the list of villages and frowned. He mumbled: "They're all foreigners? No wonder no one got any money after they died . . ." As he turned over the page of information on the two, there was only one last name at the bottom. The name on this page was Wang Zhong. Similar to Jun Xiangdong and Jiang Ying, there was almost no information is almost blank. He also wasn't a local. Written in big black letters in the upper right-hand corner was: "Wage uncollected".

"Wang Zhong, Wang Zhong . . . This person isn't on the compensation list." Lin Yan glanced through several forms and muttered: "Was he so afraid that he ran away without even getting paid?"

Lin Yan was immersed in a few old documents when, suddenly, the office door squeaked open. Zhongshan suit guy rummaged through the file in his hand as he walked in, muttering to himself: "What's going on . . . "

Hearing his voice, Lin Yan hurriedly put down the files and stood up. Zhongshan suit guy stepped in and waved his hands: "Sit down and sit down. My memory's not what it used to be. Obviously, I put it all away before I went on a business trip. Why can't I find it? "

"What can't you find?"

"Professor Chen said you are looking for the staff roster from the Ming Tomb archaeological expedition in Shanxi. I purposely found it and put it together. The cabinet was opened just now and everything else was there. The fortune-teller's information is the only one that's gone." Zhongshan suit guy shoved everything back into the folder and said to Lin Yan: "Look, everything is numbered. Everyone has one. I filled it out when I joined the team. I kept a copy of it for payroll statistics."

Lin Yan flipped through several forms, each of which was detailed with the staff’s name, ID number, telephone number, address, working hours and position, etc. Indeed, like Zhongshan suit guy said, the number between No. 34 and No. 36 was missing. But the information from the 30th onwards was very brief, some even only listing names and phone numbers. Those people are temporary workers. No. 34 was hired to drive a tractor. No. 36 and 37 were temporary cooks. The form ended on No. 37.

No. 35 should be the mysterious fortune teller.

"This man wasn't part of the team. He came to watch over things with a feng shui compass. He stayed to explain his plan for the excavation then left. He negotiated the price with me and said that he would wait to get paid until his method was proven useful. We had the money ready to go but he never came to get it, otherwise, the financial account would have been recorded."

Everything was done so neatly. Lin Yan stared at the extra space between No. 34 and No. 36 and furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't even want the money? What was he after?

"Please think it over again. Did you take it out before and put it somewhere else?" Lin Yan was a little impatient. "Or did another colleague take it away?"

Zhongshan suit guy rubbed his hands and stroked the key in his hand in confusion: "Impossible. I'm the only one with a key to the cabinet. I had organized everything and locked it in the cabinet before I left on the trip. It was gone as soon as I got back."

Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat. This seemed too coincidental. He glanced back at Xiao Yu. The ghost was staring at the door with furrowed brows and didn't respond to him.

Seeing that Lin Yan's screwed-up expression, Zhongshan suit guy picked up the paper cup on the table and filled it at the water dispenser. He put it back in front of him and comforted him: "It's okay. You sit and drink some water and eat some melon. I'll keep looking for it. I remember when that man first came and spoke in a mysterious way, no one believed him. He left a phone number and address, saying we would definitely have to call him again. And he was right."

"Where did I put it . . ." Zhongshan suit guy talked to himself while fiddling around in the office. Lin Yan wanted to help but was pushed back into the chair. He was forced to stare at the desktop screen saver. A bright, shimmering mass of lines shifted on a black background. Green, red, and blue lines slowly changing, becoming larger and smaller, rolling into a big mess. He couldn't make sense of it.

"Today isn't a good time. If you come at another time, you could ask someone else. Actually, today is our day off so the whole building is empty. I'm the only one who came here for a reason."

Lin Yan smiled embarrassedly: "That's too much trouble for you." Then a thought struck him and he casually mentioned: "There are still people here. I just heard footsteps in the hallway. They just passed by but didn't come in."

Zhongshan suit guy was washing his hands in the washbasin by the door but abruptly stopped when he heard this and looked up: "Impossible. There's no one in the building but flies. There are only three offices, I just checked them and no one's there."

Lin Yan took a sharp breath. He looked towards the dark corridor in the doorway and suddenly felt an ominous feeling.

Maybe it was just him passing by to check the information, Lin Yan reassured himself. When the sun changed its angle, a few loose beams of light penetrated into the room through the gaps in the leaves. The soft yellow light peaked in. The dust dancing in the light fell onto the dark brown tabletop. Beams jutting to the side illuminated a cactus that had been watered too much, its petals hanging down limply.

"Hey, I remember, wait a second." A hint of excitement flashed through Zhongshan suit guy's voice. In the lower part of the glass cabinet, he pulled out an old jacket and searched through the pockets. He fished out a crumpled note from a small pocket in the lining. He fumbled with the crumbled note, studied it over, muttering: "Right, right, this is it."

Zhongshan suit guy slapped the note down in front of Lin Yan's eyes: "The address and phone number."

Lin Yan's expression relaxed.

By noon, the weather was getting hot. Zhongshan suit guy turned on the fan. The buzzing of the fan blades and the rustling of the papers being blown rang out incessantly. Lin Yan put the phone up to his ear and held a pen in his other hand, scribbling on a notepad, the tip of the pen trembling slightly because of the anticipation.

"Beep . . . beep . . ."

". . . The number you have called is temporarily unavailable."

The voice of the phone message came four times in a row. Lin Yan and Zhongshan suit guy exchanged a glance. He dropped the receiver and languidly stretched. Looking at the lower part of the note, the address handwritten in pencil looks familiar. Where had he seen it? Lin Yan tugged at his collar. He wanted to unbutton it to get some air, but he suddenly remembered the string of hickeys on his neck and he hurriedly buttoned it back to the top.

There was a splash of water from the water dispenser, followed by a series of gurgling noises. A thought flashed through his mind. Lin Yan froze in place with his cup in his hand, like the solution had smacked into his brain like a hammer strike.

"Mr. Chen, what does the fortune teller you mentioned look like?"

Zhongshan suit guy thought for a moment and recalled: "It's been a long time so I don't remember clearly. He looked like he was in his 40s or 50s. He's about the same height as me, and his hair is very short."

