#the outer reaches of what lies past the game and beyond it

[squuote]

With the idea of Stanley having a life outside or before the parable, the idea that he is a character within a game built in with past memories feels almost if not entirely terrifying in nature. To have a whole set of memories that really mean nothing because they aren’t real and they have no deeper context than being a past narrative to be used to tell this new looping one. That you will always remember people and past moments despite them never existing out of your own head. Stanley’s agency to escape and/or return to a past life despite there being nothing beyond an ending of an open landscape that leads nowhere. A way to make freedom as appetizing as possible so he’ll actually reach for it.

[yellow-yarrow]

Plain text version of this post about Russian cosmism and Disco Elysium's lore:

[Image description of the linked post: a collection of various quotes from the game, the book, and from cosmist texts or writings about cosmism. The text that is displayed is the following:]

Cosmist connections in Elysium’s lore

Cosmism emerged in Russia before the October Revolution and developed through the 1920s and 1930s; like Marxism and the European avant-garde, two other movements that shared this intellectual moment, Russian Cosmism rejected the contemplative for the transformative, aiming to create not merely new art or philosophy but a new world. Cosmism went the furthest in its visions of transformation, calling for the end of death, the resuscitation of the dead, and free movement in cosmic space. […] Cosmism was developed by the Russian philosopher Nikolai Fedorov in the late nineteenth century [..] Cosmist ideas inspired visual artists, poets, filmmakers, theater directors, novelists (Tolstoy and Dostoevsky read Fedorov's writings), architects, and composers, and influenced Soviet politics and technology. [1]

-

From the Disco Elysium artbook:

Hegel says there is a World Spirit. It is on the march toward Absolute Knowledge. As Soviet artists – perhaps the last Soviet artists – it was our duty to add to the relay. To keep history moving. Onward to the outer cosmos and the stars. Now, imagine you really believe this to be your duty. Something you have to do, or you’ve failed as a person. The Soviet project was always about messianistic salvation. Soviet artists took on the insane responsibilities: to fight against Heat Death, or to build a new God. The horizon was always millions of years in the future.

-

In a sense, Fedorov developed his project of the resurrection of past generations as an attempt to “materialize” Hegelian philosophy. Hegel understood the historical process as a work of negation: we should negate the past and present to let the historical new emerge. According to Hegel’s Phenomenology of the Spirit, the goal of history consists, however, in the spiritual reconstruction of all its past epochs. Thus, Hegel believed that through his Phenomenology he had achieved the ultimate reconciliation and even synthesis between past and future. [1]

-

Creative labor, in our understanding, is a cosmic category, and the goal of all labor is to overcome time. We need to stop hoping for a ready-made eternity and start producing time. Blind, irrational time is already in its death throes. Beyond it lies the new, more perfect and rational time-a creation of the future global culture. —V. Muraviev [2]

-

ENCYCLOPEDIA - There is a name for this ideology: Entropolism. A faith in and desire to accelerate the spread of pale across the world, until humanity has reached what its adherents call the 'rest state' of humanity, the final reconciliation of past, present, and future in timeless spirit…

EGG HEAD - "THE PAST IS THE FUTURE, BUT THE FUTURE IS DEAD!"

-

According to Muravyov, under capitalism there is planned development (the first derivative of time). Communism involves the acceleration of planned development (the second derivative of time). Muravyov’s cosmist project depicted the prospect of further acceleration, potentially up to the limit of our universe (the third and further derivatives of time). To achieve this goal, Muravyov insisted on the final quantification of the world and the development of a “universal productive mathematics” that would be used to manage it. [3]

-

ENCYCLOPEDIA - An innocence is infallible. The decisions made by one are not decisions. They are inevitabilities -- what would have happened anyway, only accelerated, packed into decades instead of centuries. An Innocence is a continuous, compressed event, a sacred human being.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - The highest category of historic individual -- an embodiment of the World Spirit.

-

Evald Ilyenkov’s “Cosmology of the Spirit” was written in the 1950s (..) Addressing the physicist idea of the “thermal death of the universe,” and creating an original combination of the Hegelian dialectics and Spinoza’s notion of the attribute, Ilyenkov claims that thought (and the seemingly contingent emergence of “thinking life”) is a necessary attribute of matter, as it is able to prevent the terminal entropic collapse.

“Thought is undoubtedly the highest product of universal development, is the highest stage of organizing interactions.”

“Just as there is no thought without matter, so there is no matter without thought.”

-

A BRIEF LOOK AT INFRA-MATERIALISM - But one subject [Ignus Nilsen] returned to time and time again was the fundamental relationship between thoughts and matter… "We may yet discover," he wrote in his notebooks, "that under certain, exceptional circumstances, the proletariat's embrace of historical materialism may be so fervent that their beliefs take form in the world of matter as a kind of revolutionary 'plasm'."

-

“Does not the development of productive power of humankind remove the danger of perishing from cosmic freezing, from the cold of intergalactic space?”

-

A BRIEF LOOK AT INFRA-MATERIALISM- During his final years in exile, he produced, among other things, […] plans for a universal pictographic language […]

-

Many [cosmists] were publicly supportive of Leon Trotsky

-

Our goal is a common written language, common for all the nations of the third satellite of the Sun, to construct written signs, comprehensible and acceptable for the whole star that is settled by humanity, lost in the world. —Velimir Khlebnikov, The Artists of the World, 1919

-

“Humankind […] at some, very high, point of its development— at the point acquired when matter, of more or less vast cosmic spaces within which humankind exists, starts to cool and is close to the condition of so-called thermal death; in this fateful point for matter and in which in some way or other […] consciously facilitates the start of the reverse (in comparison with dispersed motion) process, a process transforming the dying, freezing worlds into the fiery- incandescent hurricane of emerging nebula.”

-

PROJECT DREAD BOARD- A pinned postcard reads: 'The heat death scenario -- a desperate fight for geothermal energy engulfs the world as Wirrâl becomes untethered from its sun, drifting through the Universe.'

-

“Our Earth must become a spaceship steered by the wise will of the Biocosmist. It is a horrifying fact that from time immemorial the Earth has orbited the Sun, like a goat tethered to its shepherd.” [1]

-

“Without it, there is nothing.” “Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!” The pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut. The world turns white; beams of light seep from Ignus’ chest into the dim spruce trees. The falling snow sparkles in the beams like silver confetti, the colour creeping into the world like a threat. Zygismunt stomps his foot. He covers his ears with his hands and shouts, “Enough! Stop!” -Sacred And Terrible Air

-

Indeed, if one assumes that the thinking spirit is born somewhere on the periphery of universal matter only in order for it soon to vanish fruit lessly and without a trace [..] then one ends up with a very strange notion of “attribute.” Indeed in this case thought turns out to be something like mould on a cooling planet, something like the senile disease of matter, and certainly not the highest flower of creation, not the highest product of universalworld development. [4]

-

The pale is approaching—an avalanche of the world’s memories—and burying matter greedily.

History swallows the present; the world of matter disappears,

when the pale is only a few days away, it’s always signalled by the same beautiful event. Fruits go mouldy. It grows vigorously on them.

-

SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER- "A theory of the pale where instead of an outer ocean it metastasises -- like a cancer or a mould -- erupting in points inside the world."

-

The scientists here claim: once the earth was covered with the geosphere, then with the biosphere; now is the time of the noosphere. A mind covers the earth, and Noo’s skyscrapers are the throne of that network. The throne of the mind.

-

In the theory of the cosmist Vernadsky: The noosphere is the third in a succession of phases of development of the Earth, after the geosphere (inanimate matter) and the biosphere (biological life). Just as the emergence of life fundamentally transformed the geosphere, the emergence of human cognition fundamentally transforms the biosphere. [5]

Sources:

Various quotes from the following writings:

Russian Cosmism edited by Boris Groys

Timeline of Russian Cosmism by Anastasia Gacheva, Arseny Zhilyaev, and Anton Vidokle, e-flux journal

Optimists of the Future Past Perfect by Arseny Zhilyaev, e-flux journal

Cosmology of the Spirit by Evald Ilyenkov from Statis journal and an abridged version of the text

Noosphere wikipedia page

Disco Elysium, Sacred and Terrible Air by Robert Kurvitz, Disco Elysium artbook

[slotgamethemes]

Slot Game Themes: From Ancient Egypt to Space Adventures

Slot games have evolved far beyond the classic fruit and bell symbols of the past. Today, players can embark on thrilling adventures through a vast array of themes that cater to every interest and imagination. From exploring the mysteries of ancient Egypt to traversing the far reaches of outer space, slot game themes have transformed the world of gaming. In this article, we'll delve into the fascinating world of slot game themes, highlighting some popular choices and what makes them so enticing.

The Appeal of Thematic Slot Games

The appeal of thematic slot games lies in their ability to transport players to different worlds, eras, and fantastical realms. These games go beyond mere megawin gambling; they offer immersive experiences, engaging storylines, and the opportunity to win while enjoying a familiar or exciting backdrop.

Ancient Egypt: A Timeless Favorite

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Adventure and Exploration

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Space Adventures: The Final Frontier

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Movie and TV Show Tie-Ins

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Fantasy and Fairy Tales

The world of fantasy and fairy tales provides a rich tapestry of themes for slot games. From classic tales like "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" to the enchanting worlds of fairies, unicorns, and magic, these games capture the imagination of players. The themes often evoke a sense of childhood wonder and the allure of magical realms. They also frequently feature bonus rounds where players can participate in enchanting adventures and win captivating prizes.

Sports and Competitions

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In Conclusion

The world of slot games is a diverse and creative space where imagination knows no bounds. Themes like ancient Egypt, mythology, space adventures, movie tie-ins, and many more offer players the opportunity to explore new worlds and narratives while having the chance to win real money. The rich storytelling and visual appeal of these themes have contributed to the enduring popularity of slot games, making them a beloved form of entertainment for people with a wide range of interests and passions. Whether you're drawn to history, mythology, or outer space, there's a slot game theme that can transport you to the world of your dreams.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You Belong With Me - Chapter 36

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost  

Description: Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  

Word Count: 6909

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of potential child neglect/abuse, Threats, Mentions of crime, Memory loss, Mentions of hunting people/fae, Brief mentions of minor violence/branding (Please let me know if there’s anything you’d like tagged or if I missed anything!)

---

    Remy stalked down the halls at a steady pace. At each intersection, he found himself glancing down the dimly lit hallways on his reluctant journey to the castle’s northern tower. His shadows crept across the skin, tingling a warning as he dipped into the darkness to avoid a patrolling guard.

    He slipped out of the shadows as the guard strode past. Remy found himself staring as the guard continued to meander aimlessly down the corridor, completely unaware he'd missed an enemy of the crown crouching in the darkness. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he traced the patrol's movements until they turned the next corner and the halls fell silent.

    Remy let out a slow exhale, moving toward the stairwell. A faint pink glow emanated from his eyes as he sent a faint vibration out into the world around him. The small gesture reverberated out into the world to be reflected back to him, allowing him to sense movement beyond what even his keen eye could naturally see.

    He paused, taken aback by the lack of sound echoing against the walls of the stone tower. Aside from the guard’s haphazard footsteps, he could sense no other life nearby. Remy gritted his teeth, clenching and relaxing his fists as he allowed his shadows to take the lead up the stairs of the silent tower. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he turned the corner onto the next floor.

    Something ain't right.

    The thought lingered in his mind as Remy cast a glance down the corridors on this floor before sidestepping to the next set of stairs as he continued upward toward his mission. His eyes started to glow a faint pink as suspicion began to well in his chest. It was becoming readily apparent that the patrols were bare tonight. Remy had hardly seen more than a handful of guards as he'd slipped through the castle undetected.

    Remy bit his lip. He wasn't stupid. The choice was clearly intentional. The crown wouldn’t allow the secret of the century to leak into the general population, only to then strip down their guard to its bare essentials. There was no denying what was happening. He was walking into a trap and he was well aware of that fact.

    Regardless, Remy kept moving, allowing hi shadows to extending even farther ahead of him as an uncharacteristic nervousness fluttered in his chest. The kid probably wasn't even there, but his hands were tied. Someone had to find out what game the crown was playing at, and at this point, he would rather see the trap snap shut on his own neck than the weaker fae that would follow if he abandoned his mission now.

    The Fair Folk weren’t going to be satisfied until they found answers. So, with great reluctance, Remy’s eyes flared a bright pink as his shadows crept up the walls, swallowing the corridor into a pitch-black darkness. After all, let's be realistic. They may be forcing his hand, but that doesn’t mean he'd be going down easy. He'll be damn sure they have to work to bring him to his knees.

    His journey found its end as he stopped in front of the last door at the top of the stairs, finally he stood at the highest point in the tower. A fierceness filled his shadows movements as they twisted around him, curling into every nook and cranny of the corridor. Eyes flaring with power, he snarled as wisps of darkness seeped into the door frame and the latch to the door in front of him clicked open, allowing the pitch-black tendrils to rush across the threshold.

    Remy tensed as the door creaked open and he still. The glow in his eyes faltered at the sight before him. He'd expected to be greeted with a company of guards and at least a few deadly weapons, but the room appeared empty. A calmness hung in the air as a subtle, glimmer of the moonlight cascaded down from the narrow slit-like windows of the outer wall. Long, blue tapestries hung from the ceiling, waving as a draft breezed through the room. The room may even be peaceful if he weren’t so unnerved by its unnatural stillness.

    The silence was deafening. He was sure he would have heard the smallest pin drop on the far side of the room, but still not a sound filled the air around him. Instinctively, his tendrils of darkness curled around him in a comforting gesture as he pressed forward into the room. He may not have immediately been met with a dagger to his throat but an ambush still wasn’t out of the question, even if every one of Remy’s senses screamed at him that the room was empty. Almost as if to confirm his doubt, a soft whimper shattered the silence, stopping him in his tracks.

    Hesitant, Remy cast a last forlorn glance at his exit before stepping forward to turn the corner around a large, oaken bookcase. His senses were heightened. He found himself bristling as he caught sight of the back of the dark room for the first time, but his hesitation only lasted a moment. His shoulders immediately fell as he caught sight of the twin bed on the far wall. His heart stopped and he glanced warily around the empty room before rushing forward.

    A jolt of panic shot through him as the blankets shifted and he quickly ducked out of sight, watching carefully as a tuft of hair appeared at the head of the bed. He paused as another breathless cry escaped the lump of blankets, but curiosity edged him out of his hiding spot. Casting a suspicious glance at the door behind him, he stepped forward into the open space. The tuft slowly became a face as he loomed over the bed, shadows curling around him.

    Gods. He looks just like her.

    Remy didn’t have to look twice to know this was Tara’s son. The sandy brown hair and gentle look on his face was all the evidence he needed to know he'd ended up in the right room. In silent motion, Remy slid forward, unable to tear his eyes from the scrunched face of the kid tossing and turning below him.

    None of it made sense. He glanced to the door again. Suspicion burned in his chest as his shadows formed tight curls around him. The room should be crawling with guards. Surely, the kid was a prized possession to the crown if they had kept him for so many years.

    Ain't no way it’s that easy. So, what gives?

    And where’s Ta—

    Remy tensed as the kid's brow creased and a breathless gasp escaped from the child’s lips as he twisted in his bed and Remy's heart dropped.

    Nightmares.

    It would seem the kid had not been spared from the unfortunate side effects of the curse for which the child’s own mother was responsible.

    What were you thinking, Tara?

    Why'd you do it?

    Remy sighed, biting his lip as he stepped forward. His shoulders slumped and he shoved his fists in his pockets as he lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed. He found himself staring as the kid twisted, almost kicking out as the nightmare seemed to worsen. His heart sank and without thinking he reached down to push the kid’s hair out of his eye.

    Unfortunately for Remy, his comforting gesture seemed to jerk the kid awake and the darkness was violently pushed away as the room filled with a luminous, bright blue light. Remy shivered as the electricity passed through him, temporarily displacing his solid form with wisps of shadows. A shiver wracked his body as the shock passed through him harmlessly, but as Remy’s body solidified once more, he stopped stock still as a familiar blue light stared at him in the darkness.

    A solid moment passed before Remy rationalized that the glow was emanating from the from the dark was not in fact Tara. The soft, blue light staring back at him was the unfortunate, wide-eyed kid staring up at him after he'd been jolted upright in his bed to find a stranger looming over him.

    “Y-you—”

    A wave of panic surged through Remy's body as the kid started to stutter. He was going to be in hot water if the kid called out for help.

    “Hey, relax. Kid, I’m not going to hu—”

    “You’re like me.”

    Remy stilled in shock at the kid's statement until he realized his eyes were still glowing. He blinked, staring as the kid glanced around at his shadows swirling in the dark. His stunned expression gradually faded to a soft smile as the kid stared at the shadows curling around him.

    “That's right. I’m just like you, babes.” Remy curled his legs up on the bed, stunned as the kid's attention turned back to him. “No need to be afraid.”

    The kid barely even acknowledged him as his shadows wound around the edge of the bed. Remy’s shoulders eased and a soft smile spread across his face as the child’s quiet awe at the darkness swirling around him.

    “Girl, I promise they aren't that interesting.” Remy smirked as he leaned back his hands.

    The kid’s cheeks reddened as he ducked his head away, feigning a lack of concern as Remy’s presence. He seemed to stall for a moment before his attention was pulled back to the shadows shifting around them. “Are you making them?”

    “They’re a part of me.” Remy smiled as the kid curiously reached out as if to grab the shadows, making a disappointed face as his hand passed through the darkness. “I guess I lied. They’re pretty amazing. Don't you think?”

    The kid blinked before hesitantly reaching out to grab Remy’s wrist.  Remy couldn’t help but chuckle as the kid startled, clearly not expecting him to be solid. He could feel the glow of his eye flicker and fade and his dark wisps faded to gray.

    “Sorry.” The kid mumbled, scooting away as his cheeks darkened. “I didn’t mean to make you stop.”

    Remy smiled, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his knee as he watched the kid slide back nervously. “You really enjoyed my little trick. Didn't you, kid?”

    The kid stared at him with a quiet hesitance until his curiosity seemed to get the better of him. He gave a reluctant nod, looking up at Remy with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “Will you bring them back?”

    Remy hummed, pretending to think it over as the kid stared up at him. “Tell you what. If you answer my questions, I'll bring them out again."

    “Yes!” The kid faltered as Remy flinched from the sudden shout. He shrank back, dipping his head as he lowered his voice.

    “Love the enthusiasm, kid.” Remy smiled as the kid relaxed and unfolded his arms as he leaned closer to him. To see a child so calm with his shadows, let alone excited, was a rare sight but he wasn’t particularly surprised. The kid was literally woven together by the mistress of night herself.  

    “How ‘bout we start with your name?”

    “Logan.”

    “Beautiful, babes,” Remy smiled, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “But that’s not your whole name is it?”

    Logan tensed as his eyes flicked up. A faint blue light glowed in his eyes as he looked up at Remy. “Only bad people ask for the whole name.”

    “Oh, yeah?” Remy couldn’t help but smirk at the kid's indignation as he sat up straighter and distanced himself. “And who told you that?”

    “My mama.”

    Remy's heart sank as the kid's eyes glistened in the dark. He stared at the child as regret tightened in his chest. Tara's energy hadn't been felt on this realm or the next for the better part of a century, which meant more than likely since he was here, the kid hadn’t seen his mother in just as long.

    “It's fine, kid.” Remy's posture softened as the kid frowned at him. “She was right.”

    “What?”

    “Your name belongs to you alone. Anyone who asks for your true name is looking for trouble.” Remy whispered as a smirk twisted on his lips.

    “You asked for my name.” Logan's eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. “Are you bad?”

    “What do you think?”

    Logan blinked at him suspiciously as he fidgeted with his blanket in his hand.

    “Seriously, girl.” Remy flashed him a reassuring smile. “You woke up to a complete stranger in your room and you didn’t even flinch. Why?”

    The kid stared down at his lap, still fidgeting anxiously with the blanket. “Your feelings aren't scary.”

    Remy’s carefree smile faltered as he picked up on the nervousness radiating off the kid. He chewed his lip, clenching his fist as he carefully kept his voice calm. “You get a lot of people in here who scare you, kid?”

    “Not anymore.”

    The kid's soft mumble sent rage boiling in his chest as he watched the kid avoid his gaze. He stared for a long minute as he forced his posture to relax. “Listen, babes. You're not in any trouble, but if someone’s hurting you, it's safe to tell me. No one's laying a finger on you while I’m around.”

    Still fidgeting with his blanket, the kid's eyes darted up to him. “No one hurt me.”

    “You don't seem very sure about that.” Remy prompted hesitantly.

    The kid dropped his gaze. He crossed his arm across his chest, forcing himself to drop the blankets. “I-I don’t like the guards. Their feelings are bad, b-but they’re not allowed near me.”

    “You’re sure about that?”

    Logan nodded stiffly. “He doesn't even let them in my room anymore. If I say no, he makes them go away.”

    Remy blinked,  furrowing his brow in confusion. “Who?”

    “T-Thomas.”

    Now, it would seem that it was Remy's turn to stare. “The king?”

    Logan nodded nervously at him. “H-he's nice to me.”

    Remy’s shoulder slumped as the kid started to shake. “Listen, kid. I'm glad someone was around to keep you safe, but you’re smart to trust your instincts.” He paused, softening his voice as he slowly slid over to Logan. Leaning over to catch the kid's eye, he offered him a tentative smile. “I should’ve known your mama would have taught you right. She was always the best of us.”

    “You knew my mama?”

    “She was my friend, kid. Me, your mama and—” Remy paused. He could feel tears brimming in his eyes as memories of a past lost to time played in his head. A smile twitched at the corner of his lip as the kid’s head tipped up to him curiously. “Well, I guess that part doesn’t matter much, but we were friends for as long as I can remember, babes.”

    “What's that word mean?”

    Remy lifted his head to see the kid's wide-eyes staring at him. “What?”

    “Babes.” Logan asked, crossing his arms across his chest as he glanced down. “I've never heard that word before.”

    “It'sa term of endearment, kid.” Remy chuckled at Logan's blank expression.  “Means I like you.”

    “Oh. Thank you.”

    “Gods. You’re a riot, kid.” Remy leaned into the wall behind him. Even in the dim light, he could see the kid's blush darken as he looked up at him. “You really need to get out more.”

    Logan blinked at him, eyes shining in the dark as he stared at Remy. His gaze suddenly dropped from Remy guiltily.

    “You've got to be kidding me.” Remy’s fists clenched as his eyes glowed pink once more. “If you tell me these bastards don't even let you out of this room, I'm going to be breaking bones tonight, starting with that good-for-nothing king—”

    “Wait, no.” Logan shot up to his knees, holding his hands up at Remy. “Please, Thomas is nice to me."

    Remy‘s words stalled in his mouth as the kid squeaked out his protest. “Come again, hun?”

    “He visits every day and gives me books and teachers.” Logan whispered, breathless as he reached out to grab Remy’s arm as if to stop him. “Please, don’t hurt him. He’s a babes.”

    Remy stared at the kid hanging off his arms in wide-eyed shock. “That ain’t even remotely close to how you use that word, kid.”

    Logan’s grip tightened on his shirt and his breathing became ragged and irregular. Remy sighed as the kid let out a sob and he gently lifted his arm, curling it around kid’s shoulder. “Hey, now. Relax. I ain't actually going to lose my shit and start hurting people,” He smiled patiently as the kid stilled on shoulder, relaxing into his side. “but this isn’t normal. You should be playing with other kids, not boxed up in a tower with a bunch of humans lecturing you about the way of the world. Seriously, when was the last time you were outside?”

    “A few days ago.”

    The kid's whisper was so quiet he nearly didn't hear him and Remy couldn't resist raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “Really?”

    “I went up to the tower to see the stars.” Logan whispered, chewing his lip. “Thomas took me.”

    Remy sighed, pulling the kid into his shoulder. “Listen, you seem pretty quick on the uptake, kid. I know you know this isn't okay. Protecting you is one thing, but if he's not letting you out, that’s—” Remy paused as the kid started shaking under his arm. He stopped, softening his tone as he pulled the kid’s head into his chest. “Your mother would have wanted for you to be out exploring the world. She would have wanted you to be around your own—”

    “Doesn't matter.” Logan suddenly mumbled into his shoulder, interrupting him. “She's dead.”

    “What?” Remy blood suddenly ran ice-cold as he stared down at the kid. “Who told you that?”

    “She did.” Logan muttered absently. “The last time I saw her she said she wasn't coming back. She wanted me to be brave but—but I don’t want to do it anymore. I'm tired of it hurting. I don't want—”

    “Woah, kid. Take it easy now.” Remy hushed him with a gentle whisper. “Ain't nobody expecting you to be brave forever, babes. You’re just a kid.”

    “But—”

    “No. There's no ‘but'.” Remy interrupted him with a stern squeeze of the kid's shoulder. “That ends tonight. You've done enough.”

    The kid stilled underneath his arm, leaning into Remy's chest. His breathing slowly steadied as he tucked into Remy’s side.

    “Hun, we are getting you outta here.” Remy ran his hand through Logan’s hair, smiling as the kid's breathing became easier and he seemed to relax. It wasn’t long before small snores filled his ears and he allowed himself a chance to relax as the kid slept peacefully against his side.

    This damn kid.

    Remy knew this shouldn’t surprise him, but he hadn't truly expected to actually find the child.

    Tara's child.

    He glanced down at the kid sleeping on his shoulder. His assumption had always been that Tara had fled the realm, taking her child with her, but that was about as far from the truth as he could imagine. She was dead, leaving her poor orphaned child at the mercy of the humans who'd taken her life. Humans who clearly weren’t even willing to give the child any stretch of freedom.

    Gods, kid.

    How did everyone in your life fail you so spectacularly?

    Remy clenched a fist as he considered. The Unseelie court would expect him to hand the kid over. No doubt both fae courts would expect the kid to answer for his mother’s crimes, but he wasn’t about to let that happen.  Kid had suffered enough. He deserved a break.

    He deserves a home.

    Remy frowned. Whatever simple chance had decided to throw the kid in his path had sealed his fate. The kid was his responsibility now, and he wasn’t about to be part of the long line of adults who had failed him. He tensed as a small yawn passed Logan’s lips and he settled deeper into Remy’s shoulder. Any doubt in his mind about what he need evaporated in an instant as the kid melted into Remy’s side. The humans and the fae had already taken everything from this child. He wasn't about to let them take his life.

    Emile would find the kid a place to live a normal life, a life where he wasn't playing the pawn for a war that had started long before he was even born. No doubt, getting the kid to his friend in the countryside would be his first priority after leaving here, but that would have to wait. He let out a slow breath, snarling as he settled in for the night. First, he needed to have a conversation with a certain king.

---

    Thomas took the stairs in stride as he hastily climbed the tower, staying determined on his path even as his mind wandered. The footsteps of his guard echoed on the stone walls behind him, but the sound barely even registered through the thoughts bouncing around in his head.

    This had been his routine since he'd assumed the throne only a few, short years ago, yet somehow it seemed he hardly remembered a time when he didn't reluctantly leave his loving husband to tend to the court while he climbed these familiar stairs alone. He straightened his shoulders as he glanced up the narrow corridor. Nico had offered to bare some of the responsibility the mysterious fae child in the tower but Thomas could never bring himself to share burden of guilt with his husband.

    The child was the crown's most privileged secret, and as far as Thomas was concerned, its greatest shame. As a prince, he'd only heard tales of the fae child kept away in their towers. His tutors had told him of the dangers of the mythical child and he'd believed them until the day of his coronation as king. Only after he'd met the child had he realized the truth.

    The child was simply a child. Powerful, certainly, but hardly the ancient, wizened power that his father’s advisor had made him out to be. The first time he'd met Logan he had lit the entire tower up like the night sky during a storm. Brilliant lightning had struck nearly every surface of the empty room, except Thomas noted, where he and his advisors had stood.

    Convincing the child he meant no harm was months long process, but fortunately, the rain the child brought had given him an excuse to limit his public appearances. The process was slow but he was eventually able to remove the kid’s guards and give him a room more suitable for living. Thomas smiled at the memory. Logan had bristled and curled into his arms while the workers had installed his bookshelves, but when the boxes of books had arrived, he could barely even keep the child out of their way. He knew he spared no expense in giving the kid everything he could possibly need, and after a few months, the kid finally had a place he might be able to call home.

    Still, Thomas knew the tower was no place for a child, and now more than ever, shame wrenched in his gut as he reluctantly placed one step after another up the stairs. He felt himself holding his breath, unable to exhale as he waited to see whether the child would even still be there. It had been Nico's idea to return the Logan to the fae in the hope he may have a better life than he would have trapped in the tower. He'd happily agreed to it in the moment. The idea had seemed so perfect at the time, but once they'd talked through the details, it had quickly become apparent that Thomas could have no part in the hand off.

    The Fair Folk had no reason to trust any human after the sheer destruction his family had brought on their people, and both he and his husband feared, if the fae came for Logan and were met with a human contact, the fae may abandon him entirely. So, they'd leaked word out to the kingdom that the Logan was in the tower, hoping that one day, Thomas would go to visit the child and he would be gone.

    Regret twisted in his stomach as he considered their plan. Thomas thought he’d come to terms with their resolve not to intervene, but with each day that passed he could feel his regret growing. He hadn't considered the sleep he would lose over the kid’s safety or how painful the journey to the tower would be each day as he reluctantly pulled his lead feet up the stairs to check on the kid. He dreaded the day that he'd walk up to Logan’s room and found him gone, with no guarantee the kid had gone to a better life.

    Every day, he'd let out a long sigh of relief when the kid came bounding up to him. His muscles would slump as the kid rushed to into his arms, excited to tell him about the new books he'd read or the stars he'd seen out the window last night. He'd hoped that time would prepare him for the day the child was no longer in his hands, but each visit only seemed to make increase his dread that the kid may one day be gone.

    He chewed his lip as he paused outside the child’s door, trying to prepare for what was on the other side. A chill rushed over his hand as the morning breeze swept past him aandhis hands trembled as he reached forward to the door handle. Another day, he might have knocked, but it was still early, and he didn’t want to wake the kid if he was still sleeping.

    Thomas slowly twisted the door open, pushing it inward. The room was quiet as he ducked through the doorframe. Not a single movement broke the sight of the picturesque bookshelves forming a barrier between him and the kid. He swallowed, tensing as he stepped forward into the still room, quiet as he leaned around the bookshelf to check on Logan.

    Any hope in his heart quickly fell apart as he caught sight of the kid. He froze, paralyzed with fear, as his eyes lingered Logan. Narrow wisps of shadows curled around the face and body of the child as he lay limply in the arms of the monster wrapped around him.

    “Lo—”

    “Stay where you are.”

    Thomas' legs were suddenly rooted in place, no longer able to move forward as he stared helplessly at the kid. He nearly cursed out loud as shadows closed around Logan. He couldn’t eventell if the kid was breathing as the menacing shadows curled around his chest. Snarling, Thomas fought to step forward, resisting the magic that had bound him in place.

    “Let him g—”

    “Ah, careful.” The strange fae’s eyes glowed a brilliant pink as a sinister smile stretched across his face. “If one of your guards hears you, I may be tempted to flee and if that happens, you’ll never see the kid again.”

    Thomas hesitated as he turned his head up to the fae whose arm was wrapped around the child’s neck. The glowing pink eyes only served to intensify his fear as he recognized the man's signature snarl.

    “Sleep.”

    “Ah,” The fae’s almost chipper tone sent shivers down Thomas’ spine as his haze briefly flicked down to the kid paling in the powerful fae's arms. “So, our most honorable monarch has heard of me?”

    “Of course, I've heard of you.” Thomas snapped. “Your face is plastered on every other tree between here and the border. You're a criminal.”

    “I’ve seen the posters, babes. They really don't do me justice.” The powerful fae ran his fingers through the  kid's hair as his heated glare continued to burn holes into Thomas. “And tell me, what exactly is the crime of which I am accused?”

    “Smuggling—”

    “Oh, please. I deliver goods to those who need them. Food and medicine to the humans and fae who your family has determined unworthy of the crown’s assistance.” The fae snapped with a guttural snarl. “If you’d done your job, those people wouldn't have needed my help to begin with.”

    “They’re stolen goods.” Thomas growled back.

    “Stolen from those who didn't need them in the first place.”

    “Your bandits are thugs who threaten people, take their goods and leave them stranded in the middle of the forest.” Thomas rambled, losing his composure. “They break into people’s houses, leaving them penniless and afraid. Do not pretend what you do is justice.”

    “Wrong.”

    Thomas started at the finality of the man's word. “What?”

    “That’s not what happened. Not with a single one of those bastards who claimed they were robbed.” Sleep growled. “It's not my fault that a rich person's pride is worth more to them than the truth.”

    “What is that even supposed to—”

    “Every person who’s claimed to have been robbed by me made a choice.” Sleep whispered, glancing down at the kid. “The merchants in the city jump at the opportunity to do business with a fae. They made a deal, and they knew the consequences if they tried to wiggle their way out of the terms. Yet, their greed always got the better of them, assuming their money would protect them when they inevitably double-crossed me. They knew was they were doing. Just because they choose not to admit their own fault doesn’t make it mine.”

    “And you expect me to believe that?”

    “I do.” Sleep whispered. “You see your people’s greed every day. These people would sell their souls in a heartbeat, if it would increase their bottom line.”

    “Even if I believed that, you leave people bound and broken in the middle of city's square.” Thomas hissed in rage. “The insignia burned into their chest was yours. So, if you’re such a stand up member of your community, what excuse can you give for torture?”

    “I needed to send a message, yer majesty.” Sleep whispered, bitterness heavy in his tone as he stared down at the child.

    Thomas bristled. “It’s not a very effective message, if I didn’t catch the meaning of whatever that possibly have been meant to—”

    “That’s because the message wasn’t for you, babe.” Sleep snapped, baring his teeth at Thomas. “Believe it or not, you’re not my only enemy.”

    “What?” Thomas blinked in confusion as Sleep hissed at him.

    “What I did to those men was only a fraction of the terror they'd inflicted on the fae in their captivity and I refuse to take fault for punishing them for the atrocities they committed.”

    There was a brief moment before Sleep’s words registered in his mind. Thomas' shoulders dropped as the realization washed over him. “They were fae hunters."

    “Ain't a chance I’m allowing those bastard hunters to poach people in my own territory without consequences.” Sleep growled threateningly. “Unlike you, I actually protect the people under my care and I have no problem punishing those who would prey on those weaker than themselves.”

    Thomas’ posture softened as he caught a glimpse of kindness in the powerful fae's eyes. He paused, lost in the thought as his gaze dropped to the ground. “And what about the kid? What heinous crime did Logan commit that put him in your hands?”

    Sleep glared at him for a long minute before letting his gaze drop to the kid in his arms. “He existed.” 

    Thomas was silent, shocked by the simple words that left Sleep's lips.

    “The fae courts demand blood for his mother’s crimes, and since his mother’s dead, the debt falls to the kid’s shoulders.” Sleep's eyes darted up to Thomas in accusation. “Works out for you perfectly. Two fae lives lost to fix the terror your family caused and not a single price paid for the luxury given to you at their expense.”

    Thomas’ mouth hung open in disbelief. “They’re going to kill him?”

    Sleep scoffed at his blank expression. “Not exactly what you imagined when you abandoned him to the mercy of whatever fae plucked him from your tower?”

    “No, I only—” Thomas' shoulders slumped as he stared helplessly at the kid in Sleep’s arms. “I didn’t want him to be a prisoner anymore. Please, don't hurt him. He's just a child.”

    “It's a little late to be pleading for his life, Thomas.” The fae whispered menacingly as he ran his fingers through the kid’s hair.

    “He’s innocent.” Thomas whispered, desperately glancing down at the kid. “Please, he doesn't deserve to get hurt.”

    “I'm afraid your pleading is too little, too late, yer highness.” Sleep cooed dryly. “The kid's leaving with me today and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

    “Take me instead.” Thomas pleaded, desperately trying to move forward. His attempts to move were met with an immovable resistance. Sucking in a breath, he dropped to his knees.

    Sleep glanced up at him lazily. “No.”

    “You said yourself that it wasn't fair that two fae should pay the price for my family’s crime.” Thomas’ voice trembled with desperation as he stared at the kid in the fae’s arms. “If the fae courts demand blood, spare the kid and take me instead. Let me make things right.”

    Sleep cast a curious glance in his direction, but his resolution didn't falter. “Don't work that way, babes. Only the kid's blood breaks the curse, so only he can pay the price. Besides, don’t you got a husband expecting you to come home tonight?”

    “He would understand.” Thomas stiffened resolutely. “The kid's innocent. I'm not letting Logan become a casualty in a war he had no responsibility in starting.”

    Sleep hummed, stroking the kid's hair as he considered the king's words. “Seems a bit like the pot calling the kettle black to me.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “You’re barely more than a kid yourself, yer majesty. I was there when the gauntlet was cast, but you were born into this mess as much as he was.” Sleep whispered, quiet with contemplation. “Not that it matters. Kid's coming with me tonight. If he didn't, another less friendly fae would be by to collect him within the day.”

    “Less friendly than you?” Thomas growled, lifting his head just as Sleep held a single finger up at him. He watched as Logan stirred in Sleep’s arms, twisting as though he might wake. Thomas stared in disbelief as the powerful fae gently hummed, rocking the kid lightly until he lulled into a deep sleep once more.

    Sleep turned his sinister smirk back to Thomas as the child’s quiet snores filled the air. “Kid could have done worse than ending up in my hands.”

    Thomas’ mind went blank as he stared at Sleep. “Worse than the person who will deliver him to his death?”

    A soft chuckle passed Sleep’s lips as he leaned Logan back onto his pillow. The fae gently rose off the bed and strode over toward the king. Thomas startled as the spell binding him lifted and he jumped to his feet, stumbling back into the bookshelf as the fae grabbed his collar, looming over him.

    “How ‘bout we clear the air a bit, Tommy Boy?” Sleep’s voice sent shivers down his spine. “Kid’s coming with me, but I'm not bringing him to the faerie courts. I'll roll over dead before they get their claws into that sweet kid.”

    Thomas turned his head up to the fae's knowing smile. “You’re not going to hurt him?”

    “Nah,” The fae grinned down at the wide-eyed monarch. “I’m not one to play games with a kid's life.”

    “Then what was the purpose of this conversation, you bastard?” Thomas growled, pushing him away.

    “Oh, babes. Don’t know if you know this, but the kid’s pretty sweet on you.” The man chuckled grimly, circling around him as he pointed back at the kid. “I just had to know if you really lived up to all that hype.”

    Thomas' eyes flashed to Logan and his heart twisted with guilt. His moment of distraction was enough for the silent fae come up behind him, reaching an arm around him and pulled him close to the fae's chest.

    “So, what do you say?” The man cooed in his ear. “Do you want to make a deal?”

    “W-why would I do that?”

    “Because I'm not lying when I said I'm taking the kid.” Sleep leaned into him, breathing into his ear. “It's not safe for him here anymore. Fae are going to come sniffing around for him and he can't be anywhere close when they do.”

    “Where will you take him?”

    “Can't tell you that, babe.” Sleep chimed in his hear. “Like I said, fae are going to come looking for him and it's best you don't know the answer when they come asking questions.”

    “Then, what's the deal?” Thomas glanced at the glowing eyes on his shoulder. “What are you offering if its not to tell me where you’re taking him?”

    “Listen closely, my dear king. I can hide him, but it’s a temporary solution.” The man whispered seriously, as his grip loosened on Thomas’ shoulder. “Funny thing ‘bout being immortal is that all secrets come out eventually. The Unseelie court will find out I went rogue and they'll find the kid. It's only a matter of time.”

    “So—” Thomas’ voice trembled. “—what does that mean?”

    “Means we have to be ready.” The fae muttered in his ear.

    “How?”

    “There has to be another way around the curse. Nothing in nature has only one solution.” The man suddenly let go, swaying as he walked forward to Logan.

    “Sleep—”

    “Remy.”

    “What?”

    “I think we’re ready to be on a first name basis, babes.” Remy mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. “Name' Remy.”

    “Remy—” Thomas muttered, stepping up behind him. “—Do you really think you can do it?”

    “It’s not a matter of whether I can do it,” Remy whispered. He glowing eyes faltered and went out for the first time. “It’s a matter of how long it will take me.”

    “What do you need me to do?”

    Remy glanced up at the king’s resolute expression. “Every wanted poster with my face on it comes down immediately.”

    Thomas stared at him in shock, barely able to process what was happening. “Consider it done.”

    “Good,” Remy pointed at him. “The fae hunting stops.”

    Thomas quickly glanced down at Logan sleeping below them. “The hunters don't operate under the crown. I don't have any control over them—”

    “You do now.” Remy stated dryly, turning on Thomas with a snarl. “Girl, I am not abandoning the people under my protection. So, if you expect me to spend my time chasing for answers for the kid,  then it’s time to take responsibility for your worst citizens and do the job I've been graciously doing for you.”

    “Fine.” Thomas relented, immediately tensing as Remy loomed over him. He stepped back, keeping his gaze trained on the fae threatening him. “You’re right. I'll make it illegal. It should have been anyw—”

    “No. If you do that and you’ll drive the whole trade underground.” Remy growled, poking Thomas in the chest. “I haven’t spent my life tracking those bastards down to have you ruin all my hard w—”

    “Fine.” Thomas growled, pushing him away as Logan seemed to twist and turn beneath them. “What then?”

    “Not my problem.” Remy growled, leaning down to run his fingers gently across Logan’s cheek as he glared at Thomas. “Figure it out.”

    Thomas stared as the child stilled at Remy's touch. Logan curled quietly into the man's hand and Thomas could almost feel his breath catch in his throat as the child relaxed. “Fine. I will.”

    “Good. So, then we’re down to the last catch.” Remy whispered, turning to look at Logan as his thumb brushed against the kid’s cheek.

    "Which is?”

    “You’re going to have to forget the kid.” Remy sighed. “At least any of the details that would make him traceable.”

    “I know. It's—” Thomas bit his lip, unable the force out the word ‘fine'. It wasn’t fine. It was heartbreaking to imagine life without the kid’s bright smile. “It's—necessary. I know that.”

    “It's not forever.”

    “What?” Thomas lifted his head to find a surprising display of sympathy in the fae's eyes.