Lin Yan gulped and entered the address into his phone's GPS. The green route map was displayed, extending all the way to the northwest.

That's it. Lin Yan stared at the red dot indicating the destination in the upper left corner and quietly thought to himself: I found you, temple master.

[chocochipbiscuit]

If you'd like to do another of the opinions ask, the locked tomb!!

I love these books and have loaned the books to a friend!!! Which is the only reason I’m not frantically rereading them right now!!!!

1. The first character I first fell in love with: Gideon! She is irreverent and cynical and makes such a great introduction to the setting, to all its wonder and weird religion and emotional rollercoasters, because she can get just as awed by the wonder of it while retaining a sense of snark and humor that keeps it from feeling overblown. And yet...despite her horrific abusive upbringing and the social isolation of the Ninth House, she is so fundamentally hopeful? She still believes in trying to do the right thing, in being kind when possible, and the belief that there is someone—or something—worth fighting for. She never gives up.

2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Harrowhark! My gosh. After reading that first chapter where she completely and painstakingly obliterates Gideon’s chance of escape on that shuttle??? And we learned all about their history of trying to murder one another??? And Harrow using her status as the Reverend Daughter and House favorite to pummel down on Gideon??? HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO LEARN TO LOVE THIS TRAUMATIZED TEENAGE NERD. MY GOD.

3. The character everyone else loves that I don’t: There are so many great characters, and so many ways to say someone ‘loves’ a character. Do you love the character as a character in an emotionally intense story? Do you love the character as a person and want to be friends with them? Do you despise the character but love the role they play in the story? One of the great things about this series is that I rarely feel neutral about ANY of the characters, and I don’t know how to judge ‘everyone else loves this character’ in a specific way because there are so many ways of loving a character. Maybe the best I can say is that I don’t think I love Palamedes as much as most other fans? He’s fun, he’s clever, he’s got SO MUCH going on and that attempted self-sacrifice and dedication to knowledge without ever falling into that trope of ‘science!!! WHATEVER THE COST, SCREW THE ETHICS’ but he doesn’t compel me the way the other disaster characters do.

4. The character I love that everyone else hates: Bwahaha I fucking love Ianthe, and fully admit that Ianthe is terrible. I love her, but she’s terrible, and I think everyone else who loves her also knows how terrible she is. But she’s the kind of terrible that I find FASCINATING.

5. The character I used to love but don’t any longer: I can’t think of a single one??? If anything, my feelings have only intensified over time! But for the sake of this meme, maaaaybe Cam? I love Cam a lot, but she just hasn’t had as much of a chance to shine in the second book, so I am looking forward to her return!

6. The character I would totally smooch: GIDEON! Sweep me up in your big buff arms!!!!

7. The character I’d want to be like: They all have boatloads of trauma and horrible coping mechanisms! Best I could say might be Cam? Sharp, hypercompetent, a partner and equal with Palamedes, and just. GO LOUD, CAM!

8. The character I’d slap: The Emperor Undying, and by ‘slap’ I mean KNOCK HIS SKULL OFF.

9. A pairing that I love: Gideon/Harrow is my ship of choice!!!! <3

10. A pairing that I despise: ‘Despise’ is fully loaded because I think there are interesting ways to write a number of them, but...in terms of I lack complete interest, any of the OG Lyctors and John. Just. So much mess!!!!

(Name a fandom! Send me an ask? :))

[the-hoarse-bard]

As I drew near to Raven Rock after finding myself halfway across the island from where I had gone to sleep, I encountered a pair of the towns Redoran guards fighting off strange creatures that looked to be made of ash. They were doing well, until one of the ash creatures impaled one of them with an ashen spear, leaving the other fending for his life. I drew my blade and rushed in to help, catching the ash creatures off guard and managing to behead a pair as they turned to face me, leaving the remaining one to be bisected by the remaining guards battleaxe.

The creatures crumbled into piles of vaguely glowing ash piles. The remaining live guard thanked me and introduced himself as Captain Veleth, explaining that these ash creatures were becoming a worsening problem for Raven Rock. He asked me if I knew anything about them, and I regrettably had to tell him that I didn’t. He was disappointed, but told me that if I found anything to come find him at his office in Raven Rock.

After a bit of asking around to attempt to find out why I had awoken building some weird monument halfway across the island, I found that no one would talk about it, almost like something was preventing them from talking about it. Things only get stranger, but seeing that no one would be of any help, I decided to search for Glover’s missing pick instead. I had managed to find out that Crescius was holed up in the old mine, apparently digging for something.

As I entered the mine, I heard a woman arguing with someone, I assume Crescius. She was saying that if he continued he’d probably end up dead. As I rounded the corner, Crescius was stubbornly insisting that he was staying because he needed to find out what happened to his great-grandfather here. The Dunmer woman he was arguing with sighed and turned to leave, pausing only to tell me not to waste my time trying to get him out of here.

Crescius, who I could now see was an aged Imperial man, then called me over. He noticed I was one for adventuring and asked if I could explore the mine from him. He’d pay me anything I desired. I told him I’d do it if he’d give Glover his pickax back. Crescius sighed and handed it over, not without a few words about how Glover could choke on the damn thing. I turned to leave, telling him I’d be right back after I returned it and he just waved me off, seemingly occupied searching a pile of papers for something.

Glover was pleased to have his fancy pick back, but claimed he just wanted it back to prove a point to Crescius about just taking things without asking. He offered me the pick to own as a reward, and I gladly accepted, but had to ask what made this pick so special. Glover explained that only an ancient Nordic pickax can mine the rare material known as stahlrim, a bizarre kind of never melting ice that’s as hard as ebony and has a strange affinity for ice-based enchantments. I told him I was no smith, but he insisted that if I could find a good enough source of the stuff, he could stock stahlrim equipment in his shop for me to buy. That was too good a deal to pass up, so I reluctantly accepted and returned to Crescius.

Crescius was quick to point me to the mine shaft, telling me that the mine had to be closed due to something in the sealed off section at the bottom, and not because it had run dry of ebony. That’s what he was searching for, in addition to his great-grandfathers remains. He wished me luck, and I began the descent. There were a few frostbite spiders on the path, but little else to speak of aside from the veins of ebony I had no use for, but I kept going.