    “When the curse is lifted, I can give you your memory back,” Remy paused, watching the monarch’s expression fall. “And seeing as we are going to be working with each other, I can give you updates on the kid. You’ll have your full memory while we meet, but I'll have to take it from you in between our little meetings.”

    Thomas nodded stiffly. “Will he—will he remember me?”

    “No.” Remy shook his head as the king dropped his gaze. “For now, it’s best for him to know as little about his past as possible.”

    “Okay.”

    Remy forced himself to face the man’s disappointed expression. Slowly, his hand dropped from the kid’s face and he rose to his feet as he extended a hand to the man in front of him. “So, Tommy boy, do we have a deal then?”

    The king hesitated only a moment before clasping a hand into that of his unexpected ally. “We do.”

---

General Taglist:

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@cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname @ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @croftersphoenix @optimistic-violinist @croftersjam15 @actitus-hypoleucos @unbefuckinglieveable @justthatamount @eeveeeclair246 @taxicabinmemphis @theoddkidnextdoor @bluerosesbleedred @bowties--cool @lookingforaplacetosleep @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @007ardra @im-actually-ok @grayson-22 @lunatatic @hope340 @itawalrus @dwbh888

[thefools-journey]

The Tarot in Love

AKA QUICK TAROT META

So. Apparently a lot of Arcana fans don’t understand or know the connection between the LIs and their tarot cards. This will be a quick primer on said tarot cards and how they influence the LI routes. It’s important to note that most cards have multiple domains and influences. The type of reading, the question posed, and the other cards within the reading will determine which domain or influence is being accessed.

Before we start, note that every single LI begins their route on the Reversed Path. A Reversed Card in this game means that the card’s energy is stuck and something is preventing its full expression.

ASRA THE MAGICIAN

The Magician’s main domains circle Action. The Magician knows what he wants and goes after it, damn the consequences. If he is committed and willing, he makes miracles happen. He is the kinetic energy to the High Priestess’ potential energy. As the MC says in the prologue when they pull this card (for Nadia), this card signals that the time to act is now. 

Asra begins his route full of inaction. Sure, he seems like he is on the go and doing things but in reality, he is paralyzed. He has allowed his ties to Muriel and Nadia decay in favor of the MC. He hasn’t acted on vital information only he knows. He has lost his purpose, his drive, for knowledge, for love, etc. Some of this is down to his caregiver role with the MC - Asra cannot act or do much of anything in that quarter without risking the MC's health. Most of it is down to the year from hell ™ where Asra learned just how far he will go and just how powerful and ruthless he can be for those he loves. The year from hell ™ demonstrates exactly what the Magician is made to do. Asra scared himself really badly here. So he starts the route in a sort of limbo. Key to his Upright ending is widening his world, making the Magician understand that what he fights for is not just himself, his narrow goals, and loves but something much bigger.

NADIA THE HIGH PRIESTESS

The High Priestess deals in a few interlocking domains. She guards the boundaries between the mundane and the mysterious. She is the great potential waiting to be unlocked. Arguably, she is magic itself. She is the inner voice, that gut feeling, that intuition you cannot explain but know is right. She asks you to trust that part of yourself.

Nadia's route is arguably the best balanced in terms of the magical and mundane storylines. This is no accident. This balance is fundamental to the High Priestess' domain. When her route begins, Nadia trusts no one, not even herself. Thanks to missing nine years’ worth of memories, she understandably feels adrift. She has no idea what is going on and who to trust. Nadia’s only real tethers, and they are tenuous ones, are to Portia and the MC, the latter of whom she hopes can somehow help her. The year from hell ™ even if she no longer remembers it, also played a large role in starting her down the Reversed path. More than once, Nadia admits to withdrawing, emotionally, physically, and mentally, from the outside world as a way to cope. This was not a strategic or necessary withdrawal as her Birthday memory makes clear: together with Asra and Julian, the three of them could have held together and figured out a path forward. It wouldn’t have been easy, of course. But the very real danger in Nadia’s route is her belief that she and she alone must make things right, which goes against the High Priestess’ ways. The High Priestess sees potential in all around her. If Nadia turns away from that part of her which begs her listen and reach out, she is truly lost. Nadia’s Upright Ending requires her to find balance between what she can know and what she must simply have faith in, to be the boundary between the known and unknown. It requires her to learn how to trust not only others but herself again.

MURIEL THE HERMIT

The Hermit is searching for something. Not something from the outer world but something from within. Some mystery needs solving, some understanding needs creating, a higher call needs answering. He turns inward for answers, though he will seek or receive guidance from trusted sources. Through his search, he will create a still center, a solid, unbreakable foundation to call upon in times of high action and stress. Through this struggle, the Hermit can become that guide for others, focusing and directing their own journeys.

Muriel's route is the most fascinating and difficult of the routes because the Hermit's journey is by definition an internal one. Want to know why his route is so wrapped up in taking him out of his every day world and forcing him to discover his past? That’s why; it is a way of externalizing the very internal struggle for validation and focus the Hermit embodies. When his route begins, Muriel very literally has withdrawn from the world. And not just any world, but a world craving his experience and expertise. Of all the characters, Muriel has the most information on what is happening and why, above and beyond even Asra. Muriel holds the keys to so many happy endings and yet, he has chosen to be forgotten and isolated. As with Nadia, this retreat was not a strategic one but one borne of fear. Muriel has the knowledge and allies to handle the challenges which he faces. What he lacks and what he is building in his route is the internal fortitude, the stable foundation necessary to not only survive the challenges which come for him but to thrive and defeat them. The genius of this route’s Upright Ending is that the MC is building this fortitude right alongside Muriel, guiding him and being guided in turn. The MC protects Muriel, guiding him back into the larger world with a caring hand and back to rely on. In turn, Muriel answers the higher calling within himself to face the Devil. He solidifies his foundational revelations and becomes a guide in turn towards the Devil’s defeat. Make no mistake, when the foundation is as rock hard as that pair will be, the fiercest storm is no match.

JULIAN THE HANGED MAN

The Hanged Man is a card of waiting, potentiality, and knowing surrender. Some say it is a card of martyrdom but really it’s a card about sacrificing and letting go, winning through stepping back and allowing things to happen to you. The Hanged Man suspends action, waiting for some unknown or a revelation. Through the paradox of stepping back or surrendering, the Hanged Man finds what he needs to achieve victory. When you see the Hanged Man in a general reading, it’s asking you whether the actions you’re taking are having the opposite effect that you intended. It asks you to let go and step back. 

Julian begins his route like he begins most things: with a dramatic flair just before he faceplants. Julian is flailing every which way with no rhyme or reason. Because he has lost so much control over his life, he tightens his grip on what little he can control. He leads the MC on, then unceremoniously drops them before they can drop him or be hurt. He has taken the entire world and all its consequences on his shoulders. Julian feels out of control and unable to slow down, process, and wait. Most of his restless catastrophizing stems from the year from hell ™- he watched countless thousands die, failed to stop it, and woke up with no memory and a murderer’s brand on his hand. It’s only when he begins to let go, to allow people to make their own decisions and minds towards him that things start to turn around for him. His Upright Ending rewards players who reinforce the Hanged Man’ lessons: you cannot control everything, nor should you try, and sometimes it’s doing what feels wrong (in his case, letting others help him shoulder his burdens, just try to count how many times he says something along the line of ‘it’s wrong for others to want to help me’) that leads to victory.

LUCIO THE DEVIL

The Devil is a card about power and control, who and what has it in your life. This can manifest in a myriad of ways, from feeling out of control to obsessing over things and people to actively controlling others. The Devil is usually a warning card, a sign that something or someone has an unhealthy hold over you (or that you have an unhealthy hold over someone). The Devil also deals in materialism and the obsession with status. Again, this goes back to the power and control domains. Some interpretations also add ignorance to the Devil’s domain, which can also be traced back to his control domain. If you are unaware of something, you cannot take control of it. The Devil asks you to reevaluate and reassess what and who you allow to have power in your life. It asks you to retake responsibility for your own destiny.

Lucio begins his route as a literal shade of a man, a shell of his former self, unable to interact with the world he so slavishly desires. This is the debt he has accumulated through a lifetime of irresponsibility, an obsession with instant gratification, and a desperate need to be seen by others as powerful, desirable, and control. In his quest to become the most powerful man on the planet, he has instead wound up with nothing, completely ignorant as to the cause of his circumstances. This is why he is stuck as the Devil's least favorite whipping boy. If Lucio had taken responsibility and come clean, even back when he was dying, he could have avoided the worst of his problems. As it stands, he is still dodging responsibility, allowing his obsessions to dominate his life, and ensuring his mistakes continue to compound against him. That is why getting him to own up and regain control of himself is key to his Upright Ending. It sounds cruel but that hard, grinding self reflection is the only way he stands a chance of fully, utterly breaking his chains.

PORTIA THE STAR

The Star is a card of peace, hope, clarity, and truth. It is that small light in the dark, asking you to endure the night. It tells you that you have the tools to do so. Keep your hope, find your peace, and hold to your truth. The end of your journey is in sight. It is a card of seeing and knowing, not action.

I already wrote a huge meta on Portia's route and how her status as the Star impacts it. Portia begins her route hurting from and hoarding secrets. She wants to find the truth but has given up almost all hope of uncovering it. Despite knowing the costs of keeping people in the dark, Portia continues doing so, a silent observer too paralyzed and overwhelmed to act on the truths she knows. The most obvious demonstration of this is her dealings with Nadia. Portia has worked with her for months but hasn't told her about Julian, her literacy, and her invitation. Telling Nadia these truths would solve several of Portia's problems but she can't bring herself to do it due to fear. Her route is all about truths, exposing them or hiding them. Key to her Upright ending is getting her to act on her truths and bring them to light. Knowing the truth isn’t enough if you aren’t willing to act on it.

-Telos

[therealvagabird]

The Days of Clay - Pt. 1: Lands and Oceans

Another setting concept! This one for a paleo/neolithic world. I’ve had the urge to make this kind of thing for a while now, but I finally got done with the editing.

You can read the full setting rundown all at once on my WordPress. But I will also be posting it in separate parts here on Tumblr depending on your viewing preferences.

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The world is vast, yet humanity is small. Wilds stretch all about, dwarfing even the largest stone houses of Man. It is a primordial era, when the thinking folk knew not the strength of metal, nor the heights of civilization. Most are born and die knowing but a fraction of all the world about them, or if not, braving seas and lands filled with ravenous monsters of a forgotten age. These are the first days, the longest days, the eternal waking dream of those who first knew what it was to tell stories.

In the Days of Clay, humanity exists scattered across many continents and isles in a world of vast seas and dangerous wilds. Great beasts of ages past hunt humans like vermin, and the elements are often the most dangerous foe of all. Fine resources which would allow for technological advancement are rare. Copper and tin are like gold and jewels, though in turn tribals may make extensive use of saurian bones, the carapaces of giant insects, and other exotic materials. Most tribes live confined to tiny fractions of their homeland or hop from island to island in endless seas with nothing but the stars as their guide. Yet others may roam far and wide, or travel from land to land should they be so brave. Though advanced metallurgy and the heights of empire are yet unknown, humanity is not always so “primitive”. In many places there can be found great cities of stone, or gathering places of many tribes, leveraging the power of cooperation. Likewise some crafters may do things with rock and wood and leather that would put even iron-based technologies to shame. Magic is absent, but spirituality is everywhere. The Days of Clay are a time of diversity, danger, and possibilities.

The Thirteen Lands and the Seven Seas

Continents:

Ancient Land of Sakha

Within the waters of Asra, the Great Blood Sea, the old continent of Sakha stands as it has since time immemorial. Not the largest landmass, it nonetheless has many arable river-lands hidden deep within its interior clefts, and numerous peninsulas and nearby islets which have made the coasts a boon for seafaring tribes. The Sakhan peoples are among the most diverse of any continent, having mastered mountain-climbing, boat craft, basic riverside agriculture, and even the domestication of certain beasts of burden. It is the claim of the Sakhan shamans that their land is the oldest in the world, and the birthplace of Manu and Manya – the first humans created by the gods.

Sakha’s climate is very hot, with mountain ranges erupting from broad highland deserts. Within the gaps of these mountains, however, can be found riverways which give rise to flourishing green sanctuaries. Out to the ocean, the bounty of the Blood Sea is abundant, and many tribes stake their claims upon nearby islands, pursuing dangerous seacraft to trade goods between the Sakhan mainland and the outer isles – sometimes even to the far neighbors of the Blood Sea.

Native flora of Sakha includes varieties of desert palms, coniferous trees, and hearty broad-leaf shrubs. Low-lying vegetation is common, and hundreds of varieties of grains, fruits, and aromatic herbs either have their origin in Sakha or were brought there through gradual trade across Asra. Fauna includes many mammalian varieties, including large goats, camels, some pygmy horses, and cattle. Big cats and jackals constitute predator species, and although there are not many saurians to be found upon Sakha, there are a great many enormous snakes and arthropods both in the deserts and along the coasts. Ape-Men are also prominent in the south and east, though not all of their tribes are hostile.

The peoples of Sakha tend to be darker-skinned due to the harsh sun of their home, though are sharp of feature and their hair is less kinky than tribes to the south. Sakhan peoples are as a whole regarded to be more “civilized” than most of their neighbors, having pioneered trends of building, copper-craft, boat building, and other technologies throughout their history. There are hundreds of gods in Sakha, though many of the shamans and priests seem to give reverence to the same higher concepts of “light” and “shadow”. Battles between entire tribes over supposed disputes between their gods are not uncommon. The Sakhans are also noted traders and travelers, sometimes being found on entire other continents after long and adventurous sea-voyages most in their right mind would never consider.

Batyr, Land of Wolves

To the northeast of the Blood Sea there juts a prominent chain of mountainous isles, stretching further and further east all the way into the deeps of the frozen north. The coastlines of Batyr are treacherous to sailors who do not know their secrets, but they hide a hidden boon. Just about the tip of the Land of Wolves there can be found its broad steppelands, which though culminating in snowy barrens at their furthest reaches are some of the most bountiful wilds in all the world. Vast forests and open plains filled with game, if one can just brave the harshness of the winters. To the south, the mountain ranges are less prominent, meaning that those who wish to reach Batyr from outside must know their way about the island-jumps, and the coastal tribes of Batyr are themselves more disposed toward heading south into the Ocean of Tiham than the western Blood Sea.

Though temperate for most of the year, the winters of Batyr are biting cold and can freeze unguarded humans where they stand. Most of the flora that isn’t woody steppe-shrubs are tall and mighty growths of oak and pine which have endured countless years beyond the memories of the oldest shamans. Saurians are unheard of, along with most great reptiles, and any cold-blooded beasts must seek refuge deep underground. Batyr’s greatest wealth and greatest danger, therefor, is held within its name. Massive mammals can be found all throughout the far country’s wilds, from towering mammoths, to great god-birds, and the fearsome dire wolves. There is nary a beast of fur and fang anywhere across the thirteen continents that cannot be found in a larger and more terrible form within Batyr.

Batyrian folk tend to be pale of skin and hairy of body, though darker tribes may also be found, either from ancient mixings with wayward natives of other lands across the Blood Sea, or from tribes out in the distant east. Hair colors come in many ranges, and beards are as popular as anywhere to keep back the chilling winds. Furs are worn in absence of less durable fabrics. Though many are happy to trade, Batyrians have a fearsome reputation, as they are also known to be raiders, and many of the wilder tribes maintain gruesome practices stemming from a single-minded desire for survival. The hunting of large game has bred a people who are not to be trifled with, channeling the unstoppable spirit of the mighty wolf.

Darkest Ar-Nung

Far to the south, beyond the furthest expanse of the Ocean of Tiham, there lies a hidden land where few have journeyed. Though in ancient times humanity did in fact reach those far shores, not but a paltry handful have ever come in or out ever again. South of the very tip of the Hinterlands of Siral’ik, Darkest Ar-Nung dwells across the stormy seas. It is a desert land of great peril, where all must struggle to survive. Though known for its searing and mind-baking heat, to the very south the mountains of Ar-Nung connect to the great ice which blocks off the shadowed reaches of the frozen lands. Travel to Ar-Nung in near impossible save for the savviest of seafarers from Siral’ik who know the way to hop across the island chains of Tiham to eventually reach Ar-Nung’s stormy northern shores. Though there are said to be lands in the frozen wastes beyond Ar-Nung’s most southern mountain ranges, those reaches go unnamed save for being considered to be part of Ar-Nung, as no human has ever journeyed so far into that icy hell and lived.

Within Darkest Ar-Nung there are many perils. It is not just the unforgiving climate and ferocious predatory monsters one must be wary of in the broad deserts, but also the numerous subtle ways one might be killed. Tiny arthropods and reptiles hold enough venom to kill even their titanic cousins in a single bite, while flora of the most beautiful hues – some even resembling their useful or edible counterparts – may likewise inflict a horrid and agonizing death on any who even touch them. Places where water might be found are no less dangerous, as great crocodiles and sharks lurk within the rivers and along the coasts, fit to swallow a grown warrior whole. Meanwhile, to the south, the frozen mountains which lead into the uncharted ice-lands hold untold horrors none have ever braved, from fabled frost-wights and storm-dragons to unnamed, hungering things deep within the mountain caves.

Despite this, the peoples of Ar-Nung are regarded to be rather intelligent and unaggressive, having mastered the delicate art of survival in such a country over many generations, and averse to undue risk and conflict when there is already such peril in their home wilds. They are a dark-skinned folk, even so dark as natives to lands like distant Noba Rugna, though their features do not in any way resemble those of their neighbors, possessing weather-worn faces and bristling hair. The Ar-Nung tribes may be found all about their continent, even within the mountains of the south, and those few who have ever managed to journey to Ar-Nung and back have told stories of those strange and silent folk who engage in all manner of bizarre rituals to ward off misfortune and evil. It is the necessity of the Ar-Nung tribes to know the spirit of every plant and animal upon their country, as to harbor uncertainty is to be subject to a sudden death.

Etlen Rugna

The land known as Etlen Rugna is in fact a jagged and mountainous continent divided up into many smaller regions by prominent inland seas along with numerous lakes and rivers. It dominates the western reaches of the Blood Sea, with its north coming close to the outer isles of Fjallgarth, while its south is likewise not too far by island-hopping from Sakha. Numerous tribes have made the diverse climes of Etlen Rugna their home for long ages, warring and trading in equal measure, enjoying the bounty of what some would call the most plentiful of all mankind’s lands. To the west of Etlen Rugna is the Etlen Udra – the Etlen Sea, which few have ever dared to cross. A quite skilled shipmaster might be able to make it to Frozen Nunaat by way of Fjallgarth, though many upon Etlen Rugna’s shores know nothing of the cousin-continent with which their share a name – Guarana Rugna.

The northern reaches of Etlen are vibrant, seasonal, and rich with many landscapes from soaring mountains to gentle prairies. Rivers, lakes, and inland seas are all commonplace, as well as deep and temperate forests. To the south, weather becomes hotter, culminating in biting deserts to the far south, dotted with oases of palms and other tropical flora. Animals upon Etlen are as diverse as the landscapes or the people, though most are not so large or intimidating as those that might be found upon other continents more suited to their climes – smaller breeds of mammoth are relegated to the furthest northern tundra, for instance, whereas saurian are found upon the outer isles and peninsulas of the far south. Within certain reaches, ape-men might even be encountered in not inconsiderable gatherings. Etlen Rugna is a vast land, though crossing its many wilds is no easy task, dwarfing neighbors like Sakha. Even trade within Etlen’s borders is not always so commonplace.

Just as with their homeland, the peoples of Etlen are varied in appearance and practice. To the north, they become more fair of complexion, whereas to the south their skin and hair becomes darker and rougher, as with each river-gap and mountain pass their roaming territories become more like the harsh deserts and jungle isles across the sea. It’s in the south and east that tribes tend more towards basic practices of agriculture and weaving, while in the north their industries are more inclined towards fishing, hunting, and raiding. There are hundreds of gods and spirits worshipped across Etlen Rugna, and in times of scarcity some of the greatest and most unforgiving bloodlettings have occurred, as tribes turn upon any outside of their immediate kin. The diversity of Etlen fosters as much xenophobia and hatred as it does cooperation and understanding, and even travelers from lands as schismatic as Sakha have remarked on the pains every Etleni takes to distinguish their tribal identity from all others, as confusing one Etleni folk with another is often a grave offense.

Far Anpe and the Islands of Fire

Across many of the far seas to the west, across the Etlen Udra, and the K’aino Udra, and the Devil Sea of Xulub, there is a distant country at the furthest reaches of the world’s shores. This is Far Anpe, a hidden range of mountain isles crowned with fire and watered with mystery. Formed of a grand chain of volcanoes, Far Anpe is most treacherous about its northern and southern tips, where the peaks are still young, and new mounts are prime to be born from the boiling waters of Xulub and the polar ice. Separated from the jungles of its sister-continent Guarana Rugna by the K’aino Udra – the K’aino Sea – Far Anpe is composed of tall mountains in its near entirety. Those places not defined by colossal peaks are fertile beyond compare thanks to the rich black soil, and on the sloping foothills leading out to the sea house numerous tribes who have built civilizations to rival the stonework citadels of distant Sakha. Save for trade with Guarana or the south tip of Dziil, the Anpean peoples go unknown to the rest of the world.

It is said in the ancient stories that the first Anpean tribals were among the most adventurous and daring of all folk in the world, until they came to the Islands of Fire from beyond the northern sea. Their heroic chieftains claimed that these peaks were in fact the gates of hell, and that just beyond – should they be so bold – the promised land of paradise awaited them. Finding the mountains and green slopes of Anpe, the tribes settled there at last, content that they had found their promised land. Most of the Anpean tribes control fortified encampments placed within the mountain clefts, which they use as communal shelters when not engaging in nomadic herding and foraging. Dangerous beasts like snow-jaguars and giant snakes might be found in the clefts, but for the most part the deadlier saurian are relegated to neighboring Guarana Rugna. Long-necked camels provide wealth to the herder tribes, whose wool they trade with the fisher-folk and mountain-dwellers. In certain hidden valleys, large mammals such as the lumbering shellbacks and giant sloths may provide adequate challenge for hunters, and to the south, the very earth heaves with fiery hunger. Apeans tend to have dark skin and hair, do not often grow beards, and have sharp features. Though small in stature, the Anpean people are fair of face and enduring of body and soul, descended from great warriors and grown even stronger off the bounty of their sacred homeland.

Fjallgarth

Northernmost of those continents that border Asra, the Great Blood Sea, the very name Fjallgarth inspires fear in the hearts of those folk who set their tents upon Etlen Rugna’s coldest shores. To the more distant Sakhan, should they be versed enough in stories brought from traveling tongues, it is a name that belongs to a strange land, where the people are white as the snow they wade through. The homeland of the fabled giants. Some stories are more fantastical than others, but save for Frozen Nunaat or other climes within the cold wastes of the icy Skathon Sea, no continents are as frigid and brutal as Fjallgarth.

Mountains, icebergs, fjords, and sharp valleys mark most of Fjallgarth’s landscape. Its coasts are near all intractable to outside sailors, no matter how fine-built their canoes or rafts are built. Sea-serpents dwell in the waves, along with kraken, sharks, and whales of colossal size. Yet this does not deter the brave natives from fishing within the rich yet chilling waters. Inland, there are reaches which can be found which are not so rocky and hard, and indeed many wild stretches where the sun is warm in summer and no sight of snow is to be had in the hot months save for crowning the distant peaks. Yet in the distant north, where both Fjallgarth and Batyr meet the icesheets of the Skathon Sea, even the great mammoth and dire bear struggle to stave off the cold. It is told in the fables that hairy men who feast on human flesh, along with giants who can command the powers of blizzards and wildfires can be found in those treacherous wastes beyond where even the most fearless raider chief might travel.

The folk of Fjallgarth are similar to those of northern Etlen, being fair of skin and hair, though yet moreso than their more temperate southern cousins. They grow to prodigious sizes and are fond of wearing enough furs to match their own hirsute appearances, and engaging in a warrior lifestyle which puts most other folk of Asra to shame. Fjallgarthan tribes are also known to be skilled seafarers, having constructed boats capable of reliable island-hopping. While the Fjallgarthan raiders might build no great temples or broad gathering-grounds – at least not as the southeasterners do – the northmen have been spotted in as far-away lands as Sakha and Noba Rugna.

Frozen Nunaat

Few have traveled to Frozen Nunaat since the ancient days of its settling by humankind. Even the ape-tribes have little to do with the vast wasteland, but for those who dare the gnashing ice, it can be a country of great plenty. From the more temperate volcanic isles in the south rich with fir trees and good fishing, to the prime whaling shores of the icy north, there is more to Frozen Nunaat than its name suggests. Laying beyond the reaches of Asra, in the depths of the cold Skathon Sea, Nunaat is said by some to be the home of frost giants or other mythical beasts.

Most of the continent consists of broad tundra, hence its name, though this is not the totality of its landscape. Along the south shores there is some resemblance to Fjallgarth in terms of the wilds consisting of a blend of pine forests, fjords, and warmer volcanic wastelands and outlying isles. It is here that settlers from Fjallgarth wage intermittent battles with the native folk, though trade of furs and other goods is also common. Fish and game birds are in plenty, and in many ways the southern parts of Nunaat are not so lesser in wealth nor hospitality than places like Etlen Rugna. The winters are harsh, indeed, but any who settle there are well accustomed to them save for the worst of years. Northward, where the distinctions between land and sea become blurred by virtue of the all-encompassing ice, things are less endurable. Most of the interior is considered a hellish desert to all but the most determined of overland travelers, devoid of oases and cold the whole year round. Even in the warmer months, when one might not have to contend with blizzards and endless night, that is the time when the wolves and bears begin their migrations, hungry after the dark months. Yet in the north there is still bounty to be found. Great whales, seals, and penguins migrate along the north shores, and the native Nunaatun peoples display a skill for harpooning that outstrips even the barbaric Fjallgarthans.

Nunaatun tribals, separate from the Fjallgarthan outcasts who have since made semi-permanent encampments upon the south shores, tend to be short of stature and thick of bone. They grow abundant hair, though beards are less common, and their skin tends to be dark from the constant sun-glare off the snow. In many ways they resemble the folk of distant Anpe or Siral’ik, though to see any of those human strains in one place would be a rare sight indeed. Though overall a peaceful people more focused on survival than grander designs of migration or war, they are among the few folk who the Fjallgarthans will speak with reverence of, as it is said by them that when the nights grow dark and the winds cold, nothing will stop a Nunaatun from doing what they must to survive.

Guarana Rugna

East of Anpe, surrounded on three sides by the seas of Xulub, K’aino, and Etlen Udra, the jungles of Guarana Rugna are as deep and green as any abyssal waters. From the highest peak to the lowest river-valley – of which there are hundreds upon hundreds – the verdant plant life of Guarana coats the entire breadth of the continent. Hot, humid, and lush with a diverse menagerie of flora and fauna, the many tribes of Guarana have all they need to survive and more – and even more ways to meet an unfortunate end. Survival-craft is a necessity, even by typical human standards, and river-canoeing is a popular method of navigating the otherwise intractable jungles.

Not all of Guarana is composed of forest – there are also wetlands, grassy plains, and a few small deserts, but for the most part, jungled sprawl coats the majority of the land. Were the trees to be stripped away, it would be seen that Guarana Rugna has a landscape as varied in altitude and natural wonder as any, though this can be hard to tell when trekking through boundless jungle reaches, shrouded by trees which look mountainous in their own right. Saurians are plentiful, and larger mammalians are scarce. Humans, apes, and other warm-bloods must be quick and observant to avoid being snatched up by a stalking pterosaur or raptor, and even great carnosaurs may camouflage themselves within the sheer density of the foliage. Great serpent-leeches and rope-spinners can snatch a whole human up from above or below, yet that is not all. Beautiful flowers and insects as small as a fingernail can deliver agonizing death before an unlucky creature has had time to realize what their lack of awareness has brought upon them. Guarana Rugna is a land of a thousand beauties, and a thousand dooms.

Yet the tribes of Guarana love their home and the bounty it brings, having had their senses honed to obsidian sharpness over long generations, learning from their surroundings so that even the mighty devilsaurs may not tear down their tree-houses, and the quetzal-boa would prove no greater threat than a songbird – when met with a dart coated in harvested manchineel poison. Guaranan folk tend to be short of stature and dark of hair, though their skin tones are very diverse, as some may spend most of their lives shrouded by the heavy foliage, and others baked to a deep brown beneath the coastal sun. Dense body and facial hair is uncommon due to the humidity and heat, though the Guaranans are fond of body paint for many purposes – clan identification, imitation of poisonous creatures, religious use, or camouflage. Though quite skilled at the building and utilizing of river-canoes, as well as high-altitude construction, the Guaranans have never been inclined towards trade beyond the waters, save for a few ambitious peoples who ply the island chains between their northern shores and the south coasts of the Leghen Alps, and a few others who dare cross the K’aino sea to trade with the affluent Anpean peoples.

Himaleh Vistra

East of the Ancient Lands of Sankha, north of the Ocean of Tiham, there is a strange and jagged land considered quite intractable despite its location at a crossroads of several continents. Himaleh Vistra is named for its great mountains, larger than any in all the myriad ranges which dot the shattered lands across the seven seas. To the north of the Vistran range lays little but desert and tundra steppe, yet to the south the river-broken coasts are lush with jungles. It is an overall misshapen land, carved up by peaks and ravines, rivers and gulfs, which have made it notorious as a confusing hinterland for any who dare make the journey to its shores. Yet many have made that journey, for not unlike those peoples who huddle around the Blood Sea, Himaleh Vistra’s central location in the world means that its beaches may oft be landed upon by visitors from far Siral’ik, from Sakha, and even Noba Rugna. If one dares make the trip to Himaleh Vistra in search of rarities not to be found on their home continent, they will be rewarded by seeing more diversity and exotic beauties than most humans would ever bear witness to in their simple lives.

The Vistra range is Himaleh Vistra’s namesake and most prominent feature, composed of a meandering chain of colossal mountains which stretch from east to west, between the closest gaps of Siral’ik and Sakha. A diverse country, most of those hills north of the Vistra range are composed of steppe and tundra, much like the nearby reaches of Batyr and Siral’ik. These other northern steppe-lands are separated from Himaleh Vistra by little more than the straits of the Skathon Sea, and during the coldest winters vast stretches of that ocean may freeze over, allowing mammoths and their hunters to cross should they be so ambitious. To the south, Himaleh Vistra is much more hospitable, lush with deep jungles and fertile riverlands where many tribes make their homes. Saurians might be found, along with ape-tribes as can be encountered across the entire breadth of that continent. Giant snakes are also a common threat and are worshipped by some tribal sects as living gods. Himaleh Vistra is noted as having some of the greatest diversity of flora and fauna of any continent the world over.

Those people who call Himaleh Vistra their home appear quite like the denizens of Sakha in many ways, though they tend to be darker of skin overall. Among the peaks and to the northern steppes, these Vistrans can be seen to have lighter skin, and some with features more like their neighbors in Siral’ik. The divide between the different regions of Vistra is quite pronounced, with the dwellers of the coasts and foothills considering the jungle-tribes to be more primitive than them, while both the southern cultures regard those who live north of the Vistran range as being little more than barbarians. Despite this, the Vistrans are noted to be quite accepting of outsiders, as they have gathered much wealth by aiding enterprising seafarers in finding safe harbor on their jagged shores. The Vistrans have the privilege of being some of the few people to realize that the scope of the world far exceeds the borders of their homeland, and in turn their trade of rare goods has let other tribes realize this truth as well. To find an artifact crafted in far Siral’ik while one is bartering in an Etleni encampment can be attributed to a Vistran trader somewhere down the line.

Hinterlands of Siral’ik

To the furthest north and east, across numerous islands and twisted stretches of land between the Ocean of Tiham and the Skathon Sea, there are the Hinterlands of Siral’ik. Though few journey there, the cultures of that distant country rival even great Sakha in what they have accomplished since their first settling. While goods from Himaleh Vistra are valued in their own right, for a western trader to find an item from Siral’ik is the best of luck, so lauded is the craftsmanship of the mysterious peoples of that mysterious land. Jungle, highlands, forest, desert – all climes may be found in Siral’ik, across the Hinterland’s many offshoot peninsulas and winding reaches. The very borders of the country can be hard to define, for in the north the continent merges with the bitter Skathon ice, and to the south a hundred-thousand islands disperse across the Oceans of Tiham and mysterious Kaiwa.

Giant apes, ape-men, saurians, huge snakes, devil-crabs – these are just a small selection of the species that can be found throughout the many disparate climates of Siral’ik. Much like Etlen Rugna, Siral’ik is a jagged continent which contains within itself climates suitable to near any species that might be found upon the world. Travel within Siral’ik comprises an epic journey in and of itself, to say nothing of travel beyond its shores. Though most of the land is within the frozen north, its winding peninsulas and island-chains venture quite far south, meaning that the distinct appearance of Siralese folk can be found throughout a significant range.

Siralese tribals – sometimes referred to as Siral’iki – tend towards shorter statures, paler skin, dark hair, and almond eyes. Beards are less common than in lands like Batyr, though not rare, and within the south stretches or in the high tundra where the snow-glare is bright, dark skin is also quite normal. Though many of the Siralese peoples live simple lives as nomadic hunters or clan-based fishers and farmers, the adventurousness of the Siralese is well known. Not content with spreading out across the entire breadth of their own homeland, the Siralese are some of the best seafarers in the world, having mastered island-hopping to reach lands as far as Batyr and Himaleh Vistra. Though none ever returned, it was also the case that in the distant past Siralese seafarers managed to reach even Darkest Ar-Nung, as well as cross about the curve of the world upon the waves of the Kaiwa Ocean. While none of the numerous islanders who dwell within the mysterious reaches of Kaiwa would consider themselves “Siralese” – if they have even heard such a word – their appearance attests to a shared blood with both those intrepid tribes and their cousins all the way across Kaiwa in reaches like Dziil.

Leghen Alps

Surrounded by the Sea of Gami to its west and the seas of Xulub and Etlen Udra to the east, the Leghen Alps are an isolated land little-explored from the western reaches. Instead, the tribes of Leghen hold more in common with their neighbors in Dziil or even Guarana and Anpe. Defined by its prime mountain range, the Leghen Alps are great peaks which rise above vast forests, swamps, and other green reaches all along the eastern coast. Across their heights, brief prairies give way to the expanse of the Sea of Gami, whose treacherous waters are all that separate the nomadic Legheni peoples of that region from their counterparts in Dziil. Save for a few fearsome creatures like great bears or the rare ape-tribe, the Leghen Alps are noted as a peaceful place, assuming one does not allow themselves to get lost in the deepest of its forested clefts.

Saurians are quite rare in Leghen save for the southernmost swamps bordering Xulub, with most of the wildlife being composed of smaller mammalians, and the flora being quite typical and not often dangerous. Still, while there are many pleasant climes for settlement, the Legheni know not to dally too long when crossing the passes of the Alps. Strange creatures dwell in those shadowy clefts, and in the wrong season it can be the case that entire tribes would meet a terrible end trapped by vicious snows. Still, so long as one stays in the more explored forests, or along the coasts, there is much plenty. Even the dangerous oceans of Gami and Etlen Udra – prolific homes to some of the most horrifying sea-beasts – are not so treacherous so long as one sticks to the ancestral routes.

Legheni are quite similar in stature and appearance to their neighbors in Dziil, being strong of body and face, if not the tallest in all the lands, with sun-toned skin and dark hair, which they are fond of decorating. Form the forests to the prairies, Legheni tribes are quite adept at surviving the perils of their homeland and then some, having made trips to Dziil and Guarana Rugna in the past in the name of trade – something their neighbors would not otherwise be inclined to do. Hunting, fishing, farming, herding – all are known to the Legheni, and where lumber is good and the call of the open sky is not so pressing, they will even build quite impressive villages among the trees. Yet the Legheni are creatures of habit. They will not venture into waters they don’t know, and they will not tarry in the mountains. The ancestors of the Legheni are, after all, just those individuals who were not so foolish as to get lost in those horrible reaches.

Noba Rugna

Below Etlen Rugna, and forming a great chain between the rifts of the Etlen Udra and the Caraka Sea, Noba Rugna is the southernmost of those continents within the “Asra Bounds” – the area by which seafaring tribes from the various lands about the Blood Sea prefer to travel and trade. At its north, Noba Rugna is a hot but fertile land marked by its bountiful coasts, yet to the south it contains as many mysteries as distant countries like Ar-Nung. Across vast mountains, badlands, deserts, the arid reaches at last give way to jungles of primordial age and depth, at last culminating in the far south shores where sweeping grasslands roll out to the temperate Caraka Sea.

At its northernmost extent, Noba Rugna is not too dissimilar from nearby Sakha, being arid but not the most brutal of climes, with its rocky deserts crossed by numerous rivers about which humans and beasts alike are able to seek succor. Seacraft is common there, and the waters are not so treacherous as those to the south. Some saurians prowl the wastes, but for the most part the land is manageable to those acclimated to the heat. South of the very harshest stretches of the desert expanse, however, there can be found some of the deepest and most lush jungles in all the world – and certainly nearest to Asra. Creatures of every type may be found there, from the smallest pygmy ape-man to the largest and most terrifying saurian. South of those forests, temperate grasslands and savannah proceed out to the south ocean, home to most of the larger mammalian species upon Noba Rugna, as the lizards and great arthropods prefer the damp of the northern jungles.

Noba Rugna’s people are hearty and strong, suited to survival in heats even more unforgiving than summer in Sakha. Along the north shores, they tend to resemble the Sakhan folk a great deal, though perhaps with darker tones to their skin. Within the jungles and grasslands where few northerners have dared tread, the tribals can reach hues as black as night, with rough hair and many diverse features and body types adapted to different climes. Those within the jungles tend towards shorter, lither builds, while within the grasslands endurance and strength is favored for long hunting journeys. Though the northern Noba Rugnans sometimes think of their southern counterparts of primitive, any who have made it past the dangers of the southlands and laid eyes upon the great works and daring feats of those folk would know better.

Wide Lands of Dziil

Far, far to the west, past the reaches of the Leghen Alps, and the great Sea of Gami, there is a land of cruel extremes which extends from the furthest north to its southern twin of Anpe. This is Dziil, the highlands. A series of mountains which cleave their way out from between Gami and the great Ocean of Kaiwa, to the west those grand peaks descend into temperate rainforests up to the far ice, while to the east the foothills roll into broad badlands which meet their end in the waters of Gami. Wild and seldom visited by any save for intrepid seafarers from Leghen, there can nonetheless be found some appealing stretches within Dziil’s borders – though those that claim them as their home must be prepared to defend them from the various tribes of the outer wastes.

Dziil is a mountainous country whose namesake range split the length of the continent down the center. To the furthest north the peaks extend all the way into the great ice-sheets, while to the south they taper off into many of the volcanic islands which define the roiling Sea of Xulub. West of the Dziil range the climate is more temperate, so long as one remains in the middle regions, lush with warm tropics and cool rainforests. East of the peaks, things are not quite so lush, defined by broad prairies at best and searing flatland deserts at the worst, though these mercifully abate at the shores of the Sea of Gami, among the reedy wetlands where the fisher-tribes dwell. Ape-men and saurian are both in abundance out in the west, while enormous bison, aurochs, and other large mammals reserve the eastern plains to themselves, being hunted by the nomadic tribes there. Despite its relative shallow depth, the Sea of Gami is also full of life, including opportunistic super-predators who sailors must be wary of if they wish to journey across the full breadth of the ocean.

Tribal folk of Dziil tend towards dark or tanned skin, though with considerable variation, having strong and beautiful features much like their neighbors, though standing the tallest of all the folk in those lands surrounding the seas of Xulub and K’aino. They are survivalists and hunters, managing to stake out prominent territories throughout their rugged homeland, facing any foes with bravery in their hearts. Though fierce, they are not often ones to war with each other, though when they do it is most common among the eastern tribes. Out in the deserts and plains, many of the nomadic folk see an easy opportunity in raiding their neighbors rather than risking their own starvation. Those who have made it so far as Dziil from other lands – a feat in and of itself – have remarked upon the brutality with which the Dzillai greet intruders.

Seas:

Asra, the Great Blood Sea

One of the most important and well-traveled of the Seven Seas, and perhaps the most storied. It is Asra whose waters border the lands of Etlen Rugna, Fjallgarth, and the Ancient Lands of Sakha. These three lands conduct the most frequent wanderings over the Great Blood Sea, but the mingling waters of Asra also reach as far as the western shores of Batyr, and other lands besides. The Sakhan peoples named the great expanse “Asra” after the rich hue of the setting sun over its waves – it was only later that it became known for the numerous battles which took place across its waters. Though dotted with many islands and host to much travel between its three neighboring lands, the human tribes have also shed much blood upon the waves and lost even more to the jaws of hungering leviathans.

Caraka Sea

The Caraka is a jagged ocean which cuts the land of Noba Rugna from its northern sister of Etlen Rugna. Filtering into the southernmost waters of the Etlen Sea, as well as the western stretches of the Ocean of Tiham, it is a little-explored waterway save for a few of the daring coastal tribes of Noba Rugna. Its waters are warm, but its coasts are treacherous, and one may find themselves stranded on any number of islands if they cannot navigate the inlets of Noba Rugna, or worse – be swept out into the daunting expanse of Tiham.

Etlen Udra / Etlen Sea

To the west of Etlen Rugna lies is sister sea, Etlen Udra. Descending from the southern tip of Nunaat, across the fjords of Fjallgarth and down to the nameless ice at the bottom of the world, Etlen Udra is a stormy ocean of mystery and danger. Unknown to all but a few of the most legendary sailors to have ever journeyed out from the west, Etlen Udra is the path to the Leghen Alps, and even perhaps Dziil, Guarana Rugna, and Far Anpe besides. The Etlen Sea forms the great barrier between these lands and the continents about Asra. Yet within the very oldest stories of humankind does some inkling remain of this truth. Within Etlen Rugna, Guarana Rugna, and Noba Rugna are told stories of the Breaking, when once the fields and mountains stretched unbounded before the elder gods cleaved the Etlen Udra into the wilds, shattering the earth in twain. To the shaman-storytellers of Noba Rugna and Etlen Rugna, it is assumed the western lands sunk into the sea, while the peoples of Guarana Rugna likewise consider the east to be a distant myth.