Just as I was beginning to doubt the old bastard, I found the gate into the sealed off section. The lock was trivial to pick, and I then noticed that the miners had apparently dug into an old Nord tomb. I prepared Dawnbreaker before I headed any deeper.

The tomb was, as expected, crawling with Draugr, but Dawnbreaker made them easy pickings. As I proceeded deeper, I found some strange ice that didn’t melt at my touch. This must be that stahlrim stuff Glover mentioned. Hardly enough to supply him, so I just left it. Good to know what it looks like, though.

Eventually, I came to a large open room. There was no way I’d be able to go back after I dropped down, but not seeing any way forward, I did anyway. I came across a pair of skeletons near the large door, one of them clutching a journal and a large blood red sword. Reading the journal, this would appear to be Crescius’ great-grandfather. Old man was right after all, apparently the East Empire Company had contacted him to explore this tomb for them, but then he got stuck in this chamber and starved to death, but not before finding this strange greatsword.

I picked up the large blade, finding it a bit heavy for my taste, but taking an experimental swing with it surprised me when it produced a glowing red beam of energy. Maybe I’d use it after all. I turned to the door again and noticed a series of now glowing gashes surrounding the main part of the door, and that gave me an idea. I swung the blade at the gashes, hitting them all with the beams. As soon as I had finished, the door slowly slid open. What a thing for a professional explorer to miss.

At the end of the hall beyond the odd door was a chamber with a word wall and filled with water. As I approached some kind of lich rose from the water, and began attacking me with magic. I ducked behind the chest to avoid the first volley, then jumped up on the box to launch myself toward the strange undead thing. I yelled out ‘Yol’, and followed it up with a slash through the middle of the thing with Dawnbreaker. It yelled out in what I assume was pain, and it dissolved into a pile of ash, leaving nothing but the mask that was on it’s face. I decided to take the mask. Surely it was important somehow. Then, I turned my attention to the word wall.

The words on this wall were strange. While the others were all carved into the stone, these were written on the wall in what appeared to be blood. I stepped forward, apprehensive, and learned the word. This one made me feel strong. As strong as a dragon, and the word was indeed ‘Mul’, strength. Surely this would come in handy.

I headed onward, expecting to find an exit, but first, I found a strange book on a pedestal. I could sense something odd about it and, overcome with curiosity, I picked it up and began to read it. I felt my consciousness fade, almost as if falling, and I blacked out.

When I came to, I was definitely somewhere else. A sky of sickly green and a sea of dark sludge. As I looked around, wondering where I was, a writhing mass of tentacles with a single large eye appeared before me, saying that I was in Apocrypha, his realm. The realm of Hermaeus Mora. I was stunned, I was in Hermorah’s great undersea library. He offered that if I could overcome the dangers here, I would be granted powerful knowledge, but if I was a fool or coward, I would read the book again and return to Solstheim. I shouted at him that I was no fool or coward, and he laughed and disappeared, saying “We shall see”.

The surroundings were strange, and seemed to warp at a whim, but I persisted despite the tentacles that slapped at me from the inky waters and the strange drifting spirits that attempted to oppose me. Eventually, I came to a room with a large pool in the center, and as I approached, a horrid monstrosity with the head of a fish rose from the waters. It lashed at my legs with tentacles that sprouted from its mouth. I dodged toward a pillar and launched myself off it, driving my glass dagger into the beasts eye. I roared in pain as inky fluid spouted from the wound. It flailed in my direction, but it soon died. Horrible thing. A set of stairs slid out from the wall behind it, and a gate above them opened. I headed onward.

Beyond the gate was a much larger version of the book I had read to find myself here. I opened at my approach, and three glowing orbs emerged from the pages. Each of them whispered of a power they would offer me. One the power to charm the opposite sex, one to never harm my allies, and one to learn all I could from books I found. I thought for a moment, and touched the one that offered protection to my allies, and I found myself blacking out again.

I awoke exactly where I had been, the book tucked safely in my bag. I shook off the shivers of the experience and went on my way up the spiral stairs behind the pedestal.

I emerged from the exit of the tomb, and found myself on the western coast of the island. I took a moment to breathe in the salt air, and made my way back to Crescius. He’d surely be pleased that I found his great-grandfather.

[yue-muffin]

Time Raiders (2016)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

In my quest to consume the entirety of the DMBJ franchise available in English, I have decided to start with the non-canon movie because at least this one has an ending, unlike the train wreck that is Reboot/Chongqi’s pacing. I will probably be bitter about that for all eternity, but I digress. I heard good things about the movie from the bird app, and as I am a Pingxie shipper at heart, I decided to finally watch this one.

P A R T O N E

The cut-in animation to the title was gorgeous, I do so love the qilin in every adaptation. It’s particularly striking here with the gold outline and geometric, maze-like lines. It looks like the cards at the very beginning were being arranged in the image of this qilin.

My first reaction upon seeing white people in a dmbj adaptation is: oh no, the English, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear perfect English that matches the actor’s lips! What a miracle, haha. I remember The Lost Tomb 2 being the worst for how many lines had to be in English, sob.

These look so cool. I see we start off with a good old “seeking immortality” antagonist, and an obsessed collector who has dedicated his whole life to this apparently. As usual, he is a scumbag threatening the locals.

The old guy’s accented English is also better than TLT2, ha. The breathy/nasal quality is not at all uncommon. I don’t know what language the locals speak though.

Me, immediately: Zhang Qiling already??

I know he appears in rather early in TLT1, TLT2, and Reboot/Chongqi, but he’s so often mysteriously absent or stuck behind a gate (or in Reboot’s case, put on a bus) that I got excited, ok.

My favorite Zhang Qilings are the cold-looking pretty boy types in terms of my mental image of the character, but this one is also very easy on the eyes and as usual, unfazed in the face of danger coming at him with a knife. This is the only series in which I’m not bothered by the constant cast change between adaptations (unlike Ever Night), I suppose since it’s been this way from the start.