Great Ocean of Kaiwa

The largest ocean in all the world, so massive that no human has ever comprehended its scale. None have ever crossed its breadth through sheer skill alone. The seafaring clans of the great ocean may journey about its many islands, but even they cannot say where all Kaiwa’s bounds lay. Likewise, unknown to even the wisest shamans, in elder times some hunter tribes of Siral’ik even managed to make the trek across the shattered ice to the north peaks of Dziil, but that way has long since been forgotten. Between Ar-Nung, Siral’ik, Dziil, and Anpe, and speckled with as many islands as there are stars in the sky, the mysteries of Kaiwa are as endless as its blue horizons and abyssal depths.

K’aino Udra / K’aino Sea

Descending down from the Sea of Xulub, the K’aino Udra separates Guarana Rugna from Anpe, and Anpe from Dziil. It is a warm ocean, though quite harsh, and brimming with dangerous creatures. Thick with life, it provides an endless bounty to those who fish along its shores, though crossing its expanse is no easy feat. Even if one avoids death by one of thousands of ravenous beasts large and small which prowl its waters, the many islands within the green waves are said to house hostile tribes of humans, lizardmen, and ape-men. Though all types of predators may be encountered amidst the waves of K’aino, the sea-serpents are the most renowned of all.

Ocean of Tiham

The largest of the eastern oceans, rolling over a great expanse between the south shores of Himaleh Vistra and Batyr, and the far and darkened beaches of Ar-Nung, as well as flanking the eastern edge of Noba Rugna. Tiham is host to many islands, most near to the coasts of its bordering continents. It is rather warm, though prone to storms, yet that has not stopped many seafaring tribes from taking advantage of its riches. Great leviathans may be found in its waters, as with many of the seas, though they are more prevalent about its interior where the abyss descends with sudden rapidity away from the shallow waters near to the broken, isle-flecked coasts. The very name of Tiham comes from the mythical ur-dragon said to dwell within its very deepest waters.

Sea of Gami

Splitting the great plains of western Leghen and eastern Dziil clean down the middle, there is the mighty interior seaway known as Gami, stretching from the ice-flats of the north down to drain at last into the Sea of Xulub. Shallow for the most part, it is not free of perils. Within its teeming waters are as many dangers as there are resources. Still, that has not stopped the native tribes upon both sides of the sea of making the most of it, and some peoples spend near their entire lives upon the waters. So long as one is well-versed in the craft of the waves and keeps a sharp eye out for anything bigger than a saltwater alligator or giant gar, it can be an outright pleasant life exploring Gami’s waters and all its tributaries.

Sea of Xulub / Devil Sea

One of the most terrifying yet enticing of all the world’s great waters, the Sea of Xulub, also known as the Devil Sea, lies where the Sea of Gami filters out between the Leghen Alps and Guarana Rugna, forming a hub between the waters of Gami, K’aino, and the Etlen Udra. It is a warm and tempestuous sea, with many reefs about its edges and many islands that dot its waves. Yet the center of Xulub is unfathomably deep, perhaps as deep as such abysses that can be found in Tiham and Kaiwa. Horrifying beasts lurk below the black waves, and none but the most skilled of seafaring tribes may brave its central waters. Still, the reefs and island chains which wreath the Devil Sea are among the most bountiful to be found, more colorful than Gami and fresher than K’aino, rich with valuable coral and mollusks and tropical fish. It is not uncommon for the tribesfolk of that region to make war over the valuable islands, and battles are far more frequent than among the other island-hopping tribes of reaches like Kaiwa.

Skathon Sea

The northern sea, the name given to all those waters beyond the reaches of Nunaat, Batyr, Siral’ik and the like where the great ice-flows crash together and icebergs roam like mammoth god-beasts. It is not the coldest ocean – the waters beneath Ar-Nung and off the southern tip of Anpe have that honor, but unlike those darkened waves, many people have actually explored the reaches of Skathon. Most of all the shipbuilders of Fjallgarth and Nunaat, who whale and raid among the icy flows just as much as traverse them on foot. Cold-blooded leviathans are predictably rare within Skathon, yet the whales and pinnipeds are more than titanic enough in size to still provide dangerous sport. Yet it is always the gnashing ice and frigid waters that make for the greatest danger of any who seek to traverse the Skathon reaches.

[dionysia-ta-astika]

Sing, O Muses, 

of the son of Zeus and Maia, 

Lord of Kyllene and Arkadia rich in flocks, 

The Luck-bringing Messenger of the Deathless Gods…

Sure-footed and swift, the son of Maia paused to survey the wide plains of Troy. All around him the sounds of battle rang out, mingled with cries both mortal and divine. Many long years of war had left scars upon the land and the Earth herself bore witness to the conflict that now engulfed gods and men. From the edge of the Dardanelles, across the wounded plains and farmlands, to the very walls of Troy, armies readied themselves or were engaged in battle.    

Rising behind the city far to the southeast, ancient Mount Ida loomed over the battlefield leaning towards Troy in anticipation. Though the topmost peak was obscured by clouds, Wily Hermes was not fooled. Zeus, King of the Gods, was surely keeping a close eye upon the progress of the war from atop the sacred mountain.       

A sigh escaped the Slayer of Argos. More often than not he was privy to his father’s mind - after all, being the Messenger of the Gods had its privileges - but Zeus’ deeper purpose for this war escaped him. Hermes’ queries had gone mostly ignored.      

“You will know your part when the time comes.” 

Zeus could be as cryptic as the Morai. 

“Not even the gods can escape their fate; we must show the way until the mortals are ready.”    

Very few of the gods remained outside the conflict. Hestia maintained the fires of Olympos while trying to keep one eye on Dionysos, but most of the other gods had been forced to take sides in the war. Hermes had lobbied to remain neutral, but Zeus and Hera were both adamant. Hermes was on the side of the Achaeans and that was that. War was always a hectic time, even for the god called ‘The Busy One,’ and he was needed. While the battle raged many prayers were said to Diaktoros, but Hermes had the most to do between battles. Conducting souls to the Underworld had kept him so occupied the last ten years he hardly had time for anything else. The fires of Olympos seemed far, far away.    

Hermes cast his gaze wide resuming his search for Eudoros. Being on the side of the Achaeans had given him the chance to check on his son now and then. The Luck Bringer had enjoyed spending time with Eudoros and watching him distinguish himself among the Achaean commanders. There were many mortals on the battlefields of Troy with divine protection, but few were as swift as Hermes’ son.

In the distance Keen-Sighted Hermes could see the river Skamandros rising up against its banks. Achilleus and the River God were dueling amidst a throng of Achaean and Trojan colors. Hermes could see his son not far from Achilleus, marshaling his command to reinforce the general. Even the Son of Thetis would not last long toe-to-toe against a god and all the Achaeans were in danger of being drowned by the wrath of Skamandros.    

“So, Achilleus has rejoined the battle.”    

The voice startled Hermes, few indeed could steal upon the God of Thieves unaware. Hermes turned, curious which god or goddess had gotten the better of him, to find a veiled figure looking toward the melee on the far river bank. Her veil, held in place by a small starry diadem, covered her entire upper body and fell well past her waist. The fabric was not opaque but seemed to shimmer as if it were a pool of water reflecting a dark starry sky before dawn. Her bearing was regal, assured, but without pretense.    

“Yes, Fair Leto, perhaps we are nearing the beginning of the end.”    

“Son of Maia, though we stand on opposing sides of this war, allow me to advise you. You must call your son away from the battle of Achilleus and Skamandros, or else he will meet an untimely end.”    

Hermes gauged Leto’s words. There was no untruth in them, but Hermes the Deceiver knew that truth told the best lies. It was not yet Eudoros’ time to die. Leto could be trying to trick him, to call Achilleus’ forces away, tipping the battle in favor of the Trojans. The ancient titaness often came across as aloof and formal, but she was never known to be insincere. Eudoros’ forces were gathering under his command, readying to bolster Achilleus’ flank. Whatever happened next would determine the course of the battle.    

Hermes made his decision in less time then it took to blink.    

Across the vast Ilion Plains, over the heads of Achaean and Trojan forces alike, past the raging Skamandros, the words of Hermes flew directly to the heart and mind of Eudoros.    

“Draw your forces back, my son. Beware the river.”    

Eudoros, startled for only a moment, quickly began to rouse his men to higher ground. Calling out, he led his company away from the flooding Skamandros. The banks of the river seethed and churned while the trees twisted in a rising gale. The sudden storm shook everything along the river with a dry, hot wind. What had been drenched and flooded just moments before became parched and desiccated.    

“Behold the wrath of Hera. She has loosed the forge of Hephaistos against the river god Skamandros.”    

Wind and fire rained down along the banks of the river consuming tree, flower, and bush. The water itself seemed to catch alight. Both Trojan and Achaean perished in flame and flood. The heat cracked and charred the riverbank forcing Skamandros to abandon Achilleus and recede.    

Hermes watched Eudoros gather his forces and follow Achilleus. The battle would continue, but everything had changed. The truce that had stayed the hands of the gods from engaging in direct conflict had been broken. From this point on the war could only become more brutal and more desperate.      

Leto’s gaze had not left the banks of the river. Hermes considered her history with the Mighty Hera. Officially, Leto lived on Olympos with Apollon and Artemis under the blessing and protection of Zeus himself. In reality, Hermes rarely saw her in public. She never drew attention to herself and her reputation for modesty was hard earned. Whether learned or instinctual, knowing the moods of Hera and predicting her movements must have served Leto well.    

“Thank-you.”   

Leto gave Hermes a silent, veiled nod. Her focus remained fixed on something happening far away. Hermes followed her gaze, though he could guess what held Leto’s attention. Near the banks of the now chastened river stood Apollon and Poseidon. The gods were locked in a heated argument, though neither made a move to attack the other. Further beyond, the outer walls of Troy rose up behind them. Poseidon gestured to Apollon and then towards Troy. Apollon shook his head in refusal, neither advancing nor retreating.    

“My brother will not be goaded into breaking our Father’s command. He will not attack first.”    

“Poseidon knows that if my son were to enter combat on behalf of the Trojans, Zeus himself would be forced to aid the Achaeans.”    

Leto spoke no idle boast. Of all the gods that sided with the Trojans, Apollon was by far the most formidable. Even while caught in a stalemate with Poseidon, Apollon’s influence spread far over the battlefield. His presence strengthened the Trojans, giving them courage to face the mighty Achaean forces. His priests tended to the wounded and even the most gravely injured Trojan warriors often made miraculous recoveries. Within the walls of their city the Trojan people called out to Paean and were comforted, while outside the Achaeans suffered plague and famine. 

“Still, he will not strike first.”    

Leto nodded silently and continued her vigil.    

Hermes cast his gaze further down the Ilion Plains. Battles raged, large and small, up and down the fields of Troy. A trail of wounded and dying followed Achilleus making him easy to spot. And near the Achaean champion two other Olympians circled intent upon testing each other.    

“Athene and Ares, however, already have weapons drawn. The gods of war will not let this chance to spar slip their grasp.”    

Leto did not turn or acknowledge Hermes’ words. Resigned, he turned his attention back to his siblings’ contest. The battle games of Ares and Athene were legendary, but Leto would not be distracted or take comfort while one of her children remained in peril. Hermes, however, was eager to see who would emerge victorious. He had wagered on Athene while Dionysos had placed his bet on Ares. Athene seemed like the safer of the two, especially if Nike was with her, but Hermes knew better than to discount his brother. Ares was far better at strategy than he was given credit for and Athene far stronger than she looked.     

For what seemed like hours, the siblings sparred neither giving ground. Though he was watching from a great distance, Hermes’ keen eye could see every spark that flew from sword or spear upon shield. Sweat poured off the bronzed brow of Ares as his sword pummeled again and again upon his sister’s aegis. The gray eyes of Athene narrowed searching for advantage which never seemed to come, despite her longer reach. Hermes pondered how evenly matched they were; their speed and ferocity reminded him of two great dragons locked in combat.      

“Like two dancing serpents…”    

Leto did not acknowledge his musings, but continued her veiled watch.    

The armies of both the Acheans and the Trojans had reformed around the gods of war, though Hermes knew the mortals could not see them, and reengaged their own conflicts. The gathered armies seemed to sway to the time of the siblings’ battle. Athene thrust her spear and the Acheans charged forward. Ares dodged while his sword landed a blow that shook Athene’s shield, the Trojans flanked the Achean’s charge and pressed them back. Hermes could hear cries of “Pallas!” and “Ænyalios!” rising up from the battlefield. Even though they could not see them, the mortals surely felt the presence of the warring Olympians.     

“And so the hearts of men are swayed.”    

Leto had not turned toward the battle but she could sense the divine influence upon the mortal armies just as keenly as Hermes could. Hermes wasn’t sure she could actually see anything through that veil, but he knew better than to bring it up. He was about to ask if she would be interested in placing a little wager on the outcome but he didn’t get the chance.    

“No.”    

Leto’s whisper pulled Hermes’ attention away from the battle. Poseidon and Apollon were still locked in a stalemate, neither making a direct move against the other, but something had changed. The air seemed heavy, as if a hot fog enveloped them. The two Olympians retreated from each other, making room for some unseen presence. And then, as if she had always been, Hera was there.    

“Potnia.”    

It occurred to Hermes that even after all Hera had done to impede the birth of Apollon and Artemis, Leto always showed Hera the utmost respect and honor. She was cautious, yes. Reserved, definitely, but she never gave even a veiled slight to the Queen of Olympos. Would all her care be undone in a moment, Hermes wondered. Unlike Leto, Hera’s mood seemed anything but restrained as she joined Poseidon in taunting Apollon. Leto’s normally regal bearing had become tense and stiff. Hermes was certain she was holding her breath.      

“Even the jibes of Queenly Hera will not find their mark upon my brother. Be at ease, Gracious Leto. Or if you will not, go to him and stand by his side.”      

Leto seemed torn, it was obvious that she wanted nothing more than to be with her children. But something kept her from joining them. Hermes turned his gaze back to Mount Ida, clouds still obscured the peak but now and then a flash of lightening broke through the darkness. The mountain seemed even closer than before, it loomed over the battlefields of Troy silent and unflinching. The Mighty Zeus was surely watching everything and Hermes wondered if he was pleased.    

“Father!”    

Hermes turned his gaze from Mount Ida to the source of the call. Eudoros, separated from his command, was swiftly approaching the hilltop where the two deities surveyed the battles of the plains below.     

“We are ever bound up in our children; are we not, Herald?”    

Hermes sighed. Eudoros’ presence could be problematic. It was easy enough for an Immortal to safeguard their children from most mundane dangers. Throw another Immortal into the equation and outcomes tended to become much less predictable and far messier. Hermes gauged his reply carefully.     

“Though my children may not shine as splendidly as yours, Honored Wife of Zeus, they are no less dear.”    

Hermes could hear the sound of air being sucked quickly across veiled teeth. While technically accurate, using that title could be misconstrued as a power play on Leto’s part. Hermes’ formal tone barely masked the threat.    

“Father, are you well? We could use your hel—“   

Eudoros stopped short as he came close. He had not seen Leto as he approached and her sudden ‘appearance’ had startled him.    

“Do you need my assistance, Lord Father? My sword is ready.”    

Eudoros’ hand moved to the hilt of his sword but Hermes’ gesture put him at ease.    

“No need for that, son. Little good it would do you anyway. You stand in the presence of a wife of Zeus: Leto the Mild, Mother of Phoebus and Phoebe.”    

“But Father?”    

“Yes, Eudoros?”     

“Isn’t she…”    

“A goddess? Yes.”    

“No. I mean, yes she is. A goddess. But isn’t she…”    

“Fair? Oh yes, one of the fairest on Olympus, my son.”    

“No! I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know. Oh…”    

Whether Eudoros’ blushing was from embarrassment or frustration, Hermes wasn’t certain. Either way, it was fun to watch.    

“Isn’t she on the side of Troy?”    

“Oh, that. Yes, yes she is. What of it?”    

“Father, the Trojans are our enemy.”    

“Hmmn? Well, yes, I suppose you are right. This ‘enemy,’ however, is partly responsible for you being here.”    

“What do you mean?” Eudoros’ narrowed his gaze. He could tell when his father was up to something, one didn’t survive as a son of Hermes without developing a sixth sense for trouble.    

“Gracious Leto warned me of Queen Hera’s attack. You and your men may have perished otherwise.”    

Eudoros paused to consider the implication of his father’s words, but only briefly. Hermes was pleased his son came to the only sensible conclusion.    

“Then I owe a debt to you, Blessed Leto. For my life and the lives of my men, many wives and children will make offerings to you.”    

“Children are my especial care, Son of Hermes. It pleases me to hear the prayers of your son and daughter.”    

Leto had not moved or turned to face Eudoros, her veiled gaze remained firmly fixed on her own son, but the kindness of her voice disarmed him. Leto’s beauty was not just in her appearance. Eudoros was so taken by the sound of her voice that it took him a moment to respond.    

“Daughter? But I have only a son.”    

“A daughter you also have. And she prays for your safe return every night, as does her brother. Barely nine years and yet she has never seen her father. So long, this war…“    

Before Eudoros could get a confirmation from his father, a great cry rose up from the Trojan forces and drew their attention back to the battlefield below. Ares had disarmed Athene and pressed her downriver. The Acheans were falling back to their camps by the sea as the Trojans began to close in. Spearless and using her shield as a bludgeon, Athene managed to catch Ares off balance. The Trojan forces were being led, without knowing it, exactly where the Acheans wanted them. Ares fell but leapt up again almost instantly, in a moment he would be upon her. Certain in victory, the Trojan army charged the Achean encampments. In one swift motion Athene threw a handful of ash and dirt in Ares’ eyes. The Achean archers shot flaming arrows igniting pits of tar and debris that smoked and blinded the Trojan advance. Laughing, Athene moved to disarm her brother before he could recover. The Achean army began to flank their pursuers, turning the hunter into the hunted.    

The laughter of the goddess was cut short by the blast of a salpinx echoing off the walls of Troy and down the Plains of Ilion. Hermes turned to see a great race of Trojan chariots riding quickly to cut off the Achean ambush. So swift was their approach that a cloud of dust obscured the city behind them. The lead chariot had outpaced the others and nearly reached Athene and Ares. Hermes could see two armored figures, both female, urging their team of horses forward.  

“No mortal chariot could ride so swiftly!”    

Eudoros’ tone of disbelief made Hermes smile. He could not know that a goddess drove the chariot, it was too far for mortal eyes to discern, but he could see the line it cut across the Plains of Ilion clearly enough.    

“The Daughters of Ares will not abandon their father upon the field of battle, though they must fight Pallas herself. And neither will his lover, for she has taken his name, Areia, and speeds to his side.”    

Hermes could see that Leto was right. Aphrodite and Penthesileia, armed and armored, were driving directly for Athene. The other chariots carrying the Amazonian reinforcements were heading for the Acheans. It seemed the day’s battles were not yet done.     

The speeding chariot forced Athene away from the recovering Ares and pulled around for another pass. Aphrodite’s intentions were clear, she meant to plow Athene into the dusty plains. But she was unaccustomed to driving the clumsy vehicle of war, each turn and charge of the chariot was more erratic than the last. Penthesileia could do little more than hold on for her life.    

Hermes could already see a strategy forming and he knew that Athene would not be disadvantaged for long. Athene’s moves were calculated and pragmatic, Aphrodite’s frantic and impulsive: one acting from the heart, the other from the head. Pallas had already maneuvered close to where her spear had fallen, one more pass from the chariot was all she needed. With one fluid motion she dodged, picked up the spear, turned, and threw. The speed and force of her throw took Hermes breath away. This spear would not be denied, it was seeking flesh and it was heading straight for the exposed back of Aphrodite.     

Penthesileia was prepared. Raising her shield, she covered the back of the unsuspecting Goddess of Love. It was a desperate move, no mortal shield could turn aside a divine weapon thrown by a goddess herself. Penthesileia knew this, but the daughter of Ares was a soldier. She was prepared to sacrifice her life without regret.    

But Penthesileia was not the only one to correctly read Athene’s strategy and she was not the only one prepared to sacrifice. Leaping in front of his lover and his daughter, the Mighty Ares caught the spear of Athene in both hands even as it dug into his abdomen. Bleeding, he collapsed onto the chariot.    

Quickly securing her father despite her surprise, Penthesileia adjured Aphrodite towards Troy. Ares would do no more fighting this day. Turning the chariot back the way they came, the Foam-borne Goddess lifted a large conch shell to her lips. Nearby Trojan and Amazonian forces lifted their own trumpets. The sound of horns echoed down the plains and what was left of the great Trojan army began to retreat.    

Hermes wondered if Dionysos would dispute Athene’s victory, when he noticed Leto was shaking. Knowing better than to ask, he turned his attention back up river toward Troy and the trio of gods gathered outside her walls.

Apollon was cornered. By their gestures and body language, Hermes could tell that Poseidon and Hera were jeering and taunting his brother. In any other situation Apollon could not have ignored such blatant attacks to his honor, but the Will of Zeus bound him and he refused to disobey. He endured the insults and without reply turned to leave. Hera seemed to take great offense at his retreat and moved to cut off his escape. With all the force of a hurricane the Mighty Hera slapped Phoebus in the face. The sound of her strike cracked the air twice as it echoed off the walls of Troy. Immortals and humans alike paused in their warring and looked for the source of the cloudless thunder. Hermes could not read Leto’s expression, but it seemed she stiffened in both anticipation and pride.    