I’m interested in seeing how the backstories differ from canon. It’s actually rather interesting that this is pretty much an official AU, like that’s kind of wild as a concept. I’m used to the late 1990s/early 2000s anime adding new characters and changing plot points and endings everywhere, but Time Raiders takes it a step further.

Zhang Qiling being an ultra-competent badass who doesn’t even need a weapon to take the bad guys down never changes, no matter the universe. He steamrolls everyone, no questions asked.

Did he- he break the blade with his bare hands hahaha. Oh, yup, and a Zhang Qiling with a weapon is even more dangerous. I see those severed fingers. Such a good fight scene and we’re not even 5 minutes into the movie.

I love how he could have simply fired the arrow while he was still on the statue, then jumped down, but he had to be Extra and fire while he was jumping off haha.

It- the divine piece was right there?? By “beneath the statue” I would have thought it would at least be under it, not in a convenient little slot on the side of the altar area haha. So Zhang Qiling’s mission is to destroy the divine piece(s)? To, um, save the world apparently.

WHO ARE YOU? What an excellent question to ask a Zhang Qiling (and that staring into the mirror shot, too.)… I wonder if this one even knows - it’s possible he doesn’t have his signature amnesia here.

Wait- a gate? I think it’s in a cave or something in the novels, but gates have significance in DMBJ. The cinematography is really nice in these mountain shots. I know nothing about film, but I like the shots in the snowy mountains.

This Zhang Qiling knows and practices martial arts on screen! You would think he’d pull some moves normally, but in the drama-adaptations he tends to just beat people up as efficiently as possible. Sometimes with his sword. Other times he just fights ‘em. I have to admit Jing Boran looks excellent going through some forms. He nailed the force and power underlying every movement, then exploding outward with a strike. I do like the impression it leaves.

I, on the other hand, am an absolute noodle and look ridiculous when I do martial arts.

What in the world is happening in this flashback scene with the weird CGI qilin. Ah, it’s when he received his tattoo. That was super dramatic.

Wushanju is looking real edgy with the heavy iron gate on the interior, haha.

He is puzzling (ha!) over those cards so intensely you’d think it was a thousand piece puzzle instead haha. You’re almost there! Just a few more to finish the qilin!

Aw, is this our Wu Xie? Haha his facial hair is- hm. But I love his voice it’s so soft. Really fits that “Mr. Naive” vibe.

Is that. Is that the author of the series. I found out that he makes cameos in almost all (if not all of) the adaptations!

NO. ONLY I CAN FINISH THE PUZZLE. HANDS OFF BUDDY.

Why are there so many pigeons in here. Who let them inside.

A writer, who came to hear his story and turn it into a novel- HA yup it’s the author.

“This should be a story about me and him.”

Ahh I’m loving it already. DMBJ is the ultimate bromance story. Fair warning, I do ship Pingxie so my shipper goggles will be on throughout the movie. But even without shipping, you do have to admit the series is a bromance underneath all the mystery – between the Iron Triangle, between Wu Xie and Xiaoge.

This Wu Xie is a photographer and that is sort of adorable. Already there’s a theme emerging of needing to record events and telling stories. Interesting that he wants to turn his memories into a novel to record his experiences, because otherwise he’s afraid those memories might turn into a mere story in his own head. Wu Xie, that’s a worrying mindset.

Those ancient mask things always make me crack up, I don’t know why.

Ooh, background about Wu Xie’s birth into the Wu family. I’ve never read up to the part in the books where they go into his place in the family in detail. To be fair, his grandfather had three sons and only one of them had any kids – and Wu Xie is his parents’ only child. So, he becomes the only one who can really carry on the family legacy. Aw, I really like seeing his extended family present though! In the dramas we only ever get either his Second or Third Uncle, and he rarely ever mentions his parents even though they’re alive.

And there’s his namesake! The origin of his nickname, and the irony once the story gets into the Sha Hai timeline.

Wu Xie was a bit of a rascal as a kid, haha. To be fair he has a pretty sharp tongue in the novels and is mostly a pure cinnamon roll in the early dramas.

Little Wu Xie in a suit is so adorable. Nooo kid don’t go into locked up abandoned places. He’s already so adventurous haha. Seems that it’s not actually abandoned judging by all the lights on, but.

UH. MASKED MAN BEHIND YOU. I think he wants that item back. This is why you don’t go into abandoned places, kid. He definitely does not learn his lesson though. Also why are you still holding onto that thing, just drop it, I think he wants it back.

Haha he kept one of the coins.

WOAH. Every month someone in your family dies?? That’s uh- sort of traumatic. Also that would be a really good first line for a novel…Just saying. I do love the singing though.

Oh, the Nine Families exist in this universe too! They even give a quick explanation about the ranking system.

Oh yeah, I love how Wu Xie is such a nerd for all this knowledge of ancient texts and tombs. And YES HE FINALLY DOCUMENTS STUFF FOR ONCE.

Uncle Three looked dead for a moment there, scared the shit out of me too.

VAMPIRE MOTHS? Oh I hate bugs I would not be okay lol. WHOOPS. You guys are really good at reading ancient texts on the fly lol.

That’s the mask he has in the beginning of the film, isn’t it. NO DON’T TOUCH THINGS IN TOMBS. AHHH. So you just put it on your face?? Well that was a stupidly simple way to open the door. I’m guessing the creator didn’t care if anyone opened it.

This guy just severed his own arm, ok…and how many years later is his hand still clinging to it? UH. THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T TOUCH THINGS IN TOMBS. Then he proceeds to steal the box thing.

Ah the white dude again. I am so happy there is GOOD ENGLISH though haha.

Oh, hi Zhang Qiling. Just hanging out on a rooftop I see.

He looks so melancholy. Someone give him a hug! This adaptation makes him more human, less stoic robotic superhuman, I noticed. You rarely see him eat or drink anything in the other adaptations, but here he’s just chilling on a rooftop having some drinks haha. It’s ok. I love all the Zhang Qilings.

WHAT THE HELL, LIGHTNING? What the hell is this high tech machinery haha. Eight days? Coincidentally eight days after sitting in a tomb for how many years.

That is a very Extra bookcase to hold a book that apparently has ALL the secrets.