Apollon had not flinched.    

Hera and Poseidon seemed taken aback. The full force of Hera’s strike had landed squarely on Apollon’s face, yet he did not yield or even recoil. Hermes stifled a laugh as he watched Hera nurse her hand. Poseidon suddenly seemed less eager to engage his nephew in direct combat. Apollon had not moved, and Hermes wondered if Hera’s blow had dazed him after all. Then the Far-Reaching Apollon turned to the southeast, his eyes resting on the sacred mountain.    

Following his brother’s gaze, Hermes looked for some clue hidden under the clouds that had gone dark and quiet at the mountain’s peak. No light escaped from the summit. There was no doubt that Zeus, King of the Gods, was there and intently watching the scene below. Even the average mortal could sense the unusual power emanating from the sacred mountain. But for what purpose that power moved, few could tell. Hermes could augur no answers and wondered if Apollon was having better luck divining the will of their father.    

“He goes.”    

The relief in Leto’s voice was like a single ray of sunlight breaking through a cloud of worry. Temporary, perhaps, but welcome all the same.    

Apollon had begun to move back towards Troy. His presence there would bolster the city and help reinvigorate the Trojan forces for the next battle. Hermes watched as Hera turned her back on the retreating son of Zeus. Her gaze spread far over the Plains of Ilion. Hermes was certain that, unlike her son Ares, the Queen of Olympos was not done with battle.    

A word from Hera snapped Poseidon to attention. Her right hand curled into a fist and she began barking orders. Poseidon lifted his trident and struck the ground. The earth rippled in a wave that spread out across the plains, down the river valley, and finally to the sea. The quake was not large, but every soldier, every phalanx, every retreating chariot, and every Immortal had stopped in their tracks. In the space a few seconds Hera had captured the attention of everyone from the walls of Troy to the Aegean Sea. The words she spoke filled every ear, Achaean and Trojan alike:    

“Crush them.”    

It was a command to the loyal and a promise to the defiant. Even Apollon had stopped in his tracks, hesitating to abandon the Trojans still on the plains. Hera had found a way to test his resolve, and it was no empty threat. The armies had begun to move again, and Hermes could see they had a renewed sense of urgency. The retreating Trojans had quickened their pace, desperate for the safety of the divinely built city walls. Behind them the Achaean forces had begun to stir from the safety of their encampments. The Amazonian chariots had won the Trojans a significant head start, but the Achaeans had received a direct order from Hera herself; none of them had any intention of disappointing the Queen of Olympos.      

“Kori, no…    

Leto’s voice trailed off, she had not moved but suddenly seemed small and frail. Hermes looked back toward Troy to see Artemis, Protectress of the Young, his sister, leaping from the walls of the city to the plains below. The Huntress had been charged with maintaining the city’s fortifications but the events unfolding outside were too dire for her to remain on the sidelines. Hermes suspected that Artemis would have preferred leading the charge of Amazons but Aphrodite had beaten her to it. Golden bow in hand and quiver at her side, the Huntress was closing in on Apollon’s position.    

Hermes did not hear the words that Artemis said, but he could see Apollon’s face redden.     

Striding past her brother Artemis placed an arrow to her bow, raised it high, and released it without pause. As if waiting for her cue a cloud of arrows rose from the walls of Troy. With uncanny accuracy the bolts of the Trojan archers speedily found their marks. The Achean pursuit of the retreating Trojans began to falter as soldier after soldier fell wounded, crippled, or dead. A second and a third cloud of arrows rained down from the walls of Troy. Artemis’ arrow, however, had arched high above the battlefield. Reaching its apex the arrow seemed to hang weightless above the Plains of Ilion. Then, as if guided by some unseen hand, the arrow turned downward and, like a falling star, began to plummet toward the battlefield below.    

Hermes scanned the plains looking for his sister’s intended target and nearly knocked Eudoros over when he found it.     

“Father!”   

“Whoops. But my, that’s bold, even for your aunt!”    

“What, Father?”    

Eudoros squinted, searching for what his father saw. Eudoros had better eyes than most humans, but his vision was not as keen as a god’s. Hermes passed his wand through Eudoros’ line of sight and pointed toward the retreating Trojan and Amazonian forces.    

“There! Can you see your cousin and uncle? Their chariot is being pursued, can you see?”    

“Yes! Mighty Pallas is gaining!”    

Eudoros’ voice was full of wonder for now he saw across vast distances; but more than that, he was also seeing the deities battling amongst the mortals. The gods and goddesses were both larger and grander than life itself, yet somehow removed and distant. The human armies flowing around them seemed like children’s toys in comparison. He could now clearly make out that Athene was not just in pursuit, she was nearly upon the trio - despite being on foot.     

“Father, we must warn her! The arrow will hit her!”    

Eudoros was right, the arrow of Artemis was plummeting to the exact spot where Athene would overtake the chariot. Hermes knew that Athene was so intent on her goal that nothing would deter her, save the command of Zeus himself. Direct intervention on his part wasn’t possible, but the Lord of Luck also knew that a serpent has many skins. Raising his wand again, Hermes began to mutter words under his breath that Eudoros could not understand. Then as quickly as he had begun the chanting stopped. Hermes smiled smugly.    

“Some of my best work, if I do say so.”    

“Father?”    

“Watch.”    

Eudoros turned back toward the scene below. Athene was now close enough to jump into the chariot. She crouched low, muscles tensing for the pounce. Just as she was about to close the distance, the serpents on Hermes’ caduceus hissed as if about to strike. The horses pulling the chariot suddenly lurched in a different direction, spooked by some unseen threat. Athene tried to pivot and adjust her jump, but the best she could manage was to desperately reach for her target while falling in the opposite direction. Athene began to rise only to immediately fall over again. Hermes stifled what sounded like a giggle. The heel of Athene’s sandal had been pierced and firmly pinned to the ground by Artemis’ arrow. It had missed the Goddess of War by a centimeter or less. Cursing, Pallas pulled the bolt out of her sandal and tossed it aside. Lifting herself up Athene resumed her pursuit, but the opportunity had passed. Ares, Aphrodite, and Pentheseleia would reach the safety of the city before Athene could overtake them again.    

“Ah, well, so it goes. It’s a thankless job.”    

Hermes seemed very satisfied.    

“Father! You helped them get away.”    

”Yes, well it was either that or let your aunt get skewered. Which would you have preferred?”    

“'Boldness is the beginning of action…’”    

Leto’s words cut off whatever Eudoros had been planning to say in retort. She hadn’t turned to watch the chase, but Hermes knew she kept at least one keen eye on her daughter’s arrow. He was learning that very little escaped the veiled gaze of Leto the Mild, and Hermes never had to learn a lesson twice.     

“'But Fortune determines the end.'”    

Hermes finished the proverb with a sly nod to the titaness. He would have to gauge his next few moves with great care.    

“Father, Lord Apollon is gone!”    

Hermes could see that Eudoros was correct. Apollon has slipped away while everyone was distracted by Artemis’ display. Hera, too, was realizing that Phoebus had escaped her grasp. Left unchecked Apollon’s influence alone could tip the tide of battle. Hera barked another set of orders to the Earth-shaker who turned and disappeared, presumably to search for his nephew.    

Leto’s silent tension was beginning to crescendo again, though she made no movement or sound. Hermes was getting better at reading her moods, and Leto’s worry could only mean one thing: Hera had set her sights on one of Leto’s children. Hermes watched as the Queen of Olympos turned to confront his sister with a frenzied madness in her eyes. Artemis was focused on inspecting her bow, trying to find an explanation as to why her shot had missed its mark. Hera’s assault took her completely by surprise.     

Grabbing the bow from Artemis, Olympia began to use it as a bludgeon. Artemis was knocked down, stunned at first, and then swiftly rolled away from her attacker. Hera pursued, waving the bow wildly.     

Hermes whistled low. Having been denied Apollon, Hera set all her rage on Artemis. It was not a pretty sight.    

“Our good Queen may have just lost it…”    

“Look, Father!”        

Eudoros pointed toward the top of the city walls. The Trojan archers had ceased their assault on the Acheans below. They were too busy fending off an unexpected attack themselves. Birds of every sort pecked, scratched, and clawed at the stunned archers. Hermes could even make out a few harpies in the frenzy. This was beginning to get out of hand.    

“Father?”    

All the color had drained from Eudoros’ face. His enhanced sight was taking a toll. There was too much to see, most of it gruesome. The din of battle was no stranger to him, but wherever he turned Eudoros saw every conflict, every exchange, every blow as if he was standing in the midst of it. The divine assaults overlaid upon the mortal conflicts were proving more taxing for his mind than was probably safe. Hermes blocked his son’s vision with his wand once again.     

“Father, is that what you see all the time? Is that how we look to you?”    

Hermes put a steadying arm around his son’s shoulder while helping him to sit.    

“Oh no, my son, we see so much more. We see you as you are, as you were, and as you will be.”    

“And as you could be.”    

Leto’s words were so soft Hermes doubted Eudoros heard them.    

“Rest for now, son.”    

“Yes, Father.”    

With Eudoros safely sidelined, Hermes rose and returned his full attention to the conflict on the fields below. Hera’s assault continued, but Artemis was no meek maiden. Her guard was up and she began to weave a dance around her attacker, dodging and blocking blows with a boxer’s weathered experience. She was bruised, but not beaten. Ducking a wild swing, Artemis used her shoulder to ram Hera and both went tumbling. As they rolled, the goddesses struggled for the bow, each trying to lever it against the other.    

The Trojan archers were beginning to regroup and train their arrows on their assailants. Wounded birds began to fall to the ground below. Those that survived the fall were greeted by roaming packs of wild animals. Feather and fur collided on the dusty Ilion Plains. Things were getting desperate, Nature was being pitted against Herself as the two goddesses struggled to gain advantage. Their battle devolved into a tug-of-war over the golden bow, each pulling or pushing, trying to wrench the weapon out of the other’s hands. Then one goddess pulled while the other twisted sending the bow flying from both their grasps. It arched high into the air, propelled by the might of two immortals. Both divinities watched for a brief moment before resuming their struggle. Their contest continued regardless of where the bow landed.    

But land it did, at the feet of Leto the Mild.    

“The time is come, Son of Maia.”    

With her back still to Hermes, Leto moved to pick up her daughter’s golden bow. As she straightened, she gathered her veil draping it back and to the side. She turned and for the first time faced her opponent squarely. Eudoros’ gasp revealed that he needed no divinely enhanced eyes to appreciate the majesty of the goddess before him.     

She had come dressed for battle. Her veil had completely concealed her armor; now exposed, it caught the light in a dazzling display of craftsmanship. Hermes recognized Hephaistos’ handiwork at its finest. The breast piece was decorated with a scene depicting Apollon and Artemis, bows in hand, surrounded by the bodies of seven men and seven women - arrows in their sides. At the shoulders wolves howled and a row of mongoose bordered the bottom edge of the plate. At the goddess’ hip hung a full quiver of arrows fletched with quail feathers. She met Hermes’ gaze without a hint of meekness or reservation. Her voice held only resolve.    

“You have delayed me here long enough, Lord of Thieves. Engage me in battle so that I may aid my daughter. The Will of Zeus compels you.”    

Eudoros was glad he was already sitting down. Leto’s starry diadem was glowing brighter and the sky behind it seemed to be slowly spinning.    

Hermes sighed.    

“Why should I stop you? I would rather you did help my sister.”    

“Do not toy with me. You well know I cannot. Only the winner between us may remain on the battle field.”    

Hermes had wondered why he and Leto had so many rules added to their duel. Zeus hadn’t been very forthcoming, but Hermes had guessed that Hera had something to do with it. It was just like the Queen of Olympos to arrange for Leto to watch helplessly from the sidelines as her children went into battle. Even now, as she and Artemis wrestled in the muck, Hera was probably gloating. Hermes could appreciate the planning and calculation that went into the scheme, if not the outcome.    

“Eudoros.”    

“Yes, Father?”    

“Lend me your sword, son.”    

Eudoros unsheathed his sword and handed it to his father. He looked as if he was going to say something further, but decided against it. Hermes looked at the simple but well-made weapon. Taking the corner of his chlamys, Hermes used his cloak to polish the blade. Eudoros gasped as Hermes lifted the sword up to inspect it; instead of a battle-weathered weapon of bronze and iron, a golden blade shone with a piercing, divine light. An uneasy feeling swept over Eudoros as his gaze moved down the length of the sword. Embedded into the hilt sat a single, golden eye.     

“Panoptes!“    

Hermes winked at his son.    

“Don’t stare, Eudoros. It’s rude.”    

Hermes gave the weapon a single slash through the air, testing its balance. Eudoros wasn’t able to keep his eyes on the sword, it moved so fast in his father’s hands.     

“Hypnos, Thanatos: bring my armor.”    

The serpents on Hermes’ staff unwound themselves and slithered to the ground. Eudoros blinked and instead of serpents two winged youths - one light, the other dark - stood in front of his father holding a set of armor. Without a word, they began to dress the god for battle. Thorax secured, one youth reattached Hermes’ chlamys while the other knelt to fasten the god’s winged greaves. Eudoros could make out a crouching, muscular figure on his father’s cuirass which dominated the breast plate. The figure held a sphere of seven stars on his shoulders that adorned the nape of the armor, while one foot rested on the back of a tortoise. Eudoros thought he could make out several small, dancing figures around the giant’s foot; maybe a satyr with a syrinx, but he wasn’t sure.    

Their task complete, the two winged youths stepped backwards and were gone. The wand in Hermes’ left hand was once again serpent-twined. Turning to face his opponent, the Son of Maia pulled his petasos down over his brow and disappeared. Only the golden sword and its unblinking eye were still visible as it moved towards the waiting Leto, arrow docked and bow drawn.    

“Now you will learn, Atlantiadon, from she who taught the Archer and the Huntress their skills!”    

Leto trained her arrow on the spot where Hermes had disappeared and released. The golden sword bobbed playfully in the air while Leto’s arrow sailed off into the distance.     

“I am a quick study, Koiogeneia.”    

The god’s voice seemed to have no origin, giving Eudoros no clue as to his father’s location. But Leto did not hesitate. A second arrow ready, she aimed at another spot and fired again. Hermes’ laughter burst from all directions. The golden sword began to swing wider and faster and then disappeared altogether. Leto grimaced as she loosed another arrow, and then another. Her eyes darted frantically searching for her invisible opponent.    

The golden sword reappeared behind the goddess, an invisible hand raising it to strike.    

“Father! No!”    

Eudoros’ cry took both deities by surprise. Rising to his feet, Eudoros steadied himself as he called out again.    

“Father!”    

Hermes reappeared beside his son.     

“Eudoros, best not to interfere in the affairs of the gods. You’re not thinking clearly right now.”    

Hermes’ tone was stern but still warm. Concern showed on the god’s face. Eudoros might be more disoriented than he realized.    

“No, you’re right, Father. I shouldn’t get involved…”    

A familiar twinkle danced across Eudoros’ eyes. Hermes wondered where he had seen that look before.    

“…that’s why you can’t use my sword.”    

“What do you mean, I can’t?”    

“If my sword harms the Fair Leto, I am partly to blame..”    

“I suppo…”    

Eudoros didn’t let his father finish the thought.    

“So then won’t Lord Apollon have to avenge his mother? And since you are using my sword, he’d most certainly have to punish me. Like you said, Father, better to not get involved in the affairs of the gods.”    

Hermes couldn’t help smiling at being quoted back his own words.    

“And don’t forget that I am indebted to Blessed Leto, Father. You told me she helped save my life. What honor would there be in me letting you use my sword against her?”    

Hermes put one hand on his son’s shoulder.    

“Are you sure about this, Eudoros? It means a victory for the Trojans, she’s the ‘enemy,’ remember?”    

Eudoros shook his head as his gaze passed over the plains below. His vision had returned to normal but the memory of the day’s battles - both mortal and divine - still haunted him.     

“Very well.”    

Hermes turned toward the goddess and laid his son’s sword at her feet.    

“I concede victory to you, Leto the Fair.”    

Thunder pealed across the sky followed by a single word:    

“ENOUGH.”    

Eudoros was sure that he woke up several hours later. The sun had fallen low in the sky and night was near. Fires were beginning to dot the plains and he could tell that the fighting had ceased for now. The grim job of collecting the dead and wounded had begun.     

“You should rejoin your men, son. It should be safe enough.”    

Eudoros turned to see his father sitting beside him. There was no sign of Leto or any other Immortal, though Eudoros knew he couldn’t trust his own eyes on that account.    

“Was that?”    

“Yes. It was him. All Immortals called back to Mount Ida. Well, all but me, obviously. 'No more interfering with the affairs of mortals,’ or something to that effect. ‘Let things play out as the Fates decree.’ Probably for the best, things were getting out of hand.”    

Eudoros found that he could stand without feeling nauseated. He felt completely normal, in fact.    

“General Achilleus will be wondering where you are, as will the men under your command.”    

Eudoros nodded, but didn’t make any move to depart.    

“Come, I’ll walk with you a ways.”    

Father and son moved down the hillside in the direction of the Achean encampments.     

“Father?”    

“Yes, son?”    

“When the gods go to war, do they ever get tired of fighting?”    

“Yes, we do, Eudoros.”    

“What do you do?”    

“We try to find another way.”    

Eudoros walked in silence, thinking on his father’s words. Reaching the bottom of the hill, they paused.    

“I’ve been thinking a lot about home lately and it makes me…”    

Hermes waited as his son found the words.    

“It makes me want to find another way.”    

“I think you will, Eudoros.”    

Lost in thought, Eudoros resumed his walk without realizing his father had stayed behind. The mortal’s day was coming to an end, but for Hermes a long night lay ahead.    

Hermes watched his son moving across the wounded fields of Troy before turning briefly toward Mount Ida. Ambrosia was being administered to the wounded Ares while Athene debated battle tactics with him. Leto had dressed her daughter’s wounds and offered to do the same for Hera. The Queen of the Gods had surprised everyone and accepted Leto’s offer. Hermes sighed again and turned back to the waiting dead.    

“Was it enough, Father?”    

In the distance a crash of thunder answered him.     

Satisfied, Hermes - the Guide of Souls - resumed his work.

“Against Leto, Hermes stood, grave guard, in peace and war, of human beings…” -The Iliad, Book XX

“Meanwhile the Guide, Hermes, addressed Leto, ‘Leto, I will not fight with you; since it is a hard thing to come to blows with the brides of Zeus who gathers the clouds. No sooner you may freely speak among the immortal gods, and claim that you were stronger than I, and beat me.’” -The Iliad Book XXI

[unlockthelore]

Lullaby

Rin knew how to ensure Sesshomaru's comfort but she was learning new things all the time, including sweet ways to lull her husband to sleep. From the series Affections Touching Across Time on AO3. For more updates, follow the affections touching across time tag on this blog.

Inspired by @screamibgdodo.

On the occasion where duty separated them, Rin was always present upon Sesshomaru’s return from battle. While he was revered for his efficiency and technique, Sesshomaru lacked capability in ordering those under his command. Exhausting himself physically was nigh impossible, but the stress of having others at his heels and an enemy within his reach taxed the mind. Rin felt pity for her husband when he came marching through the palace’s corridors, a host of generals and dignitaries trailing after him.

Dignified in composure with his head held high and airs of indifference at the bickering of those around him, Sesshomaru remained untouchable in body. Yet, from her view tucked away in the rafters, Rin could see where he frayed: the faintest twitching of his brows at a noble’s offhand comment, arguments reaching a fever pitch leading to the subtle clenching of his jaw, the marks beneath his eyes elongating for a split second before returning to normal.

He was tired of the company he kept, and she couldn’t blame him.

 Always making sure to position herself within his sight but outside of their view, Rin offered a gentle smile when his gaze flicked up to her as he passed. Tension eased as Sesshomaru’s expression thawed and, for the briefest moment, it allowed for her to see her husband’s needs before he disappeared into the meeting room.

It would be a while yet before he emerged, which gave her ample time to prepare and to dismiss the attendants nearest to their quarters for the day. Few argued with her on where their duties lied. Older generations that’d been tending to the palace and those within its halls insisted they stay. Though upon hearing of their lord’s return, they too heeded their lady’s request, albeit with some reluctance. Had she been a prideful woman, she would have felt irritated that they had dismissed her out of hand initially. However, Rin was aware that some of the yōkai within the palace held misgivings towards humans.

After all, it had been a human who caused the late Inu no Taishō to fall — or so the rumors said.

Rin sighed. Worn wooden beads, smoothed from constant rubbing between thumb and forefinger, sat in the palm of her hand. Their faces carved with symbols etched deep within the grain and traced idly with her thumb nail. Tucked beneath the celestial-patterned comforter and gazing out the window at the glittering night sky, she tried to keep herself from sighing. It would have done no good to dwell and with her husband’s keen hearing — he’d surely sense her discontent and come running.

Let him take his time, she thought, reclining against their mountain of pillows with the intent of closing her eyes for a quiet prayer. The third and fourth bead barely made a soft skrrch when the door opened. Rin glanced up, a smile curving her lips as Sesshomaru stepped through. The cloud-like fur bundled on his shoulder quivered, and the door snapped shut behind him. With a light tug of the comforter to her ankles and her beads looped in a bracelet around her wrist, Rin rose from their bed to greet Sesshomaru halfway.