WOW that is a fancy notebook. It looks so beat up in the other versions haha. In this one, it even gets its own hidden shelf in a giant portable bookshelf!

The props for this franchise are so cool and detailed. I always wish they would show more of the creative process in the BTS, I’m such a nerd for that stuff. The Longest Day in Chang’an was pretty good at that, which is half of my enjoyment of that show haha!

I’m also still pleasantly surprised they bothered to incorporate other languages. I’m not sure what the Snake Lady and the old man in the beginning were speaking, but at least the English is good.

I can’t believe they worked in a steampunk chastity belt this movie went all out, huh. Also with these weirdly high tech structures and lightning and moving tomb structures.

And all the pieces start coming together! So that’s why it’s believed they hold the secret to immortality. What a steampunk-looking key.

Is that a writing desk??

Oh, they’re getting a team together to go tomb raiding! Ha, forget money! You may or may not end up dying on this adventure, so who cares about money, right.

He’s so cute standing there with his camera. Look at the little smile as he watches everything going on!

It’s a desk and a storage container?? Oh, there are ~qualifications~ to going on tomb raiding. Makes sense. That is the oddest looking sword.

Must appreciate Zhang Qiling’s fingers in every adaptation. They look very strong and steady here. Let’s not talk about the slooow trailing across the handle.

Wow did you really just throw sand in his face. Have we not learned not to mess with Zhang Qiling after he trounced that first guy who attacked him. I love the fight scenes so much after the bore-fest that was Reboot/Chongqi’s second half of Season 1.

Super pretty, but why did it cause him to stop and stare in the middle of the fight?

This is like a Final Fantasy sword haha. Also I think you should stop while you’re ahead, why did you think a table would stop this dude. (Hey, it’s Da Kui! He was in the novel but not TLT1.).

It’s HERE. Their first meeting. How did he know the coin was on that cord? It wasn’t visible, I don’t think. But uh. That was a hilarious move on his part, he is so Extra?? He just casually flicks the necklace off with his big-ass sword and it drops into his hand. Then casually goes “oh, here, you dropped this” as if he wasn’t the one responsible for it coming off in the first place!!

HERE IT COMES. The unnecessarily long eye contact. Pingxie in every adaptation needs a Staring Into Your Eyes scene.

Real smooth.

Ahh this Wu Xie is such a cutie. He’s like a puppy.

WHAT. Third Uncle, I can’t believe you let him tag along so easily haha. In the beginning he was scolding Wu Xie to never get involved in tomb business, then what happens? They’re going tomb raiding!!

Next Up: to the tomb we go! This can’t end badly or anything what are you talking about.

[danbensen]

Trigger Warnings: Cancer, Coronavirus

So there I was, feeling good.

I was in the grocery store for maybe the third time since February, buying ice, salt, frozen strawberries, and the other ingredients of home-made ice cream. My headphones were in my ears, playing Terry Pratchett’s Maskerade, and my own mask was fogging up my glasses.

I carried my bags out, nodded to the hand-sanitizer lady, and emerged into the green, breezy warmth of May in Sofia. Big, white clouds piled themselves above the hilly crowns of the chestnut trees. Swallows dove and starlings chimed. People walked between the apartment buildings and neighborhood stores, but the playground was still roped off. I removed my mask, attempting to neither rip my glasses nor my earphones off my face, and made for home.

The whole scene should have scared the hell out me.

Warm breezes? Fluffy white clouds? Last spring, buying ice cream would grip my guts with dread. I remember stopping by the frozen food section and feeling the depression settle over my shoulders like a wet woolen sweater. I remember an earlier May, another playground where I ate ice cream with Pavlina and the girls, when I was dying of cancer. That was four years ago, almost to the day.

Don’t worry, I won’t go into any more details of how I got sick. If you want to know more, I wrote about it here. Suffice to say that spring is a hard time for me. For the past three years, the period between March to June reminded me of this very painful and frightening time, and that made happiness hard to keep hold of.

Except that this year, we’ve been in quarantine the whole season! I haven’t been teaching classes in the same office, or eating at the same restaurants, or doing any of the same stuff I was doing four years ago. This time, when I went shopping for ice cream, I was wearing a face mask. The playgrounds are closed. We had been rushing forward, and disease knocked us back hard. That does feel familiar.

The good news is that the recovery also feels familiar. In Europe, the first wave of the coronavirus is receding. Bulgaria’s kindergartens and restaurants have reopened after nearly three months of complete lock-down. There have been two deaths in the past 24 hours and seventeen new cases. We’re planning to reopen hotels. It’s still too early to drop all caution and go back to normal, of course…

But I find I don’t want to. I don’t like a lot about the old normal. I don’t want to return to the Cult of Busy and the Fear of Missing Out. I don’t want to spend half the day in transit and half the weekend worrying about whether I’m being social enough. I made ice cream with my kids during the lock-down*! I wrote poems about budgies and helped them with their homework. I had more snowball fights this spring than ever in my adult life.

Of course the coronavirus is a disaster. It has killed hundreds of thousands of people. It’s knocked global society back hard. But if that feeling of being knocked back is very familiar to me, so is the knowledge that I’m lucky to be alive to think about what comes next. Four years ago, I went in for surgery and came back to consciousness with new priorities. I promised myself I would do more good with the time I had been given.

Then I began the great, good work of recovery.

What does your recovery look like? What will you do differently now? Let’s make a list.

Ahem.

Apparently, my recovery looks like focusing even harder on writing books. My webpage and twitter stream look pretty barren this month, but I finished the beta version of Wealthgiver. I also spent more time on personal emails than I have for a while, and I’ve had some really deep and interesting discussions there and on Zoom. I’ve talked with experts on biology, physics, and Thracology, as well as colleagues and mentors in the sphere of writing. I feel as if I’m growing. My Thracian wordlist is undergoing some major metamorphosis, let me tell you.

Here’s a fun example:

Zi-issa ax issti zălmossa.

“The truest face is the mask.”

Doesn’t that look nice? All sinister and hissy? And here’s the “classical Thracian” for the same sentence.

Ax sa źi ísas ḗsti źälmós sa.

Now that’s sinister, hissy, and needlessly complicated! Just the aethetic I’m going for! Umlauts, baby!

I want to play with my Thracian some more, so without further ado, here’s what I liked this month:

Ronja the Robber’s Daughter: Astrid Lingrin + Studio Ghibli + Birmingham accents = good wholesome fun. As a father, I wish Ronja spent less time leaping back and forth over deadly crevasses. And those harpies are top notch.

Octonaut: Underwater adventures where the biology isn’t bad and everything has bunny-noses and beady little black eyes, including the carrots. Why are there spaient submarine carrots? It’s just one of the many mysteries of the deep.

Feierabend by Grossstadtgeflüster: I don’t know what she’s singing about, but she’s super into it.

Yggdrasill by SKÁLD: These guys are are into it too! Urðar brunni!

85 by Andy Grammer: Damn that backbeat! Mm’mm whappa mm!

The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner: It has a good twist ending and a claustrophobic tomb-robbing scene that just about makes up for the characters’ sarcastic sniping.

Maskerade by Terry Pratchett: This is one of the first Diskworld books I read back in high school. I didn’t realize it until now, but it set a lot of my expectations about helping other people and writing. Those expectations weren’t entirely borne out, but maybe that’s just a sign I should become an erotic witch-chef instead.

Memory by Lois McMaster Bujold: Holy Russian Space-Gods this book is a work of art! It is a pleasure and an education to see Bujold take her character through a high, a low, and lower low, then back up for a quick trip to the store to buy eggs, and then its back down we go! Forget that nonsense about the three act structure and the hero’s journey, Miles has an ego-shattering revalatory insight like every third chapter! God damn but I want to write like this! Just read it.

Rising Strong by Brené Brown: I always enjoy Brown’s books because she’s approaching being a good person from the opposite direction as me. She talks about her childhood and her basic fears and desires and none of it rings a bell for me, but then she’ll come out with “judgementalness is caused by resentment, and the antidote for resentment is boundaries.” I don’t agree with her about everything, but she really seems to have a-

The Judging Eye by R. Scott Bakker: (Aspect-Emperor #1): It wasn’t as good as the books of Bakker’s previous series in this world, but it’s still pretty damn good. The tangly depths of scene description and character emotion don’t go quite as deep. The author’s thoughts on judgement are interesting, but they don’t quite ever get where they’re going. And I didn’t care much about the teenage prince of Rohan. But all that crawling through the black catacombs of an ancient and corrupted civilization? Mmwah!

Next month I’m working on the sequel to Protector. So anybody got some recommendations for spy thrillers, the Italian Renaissance, nano-manufacturing, and meditations on trust?

[rosalind-of-arden]

Sword and Pen Reread, chapter 13 part 1

It’s Wolfe chapter time! I am sure it comes as no surprise to anyone at all that this is my favorite chapter in the book. Splitting the post because this is looooooong.

In the ephemera, we have some Russia-Archivist collusion. The assassins that killed Murasaki were Russian spies. The Archivist sold weapons to Russia. It’s been just two days since the Archivist lost power. There’s no way he set all of this up so fast. He’s been scheming with Russia and developing secret weapons for some time. How did he get the weapons to Russia, though? Were they hidden somewhere outside Alexandria? Translated out by Vanya Nikolin?

The Russian ambassador is surprised the Archivist never used the new weapons in Alexandria, and a little suspicious. I suspect the Archivist would have done just that if the pack showed up at the gates with an army instead of taking control from within Alexandria.

Wolfe’s discomfort with violence: describes Anit’s forces as “unpleasantly good at killing”, doesn’t want to kill the Elites who surrendered. Here’s some foreshadowing of the stabbing moment. He recognizes that killing the Elites would be easier, but he considers that “a terrible thought.” (Is it just because of circumstances that Wolfe sends the prisoners with Anit? Or is he glad for the opportunity to let someone else do the dirty work?)

But also, Wolfe’s appreciation of skill at violence: he has appreciative comments about the fighting skills demonstrated by the Elites, the criminals, Jess, and Glain.

Glain is not ok: “She looked pale and strained now as the adrenaline departed.” (Coincidence that Wolfe is good at recognizing signs of adrenaline rush wearing off? I think not.)

Dad Wolfe, overestimating his warrior daughter’s abilities: “And if I’d come with just you and Jess-” “We’d all be dead,” she said. At his look, she smiled. “I’m good, Scholar. Nobody’s that good.” “Well, perhaps you’re-” YOU ARE SUCH A DAD, WOLFE.

How much of Wolfe only just recognizing that Jess is dying was because Jess was hiding symptoms well and how much was Wolfe being in denial?

“He’d been afraid of this. Afraid that his obsession, his lack of sensible caution, had finally cost a life. Worse still, the life of someone he cared for.” First of all, you know things are bad when Wolfe admits to feelings. But also, echoes of the conversation between Wolfe and Santi after the training exercise in Paper and Fire, when Santi yelled at Wolfe for being reckless and getting the recruit in Glain’s squad killed. This is an argument those two have been having for a long time - I’d guess it even predates Rome. Recklessness is a flaw Wolfe knows he has, and his self-criticism when he recognizes it is brutal. He’s not giving himself a break for recent traumatic experiences or the extreme pressure of the situation.

“Glain had a soft streak in her. In that she reminded him of himself. Rather strongly.” Wolfe has just admitted to having feelings, y’all. This is a sign of how bad things are. But also: yes, you asshole, we’ve known about that soft side all along. You were fooling no one.

A lot of “boy” in reference to Jess. With Jess so weak, Wolfe is thinking of him as more of a child. It’s bringing out Wolfe’s dad side more. Or, I mean, I’m sure there are sinful things that one might make of this.

“I’ve killed him. The thought struck deep, and it hurt so badly he drew in a startled breath.” Wolfe is having Feelings and I just cannot get enough of it. Uncontrolled, audible to others Feelings.

So what does Wolfe do after showing undeniable emotion? Pile on the praise for Jess’s contribution to the fight and threaten to nail the mask to Jess’s face.

Wolfe and Santi have already worked out pretty much everything that the Archivist tries. They know each other’s thinking well enough that Wolfe is very confident in telling Glain that Santi has already thought of the places she suggests the Archivist might attack. The only things they missed were the Tomb of Heron and Archivist’s ability to get assassins and himself into the Serapeum. 