The window was closed seconds before his arms found purchase around her waist to pull her into his embrace. Her head pillowed against the nicked and dented metal of his breastplate . Spikes expertly avoided, Rin couldn’t help but smile as Sesshomaru crowded her to his chest. His deep, even breaths interrupted by slow inhales, nose buried against the top of her head.

It was sweet. How he tried to reacquaint himself with her scent and hold her close all at once; he was affectionate in the barest sense of the word. With her eyes barely open, Rin watched as the metal of his armor began to mend itself. Scrapes and scratches began to fill out with a shimmering reddish hue enveloping them. Almost as if a tiny candle had been lit beneath the outer shell and was seeking to close the gaps.

She swept her hands along his back and sides, wanting to feel the familiar silk of his furisode and check for wounds beneath the surface. Never would he admit to being injured, and while she knew his body would heal, that mattered little in comparison to seeing him in pain. Thankfully, he granted her search, and once she was satisfied, she tipped her head up to allow his lips to brush against her forehead.

“You should have been present,” Sesshomaru murmured against her skin. The words, while not wholly accusatory or reprimanding, were spoken with a strain of hurt that made Rin’s brows furrow.

She tipped her head up further, Sesshomaru’s lips tracing the bridge of her nose tenderly, warm breath ghosting across her skin, eliciting shivers down her spine. “Unless I wade through blood, they care not to hear my opinion...” Rin whispered with a disdainful huff. An answering rumbling in his chest spurred her to remind in addendum. “We both know that.”

Duty had driven them to separate battlefields: Sesshomaru’s with fang and blade while Rin’s with words and intent. As much as she loved her husband, diplomacy and its games weren’t his arena of choice, especially in the realm of humans. Carefully, Rin pushed away from his chest, immediately missing the warmth radiating from his armor.

“Alas , I had my own responsibilities ,” she said, brushing aside his fur to find the reddened ties of his cuirass. “The council of headmen in the midlands are considering negotiations with Norimasa. Apparently, having a human working in tandem with a yōkai eases their minds to a degree. Talks of clearing roads for merchants, delegation of resources, exorcisms… it’ll be some time before a conclusion is reached, but it is something.”

While Rin recapitulated , Sesshomaru’s arms never left her. His golden eyes sharpened with intent as he watched her undo the knots and ties of his armor. It was only after Rin moved to help him pull it over his head that she noticed he hadn’t budged. Their eyes met, Sesshomaru’s half-lidded and riddled with conflict as he leant his forehead against her own.

Her hands that had been cupped at the ties were gathered in one of his own and set over his heart. With his chest plate hanging awkwardly, Rin could feel past the metal and clutched the soft, silky furisode. Beneath it, dwelling deep within his chest, was his heart’s thunderous beating.

Rin unfurled her fingers from their half-closed fist and pressed them to his chest. It was as if his heart was vying to leap from his rib cage and into her waiting palms. The hand lying over her own squeezed affectionately, and Rin lifted her gaze to greet his.

“I would have preferred you be present,” he said, voice tender and thoughtful.

For a horribly long moment, Rin felt terrible for brushing aside his concern. In the dim lighting provided by moonlight streaming through the window’s wooden slats, magenta markings darkened as golden eyes bore into her own imploringly. With a heady sigh, Rin drew her hands from Sesshomaru’s chest and held his jaw between her palms.

“Next time,” she promised in a breathy whisper. His exhaustion must have gotten the best of him, she realized, when he nodded and tipped his chin forward. Their lips met in a chaste kiss. Barely more than a touch of the lips, for its purpose wasn’t meant to pleasure but to assuage and confirm.

A promise sealed with a kiss.

Rin couldn’t help but smile as the old adage came to mind. Giggles spilling forth from her lips caught on his own, and she could feel him smile against her. Rocking back on the balls of her feet , Rin’s hand smoothed down Sesshomaru’s chest to rest upon the hanging chest plate narrowly skimming her with its spikes.

“As much as I love hugging you, your armor does make it a little uncomfortable.”

Sesshomaru’s answering grunt drew another laugh from Rin.

“Here,” she said, brushing off the hand hovering at her hip as well as the other holding her own.

A luminous glow surrounded them as she helped him disrobe. Armor that she slipped over his head and from his limbs were set upon their appropriate stands. His arms found their way around her while her back was turned, chin nestling against her shoulder.

“Your swords,” Rin reminded him when he’d gotten comfortable, so much so that he was heavily leaning on her. She snorted amusedly at his withering sigh.

Withdrawn so far into his mind that he wouldn’t even use words.

Deciding not to tease him too much, she nudged his stomach with her elbow to put distance between them. Enough for her to spin around and face him, fingers resting on the pommel of Tenseiga while her pinky grazed the ridges of Bakusaiga. His gaze fell to them then flicked up to her.

“May I?”

Half-lidded suns regarded her, then closed with a curt nod, barely the faintest twitch of the head. Rin gently brushed her lips against his jaw, then drew Tenseiga from his belt, turning back to the cabinet to set it near his armor. The blade’s sheath pulsed in her hands and hummed once it was set down delicately. Bakusaiga was quieter in its approval, but its hilt was warm in her palm. Wisps of pale green curled around her fingers as she pulled away and turned into the waiting arms of her husband. Sesshomaru tired of lingering and lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?” She laughed, throwing her head back when he buried his face against her breast . Silvery-white hair tangled in her fingers as he carried her to their bed and laid her down in a giggling mess. Their comforter bloomed around her, and Rin squirmed as she sank into it. Clouds rolled across the sky and left them in darkness. Two bright gold eyes glowed in the dimness , watching her intently from just beyond the edge of their bed.

Somewhat hastily , Rin shuffled to their pillows and sat up, opening her arms just as moonlight began to trickle in. Sesshomaru was silent in his approach and even quieter in his settling at her side, eventually curling up around her with his hand flattened to her back. Barely a breath between them as they laid together, his chin tipped downward and eyes heavy-lidded while she stared up at him.

He was mesmerizing. Beautiful simply didn’t do him justice. Beneath the moonlight in his eyelashes, his hair seemed to glow an ethereal white, and the paleness of his skin took on an almost death-like pallor. His fur rippled as it detached from his body and laid at his back, curled neatly around his waist. Rin sighed. She had half a mind to tell him to disrobe completely, but it would have gone unheard at this point. With the hold he had on her, she could tell he didn’t intend to let her go anytime soon.

“You won’t speak…?” Sesshomaru asked after a while, the deep baritone muddled and vaguely longing.

Rin chuckled softly. “Would you prefer if I did?”

He nodded slowly, opening his eyes into slits. “Tell me.”

“… Tell you what?”

“Everything,” he sighed.

And so she did. In truth, Rin had a host of things to tell him, but she saw little reason to do so when he was this tired. Lying with him was just as pleasant as talking to him, and as his breathing evened out, the tireless flow of idle questions and hums dried up, indicating that he was asleep. Or at least as close to sleeping as he could be. A soft sigh parted from her lips as she reached up to touch his cheek, tracing the marks beneath his eyes, her nails brushing lightly against his skin. Trailing up from his the swell of his cheekbones to the shell of his ears, catching on locks of hair drawn behind his ear.

Her fingers nestled in his hair, and just as she began to comb through then pull them away, a deep rumbling filled the silence like a distant roar of thunder. Rin blinked slowly and held in a squeak as Sesshomaru’s grip on her tightened. His body pressed closer to hers, nearly blocking her view of his face.

What was that?

Her hand carefully fell to rest at his shoulders as she replayed the sound in her mind. A rumbling. She’d felt it before, but this one was different. Curiosity striking, she bit her lower lip and glanced up at his sleeping face. It weighed heavily on her mind to do this while he was dozing and clearly unable to fully restrain himself, but she hardly needed him to behave around her. Gently, Rin reached out to stroke along his pelt, and the deep rumbling sounded the longer her fingers dwelled. Alternating between his pelt and his hair, paying special attention to a spot behind his ear that nearly had him crushing her to his chest in a hug.

In the briefest of seconds that she could see his face, he seemed to be in bliss. His ears twitched beneath her fingertips, and there was a small smile ghosting his lips. Oh, this wasn’t good. Her eyes widened, and she could imagine what expression she was making, tucking her cheek against his heart as she chuckled.

“… Mm.”

Rin’s eyes shot open and carefully, very carefully, she lifted her head and found him looking down at her. His eyes narrowed, and she couldn’t help but flash her best smile. It was rude of her to do this to him when he was half-asleep, but how was she to know that he would purr of all things. His hold on her eased, and an apology caught in a sharp inhale as his tongue flicked across the tip of her nose. It was quick, and if not for the slight wetness, she wouldn’t have believed it even happened.

Gobsmacked and confused, Rin squeaked when he drew her into another hug, this time caressing his lips against her cheek with another throaty rumble. Shock froze her in place until she felt him nudge against the underside of her chin.

“… Again?” She asked, and the answering growl left her relieved and amused.

Well, at least she knew another way to spoil her husband when he returned home.

[agape-philo-sophia]

➝ We're in this Spiritual Warfare Together — Standing and Uniting in Truth in Our CommUNITY.

As many of us are well aware, the past weeks have been mounting with interdimensional spiritual warfare which also translates on the surface as covert military operations that are engaged in the end game battle against the globalist Controllers or Luciferian bloodline families, which is going to the next stage very quickly to reveal the beginning of the disclosure timeline. Things will likely escalate into reports of news with assorted global conflicts that will sound extremely scary, as in reports of preludes to global warfare and nuclear weapon warring. When things are appearing to be really dire on the external, please remember that things are not at all what they seem to be. Right now, we are in the height of false flags, agent provocateur, controlled opposition, blatant lies and falsity, deep fake videos and every propaganda tool they can come up with to keep the public confused and terrorized. This is a momentous time for human liberation, but we will need to become more discerning, and be aware that the propaganda is military grade warfare used to target us with demoralizing fears. Do not succumb, work your tools, pray and meditate, this is time for radical self-care and knowing your limits and inner child issues. Propaganda is used for the purpose of Psychological Manipulation, to generate mental fabrications and emotional reactions, that are intended for seizing control, power, benefits and advantages at the victim’s expense. The mainstream media is Propaganda, and it is not accurate. This is more aggressive than ever; the American public is being targeted with complex military grade psychological warfare and propaganda. If you find yourself being triggered, it may be best to retire from any mainstream outlet, as they are all owned and controlled by the satanic council members. The outer reality of the mainstream controlled narrative is now crumbling and in a free fall. It does appear that the freefall towards exposing truth towards global disclosure has an epicenter which is within the United States, and to which the web of the transnational criminal syndicates is being exposed through several foreign countries that have major tentacles operating in the corporatocracy that control the United States through the shadow government. The next stage will likely be finding alternative news channels, newly built social media platforms and online sites that transmit more accurate news to the masses of the current events transpiring. This requires the main six propaganda media corporations and their outlets be taken down systematically, while communication back channels and emergency broadcast systems are ready to go as the main news sources reporting to the awakening public. The only way accurate news can be given outside of CIA mockingbird intelligence mind control programming is to circumvent the controlled mainstream media sites, and this is now the phase where this behemoth can be toppled over successfully. In this phase the darkness that resides in the minds and hearts of those corrupted by power, wealth and depravity is being revealed to the masses. This will send a ripple of shock and fear through those that are unprepared or have been asleep to these hidden events, when they are awakened to see the reality of Power Elite pedovores and criminal psychopaths that have been acting above the law and controlling the mainstream narrative of global society. The lightning strike of shocking changes is upon us as the global dark night of the soul, in which the lies, delusions and falsity of the controlled mainstream narrative that gave us a false sense of security will crumble away. This phase of spiritual growth can bring shocking inner and outer change and greater self-realization, it is a time of great personal turmoil when we go through the process of seeing blind spots and deceptions in many situations. When we see these lies and our blind spots, the places we were naïve or just plain wrong, now, what will you do with this new knowledge and how will you manage the changes happening around us while facing the shocking truth? What is currently happening is a major lifestyle and cultural upheaval, life as we have known it in the past is ending. For many this is a major existential and spiritual crisis, bringing on normal reactions of grief, anger, sadness, confusion, sleepless nights and even facing confrontations with others that have been less than truthful. We are going to have an awful lot of very angry people when they find out how much they have been lied to and betrayed by those public figures they trusted. When we are undergoing a change in the foundation of our sense of security and identity, it penetrates to the deepest core of our being, reverberating shock waves that force us to get out of personal comfort zones and to emotionally and spiritually grow beyond the current level. Remember that the artificial façades, self-delusions and barriers are going to fall, whether you like it or not, because we have reached a collective limit in this area, and we can no longer live with it. Crimes against humanity must be accounted for and in order for humanity to heal, we must live to see true justice, in our society and at a cosmic level. Although this phase of spiritual growth is very hard, we all have to undergo this process of discerning and seeing the truth, no one gets away from this critical piece of spiritual ascension. The mountain of ego, pain body, deceptions, facades, illusions, manipulations and emotional bait hooks must be destroyed so that you are free to face truth and gain an accurate sense of reality without false attachments. There are some of us on the spiritual path that are holding space for others, loved ones around us that will be undergoing this intense process of lighting strike and shocking changes. Our loved ones, friends and acquaintances may be bewildered and confused about what is occurring. They may begin to show signs of trauma, projecting assorted images, they may have faulty memory, they may be acting out past life archetypes, they may feel threatened and terrorized with survival fears in the future. They are unable to deeply understand all that is happening because they are utterly overwhelmed with the intense energies forcing consciousness transformation, which surface deep emotional pain and grief. To hold a clear and unconditionally loving space for such intense forms of spiritual alchemy, it is important to hold complete observer towards the process, even when it can be painful to watch people we care about endure such intense pain, confusion and grief. In spiritual community, this is a call for self-mastery in compassionate witnessing, and never, ever taking on another person’s emotional process or disjointed perceptions when they are in the deep and heated battle of the inner Armageddon, while the ego construct is flailing about in its death throes. The most important relationships we have is with our higher power, God, and the inner relationship we have with ourselves. We go within to find that all we will ever need is existing inside of us for the purpose of building an impenetrable connection in your direct relationship with God - by focusing on the highest service to God that you can be in this moment. In that, it is all that matters, this is a virtue building exercise that will build incredible spiritual power. This is that moment. We must go within and rely on the inner feeling inside our heart, the truth as we know it right now, focusing on the inner connection and being aligned to one's personal values, praying and meditating to strengthen our direct communication with God and our inner spirit, in all ways that we can. Stay awake as we traverse the valley of the shadow and death, on the other side of destruction is creation, which awaits the deeper illumination of higher consciousness that we lightworkers and Starseeds have worked so hard to achieve. Be confident in your inner knowing that this is the event that we came to participate and witness on the earth, the massive transformation of global awakening, disclosure events and the process of catalyzing spiritual ascension of human beings on planet earth. Know in your heart that this is as it needs to be, and it is time now. Do not be scared, we are all in this together! https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1196865980862234624 ?referrer=MindCom

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (23 of 40?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE!!!!!******

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

DID YOU SEE THE ART FROM YESTERDAY?????????!!!!!!!!!!!! (HINT HINT It is the PERFECT visual for this chapter!!!!!!!) COCOHOOK38 IS THE BEST!!!!!!!

Present (Friday, continued)…

“Bloody hell.”

Fidgeting with the stack of useless scouting photos on the dining room table, Detective Jones did not seem inclined to elaborate, so Emma could only sigh in agreement.

“Yeah.”

A moment later, Jones added,

“Stark raving mad, the both of you.”

“So do you understand a little better now? We had a chance, and had to take it.”

“Because the two of you are thought to be immune.”

“Or at least better protected.”

“And he couldn’t just kill the bastard on the first day because of a lack of weapons.”

“That, and Rumplestiltskin thought that, at close range, the monster might still be able to sense murderous intent even with our immunity.”

Jones remained silent for a long time, studying Emma’s face, though he seemed very far away. Feeling the need to justify their deception, Emma said,

“Do you see, now, why it had to be a secret? We weren’t sure how far the Vocivore’s emotion-sensing abilities extended, and now that we know for sure he’s watching on the security cameras, it’s even more important that people believe Killian is firmly under his control.”

“Hold on, back up a tick; what was that about security cameras?”

Emma grimaced. “Apparently, the Vocivore is watching us through security cameras; possibly even hacking into webcams. Oh, and his slaves’ collars have one as well. That’s why Killian had to… you know…”

She waved vaguely toward his chest. He raised an eyebrow and she made a face.

“He feels really bad about that. So do I.”

“Then you did speak with him? The other day, at the hospital?”

Emma squirmed in her seat, nodding. “Sorry.”

Jones sighed in resignation. “I suppose it’s safe to assume he had help in his escape?”

“Guilty. Don’t look at me like that. We have a plan that we think will work. I wouldn’t have let him go otherwise.”

“Care to fill me in on the details? And what makes you feel as if he’s not planning to come back?”

At her hesitation, he leaned forward and placed both hands on the table. “I’m a part of this now, Emma. Your ally. Maybe I can help. But you’ve got to tell me all of it.”

The relief of finally having a confidant, coupled with all of the exact expressions and mannerisms of her endangered husband, caused tears to leak from her eyes. She wiped them viciously away.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She sniffed. “Sorry. It’s just been hard, facing all this alone. And I’ve gotten used to the hiding. But if we had to trust someone with it, I’m glad it’s going to be you.”

Jones responded with a sad smile. She drew a huge breath.

“So. The rest of the story… and the plan.”

5 weeks ago, continued...

The blasted portal spat Killian out, not in the alleyway closest the sheriff station, as intended, but several blocks beyond that. He cursed quietly and staggered to his feet, hand pressed tightly to the wound in his side. Damn that Crocodile; Killian couldn’t imagine what he’d have to gain by sabotaging the portal, but he wouldn’t put it past him anyway.

The trek to the sheriff station was grueling, made twice as long by the fact that he was trying to avoid being seen. To hell with Rumplestiltskin’s plan; Killian wanted Emma’s healing before they reported the kidnapping.

In the middle of the day, however, that proved to be a major challenge. By the time he’d rounded the corner that would take him to the station’s door, his shirt was soaked with blood, front and back. He could even smell it, sickeningly evocative. But the scent was not the main contributor to the wild spinning of his head as he lurched along the sidewalk, now in plain view, using his hooked arm to steady himself against the outer wall of the building. There were exclamations from blurred faces, some garbled words that could only be offers of help. Killian continued forward with a dazed sort of determination. Emma. He had to reach Emma. She would heal him, and then it wouldn’t matter that he had forgotten what had happened or what he needed to tell her…

His shoulder crashing into the door kept him upright long enough to fumble the knob open with fingers dyed crimson. Some onlookers had their phones to their ears, pointlessly tying up emergency lines: he’d be healed in just a few more seconds. Killian followed the swing of the door inside with just as much of a parabola to his path; his hook, wrapped around the handle, supported most of his weight.

Emma waited just inside. She had David with her. Bloody hell; that wasn’t good.

“Swan,” Killian croaked. His voice sounded strange in his own ears. Emma clawed at his hand, trying to see…

The sudden, white-hot bolt through his side somehow brought the plot back with surprising clarity. And the lump in his throat was not fully attributable to pain as he blurted the horrific lie to his father-in-law. His best friend.

“They’ve taken her,” he gritted out. The corners of the room were growing dark, as if the boiling clouds of a Dark Curse were rising from the four walls. “I’m so sorry. They’ve taken Hope.”

Perhaps it was a mercy that the ashes consumed him then, sparing him the sight of David’s very real reaction.

*****

Floor.

Pain.

David.

A kidnapping?

“Lie back, Killian; you’re hurt.”

Swan?

“...she can’t heal you…”

Shit.

Medics.

Lies.

Were they lies?

Reassurances. A promise. So much guilt.

Ambulance.

Hospital.

Bloody hell.

*****

Killian had been feigning sleep for the past half-hour. Emma was there, sounding dazed as she interacted on his behalf with various visitors and medical staff. In between the phone calls, of course. Guilt gnawed at him for leaving her to deal with the chaos alone, but he feared the blasted drugs coursing through his veins would cause him to say something that would give the game away. Although, if he was lucid enough for that to be a concern, perhaps he could trust himself not to say something he would regret.

He had been mostly awake for Dr. Whale’s report to Emma: the physician had sounded confident that Killian would make a full recovery, as long as he could avoid infection. Apparently, the Crocodile’s blade had done no damage to any vital organs. Not that Killian would ever thank him for his precision.

Since then, Emma had been dealing with concerned friends anxious to begin the hunt for the allegedly kidnapped Hope. Impressive, how she handled it all. It sounded as if she had sent people to their house to search, not yet having heard the agreed-upon story that Killian would tell. Those eager volunteers would find no clues there, but it would keep them occupied and seem plausible enough of an effort that, in a real scenario, Emma could feel justified in keeping Killian company until he “woke up.” So much deception already, and it was only fated to get worse.

Finally, enough of a period of silence convinced Killian that he and Emma were alone. He shifted carefully under the covers and peeled his eyes open. Emma got to her feet, wearing a relieved yet concerned expression. After confirming that they were truly unsupervised, Killian indulged in a weary sigh, winced, and smiled sheepishly at his wife.

“What the hell?” she hissed.