Wolfe’s struggle to think of where the Archivist might go next is another sign that he isn’t at his best.

Wolfe: I am very polite and totally not reading other people’s Codex messages except that I kind of accidentally skimmed it and got the important bits.

High Garda and smugglers both pay and care for the families of people killed in battle.

“There was a certain chilly certainty to that, and Wolfe felt it down his spine. He made his tone especially bitter when he said, ‘Enough chat, children.’“ Wolfe: *has a feeling* Wolfe: *acts like an asshole to cover it up* You are fooling no one, Wolfe.

Wolfe has a soft spot for Anit. First he gives her a lion in Ash and Quill, now he’s offering her two or three favors as long as those favors aren’t books from the Archives. Wolfe’s not just a dad, he’s the dad who makes sure that his kids’ friends are all taken care of, too.

Wolfe threatens to have Jess strapped down to a hospital bed. Wolfe worries because Jess doesn’t argue with that. He knows how much Jess is like him.

Wolfe seems to intuitively grasp that the sphinx is being controlled. He feels the Archivist’s presence in it when it comes back. He doesn’t seem to know about the magic mirrors. Is he sensing something with his limited Obscurist talent that he isn’t consciously aware of?

Archivist’s first name, which Wolfe “hadn’t used in ages”, is Theo. This is the only use of his name in the entire fucking series. Short for something? Theodore (Greek origin, meaning “divine gift”, which I’m sure the bastard thinks he is) comes to mind first, but a quick browse through a couple baby name sites shows that there are a lot of other variants. Notably, I do not see any Russian versions of the name, so we can probably rule out the possibility that he’s so cozy with the Russians because he’s Russian himself.

But it’s also such an awesome moment for Wolfe to get to call the Archivist by his first name. Wolfe has been putting up with people in power calling him “Christopher” without permission, now he gets to turn the tables. It’s even more insulting to the Archivist, and Wolfe knows it.

Santi made sure Wolfe wore armor. This is good protectiveness: not controlling Wolfe’s actions, but urging him to take reasonable safety precautions.

“he felt a sharp twinge in his shoulder that warned him he was neither as athletic nor as limber as he’d once been” A sign of age here, yes, and a potential long-term symptom from torture, but I’m also seeing this as a sign of how Wolfe’s life has changed in recent years. Even just the events of the books would take a toll. Then along with the obviously devastating physical effects of his imprisonment in Rome and the effects of PTSD, there was Santi keeping him “locked up” for 6 months between Ink and Bone and Paper and Fire. How many of his normal activities weren’t safe/permitted for him in the time between Rome and his teaching assignment? The kids see Wolfe as impressively athletic for a Scholar, but this line suggests that he used to be even more so.

Glain says she can’t use Greek fire. This means that Glain has Greek fire. Did the promotion come with Greek fire carrying privileges?

Wolfe, with his arm in a sphinx’s mouth, has to resist the urge to respond to Jess with a lengthy, snarky answer.

Another addition to Wolfe’s knowledge: anatomy. He’s very aware of what arteries the sphinx could claw open.

“Stay alive for Nic, if not for yourself.” Another little hint that Wolfe isn’t entirely ok. Echoes of his statement in Ash and Quill that he stays alive for Nic even though he has suicidal thoughts.

“Dying in a graveyard seemed like the most ignominious end of end of them all. He wasn’t having it.” First, even in his own thoughts, Wolfe backs off from emotional intensity with sarcasm. Second, Wolfe-Dario parallel here, with Dario later complaining about not wanting to die like a commoner.

For all his “I’m not that athletic” thinking, Wolfe is... pretty fucking athletic here. He’s worn himself out, though. He has to catch his breath while the automata are fighting, and he can only run part of the way back. Once the adrenaline wears off, he’s walking.

Wolfe has a nasty bruise from the sphinx bite. @thegreatlibraryfangirl​, how does that play with your injured wrist headcanons? Any chance this injury is worse than Wolfe thinks it is?

[brushlesprouts]

Sir Rathus Kaine Returns

Inspired by reading Seven Blades in Black by Sam Sykes, I made this while trying to emulate the style. I highly recommend the book. Please enjoy my brain nugget.

++++

“Great General Baltha!” Said the messenger, running frantically into the office. Bethany Burlesque Baltha spared an irate glance at the frantic messenger.

“Yes?” She said, voice creaking from the remnants of a cold she was battling. The stress of running the Palace of Great Deeds had been ruining her sleep schedule which had made her condition rather worrisome. But she couldn’t let down the Glorious One, or more importantly, Abigail. She pushed the thought away from her mind. She realized she hadn’t been paying attention to the messenger.

“Uh, what was that?” She said, “Catch your breath and start over.”

The messenger seemed thankful and took a few deep breaths before speaking again. “Like I said, the Crypt of Kings was found open this morning.”

“Grave robbers?” She said and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I wouldn’t think a General would have to instruct her forces to hunt down bandits.” She paused as a cold chill passed down her spine, “Unless there is more to this story?”

The messenger, steadied himself on a chair in front of her desk. She motioned for him to take a seat. He obliged and took another breath.

“We thought it was stranger for bandits to get this far into the Palace of Great Deeds without anyone noticing. So we went into the crypt and found there was only one tomb disturbed. One that we have all been instructed to stay far away from.” He paused as the realization sunk into her. She rose from her desk, her eyes deadly serious and focused on him.

“Show me.”

The Glorious Empire of Divinia held a great deal of the western continent with its heart beating in the capital city of Falk at the top of Mount Spire. Surrounding allies all held an important part of the Glorious Empire. And in Velkinrath, they had the Palace of Great Deeds. A glorified cemetery for the great martyrs and pillars of the nation. Though, that was just on the surface. Deep beneath the polished marble floors, a series of chambers held dire secrets. And among them was the body of the true pillar of the Glorious Empire.

Sir Rathus Kaine. First of the Glorious Empire. The Hero who sacrificed everything for the benefit of The Glorious One. He was buried in a very prestigious place, behind several layers of protective barrier. The scraps of which lay in shattered flecks around the feet of Baltha. She gazed, a pale expression of unrest sitting uncomfortably on her face, into the gaping maw of the opened crypt. The messenger stayed at the door behind her as instructed, but for a fleeting moment she really wanted to have another body there as a shield. Or better yet, she really wanted to turn tail and run back up to her desk and dive underneath and snatch that bottle of aged whiskey for a long and comforting pull. But this would demand a report. And she would need to add a very important detail. One that Abigail would be looking very keenly for. And one that, should she leave out, would reflect poorly on her maintaining the loving relationship her neck had with her head.

She steeled her resolve and pressed onward. The echoing sound of her boots in the stone corridor emphasized the feeling that she was alone in the tomb. And hopefully, that was true.

She reached the remnants of the chamber door leading into the tomb. There were large gashes on the metal door that had severed the layers of locking mechanisms. She felt a cold wind on the back of her neck, she fought her urge to cry out, and simply turned around slowly. All she saw was the messenger standing at the entrance, dutiful and at attention. Poor soul must have been anxious as hell. Seeing his superior meekly stumbling in the dark towards a room he never had any knowledge of. She cleared her throat and called out to him.

“Seems like the grave robbers were using some impressive tools.” She said, and to her credit, she almost believed it. But the gouges in the door were clearly rend from the inside of the room. The messenger nodded from his vantage point far away from her.

She turned back to the door and the room beyond. A cold sweat had begun to bead on her forehead. One last thing to check. Just a quick peek will do the trick. Then she could leave and file a report that there was just some burglars that need apprehending and she could go back to trying to drown troubling memories and nightmares.

She slipped her hand between the cracks in the door and felt for the special switch that deactivated the traps within the room. You could conceive that these traps were built to discourage the incredibly dedicated thief, but she knew there was another being that it was actually designed for. Several layers of powerful and painful magic pointed at the sarcophagus at the center of the tomb. To be fair, it was a rather splendid piece of work, that regal coffin. Draped in the wonderful colors of the Glorious Empire and sealed with hundreds of pounds of inert stone, sculpted to look like the late Rathus Kaine. Or at least, it would, were it not for the gaping scar that tore through the length of the elegant confinement. And by all accounts, that kind of rupture did not appear to come from the outside.

“Oh no,” Baltha said to herself. She began to contemplate her options. She could bring this intel to Abigail, now would be fine. But she knew the question would come.

“And the body?” She would ask. In a voice like honey. So sweet. So viciously sweet. You wouldn’t notice the poison until you were already a blue and bloated corpse.

So, with her fear of the known overpowering her fear of the unknown, Baltha tipped her head forward and looking into the regal coffin’s wound.

Within the sarcophagus, wrapped in the regalia he wore in life, lay the late Sir Rathus Kaine. Eyes closed gently as if in peaceful rest. Hands holding onto the sword given to him on the day his life was taken by an enraged elemental and he passed away for the benefit of the Glorious Empire.

She closed her eyes let out a heaving sigh of relief. The body was still there. Still dead. Whatever had happened here was very strange, but at least she could end her report and Abigail would not come after her.

“Did you miss me?” A voice said.

Her eyes snapped open, Kaine was looking up at her. His eyes open wide. Bright and filled with a light that was not human, or divine, something else. She felt the would fall out beneath her, dropping to her knees and scrambling back to the entrance to the tomb. There came a blast of wind as Kaine stepped beside her. The edge of his sword found its way under her chin.

“After all these years, you never visited.” He said, his voice was distant but she could feel it pounding in her head. “I guess I can’t blame you, what with these magical traps. Did you make these, Baltha? Traps always were your specialty.”

She swallowed hard, the edge of the blade biting gently into the skin of her throat. Her body trembled as she tried to lift herself away from the blade. She was so close to the door, to the trap switch, she could still make it out alive. She just needed to buy time.

“Please don’t kill me.” She said, choking back a sob. “I don’t want to die.”

The pressure against her throat lessened. “Oh dear, Baltha. I am not going to slit your throat.” He said and slipped the blade into the sheath at his side. “You’re just following orders.” His eyes danced with fire as he looked down at her. “Another dog of Abigail.”

“Yes,” She said, stumbling to her feet and falling against the door frame, “I was just a pawn. A tool.”

He tipped his head to the side, “Baltha, what are you doing?”

She jammed her hand into the door crack, “I’m putting you back in your box, Kaine!” She shouted and flicked the switch. The magic in the traps began to hum back to life.

“Aha, I see.” He said and smiled. “So that’s where it is.” The hum of the magic traps began to change tone to a rhythmic pulsing in and out. It sounded like a grumbling, gravelly echo. Like someone…snoring?

“You know Baltha,” He said, his form shivering and fading away to show her still standing over the sarcophagus, asleep on her feet. “You really should get more sleep. You’ll get nightmares.” He said and clapped his hands.

Baltha woke up with a start, standing in front of the sarcophagus, looking down into the gaping wound. The empty box presented the lovely interior of the royal coffin. She turned back to the door, to find Kaine standing there. His hand was slipped into the crack in the door.

“Goodbye Baltha.” The clock of the switch rang in her ears before being drowned out by the roar of the magical traps.

At the end of the corridor, the messenger barely had time to dive away from the blast of powerful magic that ripped out of the tomb. He scrambled to his feet and looked down the glassed corridor.

“General Baltha?” He called out.

There came no answer, but there was a whisper that came from behind him.

“You’re a messenger, right?”

The young messenger spun around to see an emaciated and ashen body wreathed in the scraps of tattered regal clothing, a dangerous blade hung at his hip. He placed a hand on the weapon and cleared his throat to insist a response.

“Y-yes, sir.” He said, fumbling to pull a notepad and everink quill out of his pockets.

“Good,” The shambling corpse said, his smile causing cracks to form at the edges of his face, “Tell Abigail I’m coming for a visit.”

The messenger scribbled on the pad. At the bottom of his notes, a flourished blank patch begged a name. He looked up to the imposing threat before him.

“Uh, who–“

“Me?” Said the crackling creature. It’s eyes flashed with a sickly light and his grin peeled back to reveal sharpened teeth. “I’m the Boogeyman.”