Killian scowled and was immediately reminded of the cuts and bruises decorating his face. “The bloody Dark One took it upon himself to provide you with a genuine shock. Believe me, being gutted was not part of the plan.”

Now at his side, Emma brushed some hair from his forehead. “Thought he was trying to change.”

“Apparently, justifying stabbing an old enemy as ‘for his own good’ is exempt from Dark One Rehabilitation.”

He stretched, grimaced, then asked,

“What the bloody hell is going on with your magic? Did I not hallucinate the part where David told me you've lost your healing abilities?”

Emma made a face. “Nope, not a dream. Sorry.”

“Bloody awful timing,” growled Killian. “The Vocivore, do you think?”

“I can't think of any other reason. Regina, too,” she added to forestall his possible next question. She continued to stroke his hair. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to hear the majority of Whale's self-important speech."

"So you know he wants you to at least stay overnight."

"Aye," he sighed. "Sorry, love; I didn't intend for you to have to handle the tumult on your own."

She shrugged. "It may be better this way. Less chance for either of us to give something away. Speaking of which... it might be time to start spreading the story." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Assuming we're still going through with this..."

"No question." Somehow, he managed to sound more determined than he felt. "After all, we can't allow the Crocodile to stab me for naught. It may simply take a bit longer before I’m capable of…” Killian swallowed and forced himself to finish the thought. “...Facing the monster’s attentions."

A skeptical Emma gave him a once-over, taking in the gruesome state of his face as well as the thick bandage on his side that was apparent even under the blanket. "Maybe we can work something out with Rumplestiltskin; send you back through and make him heal you."

Killian nodded sullenly. "It would be the least of what he owes me. Though we then run the risk of exposing our plot to everyone. Monster included."

"Hmm. We'll have to think about that one." She leaned down and placed a gentle, careful kiss on his forehead. "Need anything?"

"No thank you, love. I'll likely just sleep."

She nodded. "That would be good. I'll tell people it's the drugs."

Emma made sure his call button was within reach, gave him one more tender caress, and headed for the door.

"Good luck," called Killian after her.

Time for more lies.

[reylogeek79]

The Ghost (continued)

Sometimes his fellow students let him join in with their childish games. Other times they had mocked him and called him ‘Prince Ben’ which he hated. He hadn’t wanted any of this and felt more different and isolated than ever. The tall man, now confirmed as Snoke, no longer came to visit him at the Training Temple. If he hadn’t already felt the gnaw of darkness eating away at him, the training had amplified it.

He hadn’t wanted to train in the first place. He didn’t want to be royalty or a politician or a Jedi. He just wanted to be a pilot. And he didn’t want to be alone. Apparently that was too much to ask.

Then his own family had betrayed him. He had been told by his fellow students that his mother had confirmed in the Senate that her parents, Ben’s grandparents, were not Queen Breha and Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. Ben was the grandson of Padme Amidala, Queen and Senator, and of legendary Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker, who had torn down the Jedi Order with Emperor Palpatine and had become fearsome and awesome Darth Vader.

That he was the grandson of Darth Vader and Queen Amidala seemed to answer a lot of Ben’s questions about himself. He had not understood why his parents and Uncle had lied to him and everyone for so long, at least not until his peers had started to suggest that he should be utterly ashamed of his lineage.

Ben felt totally lost at sea within his emotions. Confusion, anger, suffering. And as always, aching loneliness. But from this Ben had started to draw strength. This was his legacy, the dark side.

His Uncle Luke had felt the power within Ben, had feared it, and had tried to murder Ben in his sleep. Ben had pulled the hut down on them both, burned down the training temple and fled with those of his fellow Padawans who had chosen to live. Those who did not want to leave, Ben had shown them the power of the dark side.

They went to the only consistent person in Ben’s life, Snoke.

Snoke had continued their training, had made Ben Master of the dark Knights of Ren, and each had chosen their own name. They were free to be themselves and do as they wished. Ben had chosen for himself the name of Kylo, and had left poor lonely homesick Ben in his past with his uncaring family. Ben was weak—Kylo was strong.

As a reward for choosing the right path, Snoke had given him a gift. The charred and deformed mask of his grandfather, still humming with the energy of the dark side. Kylo Ren revered the relic he had been given, a link to the grandfather he had been denied, and a family member who would never disappoint him.

In return, he pledged Snoke his lifelong service and became his apprentice. Soon after Snoke became Supreme Leader and his first act had been to lead a mission on a remote moon in the Outer Rim, and on this mission he was to eliminate one of his knights whose progress was poor at best.

Kylo had had his reservations, had promised to train the knight harder, but Snoke had lectured on the weakness of sentimentality, and had told Kylo that one thing that the Sith had gotten right was that the weak must be eliminated to truly be strong. Only then could Kylo became the Vader to his Emperor.

But they would not repeat the shortsighted mistakes of the Empire. The First Order would surpass and be stronger than that which had come before, not bound to the ancient Sith religion but taking its strengths and building upon them.

The light, Snoke had mused, it was the core of light amongst the gathering dark within Kylo that he felt would help him bring the galaxy under the control of the First Order. They would have ultimate power. He would emulate the great acts of Anakin and Vader combined, fuelled by the continual conflict within his own soul.

Snoke had warned him of the cost of betrayal too, not that there was any thought of the same running through Kylo’s mind. They were not Sith and there was no antiquated rule of two. Besides, Snoke knew him too well, knew what he thinking as it went through his mind. The Supreme Leader’s power was absolute—no one could challenge him.

Kylo wished to learn all that he could from his Master. The tall man, Snoke, the Supreme Leader, had always been there for him. If Kylo had not fallen under his protection as a child he would still be weak, lost, clinging to his mother’s skirts and trying to fulfil the expectations placed upon him as the son of a princess and the nephew of Luke Skywalker. Snoke deserved absolute loyalty, had earned it.

The Knights of Ren took the moon from the resisting miners and as the offending knight was silencing the whimpers of the almost dead, Kylo closed in behind him and plunged his lightsaber through the knight’s chest as directed.

It was only then that the supposed corpse got to her feet. For a few seconds Kylo paused, the familiarity of her appearance striking a chord in him as he struggled to remember how he may know this girl.

She began to back away, fear in her eyes, as the rain drenched her hair and her light tunic. He noted that she was dressed inappropriately for such a wet and barren place, more for heat and sand...

A long buried ghost came barrelling to the forefront of his mind.

This was not Shmi Skywalker. He had seen holos of his great grandmother and this was not her. Bastila? Bastila Shan, maybe? Kylo wished that the rain and dark would cease so he could see clearly through his visor.

He took a three steps forward and the ghost girl was gone, he was alone with his knights who had not shared the vision.

———

Circling around Jakku, Kylo berated himself on his missed opportunity to prevent the Resistance Pilot’s escape. He had felt the conflict in FN-2187 on Jakku. Had sympathised, and in doing so had let the traitor live and breathe in their midst.

Kylo could not help but feel something significant was stirring, something had awoken and was concealed to him just beyond the horizon. And whatever it was would have far reaching consequences. That it involved the map to Luke Skywalker shook Kylo to the core.

He wanted that map. Wanted to confront his treacherous Uncle on his own terms. But now the map was in a droid in the hands of a traitor.

The Supreme Leader would not be pleased. Kylo knew he would have to make it up to him, felt apprehension as to what would be expected.

Then Lieutenant Mitaka had interrupted his mental self-flagellation. Had told him FN-2187 had assisted the droid in boarding a Correllian YT model freighter.

Kylo had lashed out in frustration at the console before him.

“The Falcon,” his mind had screamed, but his childhood plaything had long since been lost. It was probably scrap by now. Certainly it was no longer in the possession of his father, he had heard. Jakku WAS a desert junkyard, however...

Just a coincidence, he told himself. Besides the Falcon was no longer the mascot of the Rebellion or the Resistance. Some small time smuggler was probably using it to transport ill gotten gains, if they hadn’t already been blown out of the sky.

His strikes ceased, and he ventured one further question through gritted teeth. “Anything else?”

The young Lieutenant paused, and Kylo felt the Force surge. This was significant, the news Mitaka was about to impart.

“The two were accompanied by a girl.”

The map to Luke Skywalker was in the same make of ship that was synonymous with Ben Solo’s childhood, with a traitor Kylo had spared and a girl from a desert junkyard. The Force screamed at him.

This is big. Snoke will feel this too.

Kylo Force pulled the nervous officer to him by the throat. “What girl?”

[nrsranger]

3.3

The Outer Rim

Arbiflux

Tarn’s Family farm

1000 hrs

Coming into land on Arbiflux Tarn had two options, one to land at the sector space port, but it was nothing more than a concrete slab sitting in the middle of a grass field, no tower, no controller and 50 kilometers from his family farm. For that reason Dorman choose to land on his family’s property. His family owned about 130 square kilometers of farmland, a small estate consisting of the Farm house, a bunkhouse, a garage and several storage sheds all arranged in a loose rectangle. Dorman landed his X-wing where his right S-foil was three meters from the outer edge of this rectangle. As he climbed out his Ma and Da were standing just beyond the gate that separated the farmland from the estate. Climbing down from his X-Wing Yarn’s little black book weighed him down like a tombstone stuffed in his pocket. Reaching the ground, his Ma and Pa opened the gate and hugged him.

“We heard about the Hosian system and we feared the worst, are you ok?” His Ma asked

“Yeah, I’m alright I’m alive” Dorman said reassuring himself.

“And how’s Yarn Ma Tarn said

“Uh Ma um that’s why I’m here..” Dorman said, his voice trailing off.

“Please don’t say……” Pa Tarn said

Dorman didn't say a word, he just shook his head and cried.

“Come in son, your brothers and sister should be coming back any time now, then we will head over to the Belmic’s” Pa Tarn said, putting his arm around his son and escorting him inside the home. As they entered Dorman controlled his tears and sat at the kitchen counter. When his Ma filled a cup and placed it in front of it, he took it and took a long drink.

“Jawa Juice, just the way you like it” His Ma said

“Ah Thanks Ma” He said finally composing himself

“I bet the Military life doesn't make a cup of Jawa Juice as good as your mother’s” Pa said

“No, no they don’t” Dorman said.

Just then, the front door slid open and Dorman's younger sister Court walked in.

“Hey! I saw the X-Wing out front is Tarn home?” Court said as she walked through the house to the kitchen placing the keys to the family’s speeder in a drawer. “Oh it's just you Dorman, what’s up”

Dorman stood up and went in for a hug “Nice to see you to sis”

Returning the hug, she asked “Where's my boyfriend?”

Dorman said nothing, just hugged her tighter.

“Dorman, where is he?.... is he ok,..... is he alright? Just tell me he’s safe” Court sobbed, shooting off one question after another in response to Dormans continued silence.

“Court, take a seat, I’ll pour you a cup of Jawa Juice” Ma said

Unaided Court took the seat next to Dormans and drank from her cup. A few moments passed in silence as each member of the family sipped the drinks processing their grief. The sound of a speeder’s repulsar hummed in the distance steadily growing louder.

“That must be your brother’s” Ma said

“Did they tell you that they have farms and families of their own now? Mel married the Oldest Kalven girl and has about 30 acres. Delvin has two kids and 40 acres and Robert just finished his apprenticeship with Doc Teyrmin and now has his own office and who is he Courting?” Pa asked

“The, ummm Adams Girl, the third one I think?” Ma said

Just then the Door Opened and the three brother walked in and seeing the sad faces and half empty jug of Jawa Juice

Mel said jokingly “Who died?”

It took Pa moment to huddle up his three clueless sons and in a hushed tone explain to them the situation. Mel apologise, and each brother took their turn hugging Court and Dorman.

“We're going to head to the Belmic’s to break the news, do you guys want to come with?” Pa said. Mel, Delvin and Robert glanced down then Delvin said trying to cheer up the mournful faces.

“We’ll wait here and prepare a lunch on top of the hill, we can celebrate his life the way he would want us to, we’ll bring our families and have a good ole time”

“Let me grab a shower and get out of this stinky flight suit,” Dorman said.

“Yeah sure I’ll warm up the speeder” Pa said.

Dorman blankly gazed off in the horizon zipping past grain fields until they arrived at the Belmic Family Farm. He rubbed the cloth on the chair in front of him desperately trying to dry his palms. As the speeder winded down Court, Ma and Pa all climbed out and approached the front door in his sharp dress uniform and that little black book in his right hand.

“Hey Traya,” Mrs. Belmic said, opening the door, then she noticed Dorman’s dress uniform and she said “Dorman! It's so nice to you again, How’s my son?”

Dorman cleared his throat, “Mrs. Belmic, that is why we are here, can we come inside.”

“Of Course, Is Yarn ok?” Mrs. Belmic said suspiciously opening the door for all the Tarns. “Kits in the kitchen, making some lunch”

“Can we speak to your entire family?” Dorman said

“Yeah sure thing! Kit! Call the kids!” Mrs. Belmic said

“Ok?” Kit Belmic said drying his hands and grabbing his comm link.

A few moments later Mr and Mrs Belmic were sitting in the living room surrounded by four kids aging from 8 to 17. Clearing his throat Dorman stood up reading the concern on the faces of every person in the room.

“On behalf of the New Republic, I extend my apologies for the loss of your son, he died in the line of duty, protecting the people and interests of the New Republic he died on ------ of the ------ ABY at approximately 0740 hours. He fell in the remains of the Hosnian System, protecting Raysho Station.” Dorman recitied. To occupy the time in hyperspace he read and reread Yarn’s little blackbook and on the front cover sat the official New Republic condolence letter.

“Were, were you with him when he---” Mrs Belmic said wiping tears from her eyes and clutching Mr. Belmic

Dorman’s crestfallen face fell even more. “yes, yes, I was”

“Did you hear his last words, What were they” Mrs. Blemic asked

Replaying the moment in his head, the TIE Fighters Opening fire Yarn screaming his name as his X-Wing burst into a short lived fireball disintegrating his body

“Yes….he said, tell my family not to be sad, for I die for a worthy cause” Dorman lied.

“Thank you, Dorman” Mrs. Belmic said grabbing Dormans hand and squeezed it.

“I know you need time to process this so let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” Ma Tarn asked

“Ummm thank you Traya, I will” Mrs Belmic said blankly nestling up against her husband “we knew the risks Kit we knew the risks but we let him go anyway, why did we let him go!?”

“Because, he made his own decision and he knew that he might have to lay down his life to protect the Republic.”

“I don’t know what it feels like to lose a son and I don’t want to try, but we are organizing a little get together, just your family and ours, around noon, and let us honor Yarn’s last request, it's what he would want” Mrs. Tarn said timidly

“Thank you, Traya, we will be there, we might be late, but we will be there,” Mr. Belmic said, gathering his children around his feet and his wife in his arms.

“Every Service man carries a little black book with them, this contains their last Will and Testament, I wanted you all here because every one he made an entry for is in this room.” Dorman said, handing over Yarn’s little black book.

“Thank you Dorman,” Mr. Belmic said standing up and accepting the book “now if you excuse us, we have prepare for your get together.”

“We understand Kit” Mr. Tarn said standing up marking the end of conversation, hugs and condolences were traded Mrs. Tarn was the last one out the door giving Mrs. Belmic one final hug.

When Court, Ma, Pa and Dorman returned back to the family farm, the house was bustling more than usual, with two kids running around and playing around Dorman’s X-Wing. As the speeder came to a halt kids disengaged themselves from their game of Rebels and Imperials and ran over shouting

“Uncle Pilot! Uncle Pilot!”

Lifting the black feeling his heart held, the children lighten his mood as he swooped down and lifted the oldest child up!

“Hey!!, I forgot your name,” Dorman said, setting him down in line, “lets see, your Ich” he joked pointing at the oldest kid aged about eight.

“No!” he said in a way only a kid can say “I’m Kip, that's Ich” he said pointing out the youngest kid around four.

“Wow! Are you sure? Because last time I saw Kip, I could do this!” Dorman said, tickling Kip to the point where the eight year old almost wetted his pants.

“Ok, Ok Gr ma walking through watch out” Dorman’s Ma said sliding through the tickle torture. Just then Delvin’s wife Trina walked out and said to the kids

“Alright kids, let's get ready to go to the hill!, Doorman! Are you hurting my child” She accused playfully

“No more than he deserves Trina!” Dorman said matching his tone to hers, this time not faking any tone but dread. “Where’s Mel and Cali?”

“There already up at the hill setting things up” Trina replied sleeping Ich’s arm through his jacket sleeve and buttoning it up.

“What can we do to help Trina” Ma asked

“Well Mel and Delvin forgot to bring up the desert and the roast Iggunt” Trina said multitasking as she put on shoes and tied knots.

“Yeah, Pa can grab that, Court can you help your Dad?” Ma said, walking over to Trina and helped her with getting the kids ready.

The Hill was like the name implied a hill sitting out of the Tarn’s homestead rising a solid 20 meters from the surrounding land, it offers the best view of the mountains on one side and the small city of Maldoca where the family did most of their business. On the crest of the hill sat a large picnic table built by the Tarn and Belmic families as they sat on that hill for many hours when Dorman and Yarn were little kids. Sitting around the table was the little Tarn clan, Ma was moving around the table filling every slightly empty cup full of her sector wide famous Jawa Juice, Pa, Mel, Delvin and Dorman were sitting on one side catching up, On the other side, Cali (Mel’s wife) and Trina (Delvin’s wife) were talking with Court about whatever inlaw’s talk about during family gatherings. Kip and Ich ran around the table sometimes eating and sometime chasing each other around. Robert and his Girlfriend Amildal Adams were laying on the slope talking cute Kip ran up to within earshot of them, made a face and ran back to his uncle “pilot” saying

“Uncle Pilot, Uncle Pilot, why don’t you talk like uncle Robert?”

“Well I just haven’t found someone special like your uncle Rober has” Dorman said

“Well they're talking about gross stuff, is that what you talk to your crush about?” Kip said

Dorman looked up to his 2nd oldest brother who made a face communicating his reluctance to answer that question, “Umm go ask your Mother about that” Dorman said before he refocused on the conversation that centered around the attack on the Hosnian System and the surrounding rumors.

“I heard the New Republic has fallen and is no more” Mel the oldest brother said

Pa uncharacteristically broke his silence and said “Rip from the city, we sell about 30 kilos of grain to him yearly said that the New Republic is a lost cause, as there is going to be some new Galactic Alliance to address the First Order Threat.”

“Pa, I find that hard to believe because who would dare oppose the First Order with the power they have” Mel said gently

“I have three Star Cruisers and a shipyard of people who do” Dorman said

“Well, yeah but like on a planetary level, I heard on the holonet the Coursant, Naboo, Ord Mantell, Corellia and Ringo Vinda have already joined the First Order.” Mel said

“You can’t trust everything you hear on the holo news” Delvin said scoffing “I think only half of those systems have even made a decision, but maybe we might put some of these rumors to rest, Dorman, what do you know?”

“Well I’m not privy to the senior staff meetings but this is what I know. The entire Hosnian System, has been destroyed, and if anyone believes that New Republics is defeated, well lets just say that I’m pretty sure that Admiral Thadmin has a few surprises up his sleeve.”

“Ah the New Republic is lost, with our Capital destroyed, what can they do?” Mel said. By this time Robert and Amildal walked over hand in hand and joined their conversation.

“What are we talking about” Robert asked

“The New Republic and First Order” Delvin answers

“Oooooo, I heard that within the first twenty four hours of the Hosnian System attack if not all but most of the Planets have withdrawn their allegiance.” Robert said

“I only have one question, will there be a war?” Pa asked

“No!” Mel said

“Maybe” Delvin said “It depends if other Star Systems can rally and provide a sufficient counterattack”

“Jyn Erso once said during the First Death Star Crisis, it’s not about what chance we have, but what choice we have,” Amildal

“Well said,” Robert said with a wink.

“Yes!, there will be a War, scratch that, WE. ARE. AT. WAR. ” Dorman said “and I will be on the front line” he continued feeling a bit heated “they just murdered my best friend, when he did not even pose a threat, and someones got to stop them.” as he finished all the family sitting at the table stared at him in awe of his resolve, the silence hung like a curtain until his Ma walked over to him and gave him a well needed hug but then the conversation turned to interior politics and what the planetary governor will do Dorman lost interest at this point, and focused more on the melon type fruit on his plate, but his concentration was interrupted as his comm link beeped. He looked down and picked it up, as he looked up every adult stared at him knowing that this was a professional call.

“Ensing Tarn?, This is Sub Lieutenant Harlow of the Ranger” The female voice said

“Yes Sub Lieutenant, this is Ensign Tarn” Dorman said

“Commander Mauz regrets cutting you leave short but you are needed back at Raysho station ASAP” L.t Harlow said

“Understood, L.t, I will leave within the hour, and will be arriving, tomorrow at 1400 hours” Dorman said checking his wrist crono

“The sooner the better Ensign” L.T Harlow said

“Yes Ma’am, and if you can pass on the message to the CAG that he was right.” Dorman said

“I will Ensign,” Lt. Harlow said.

Dorman looked up and all eyes were on him.

The silence was broken when Mel said

“Ok, I’m just saying what we were all thinking; she sounded hot”, that earned him a punch in the shoulder by his wife.

“Well, you're not wrong Mel, but she married, so that's a no go.” Dorman said but then his voice darken as he said “I wish I could stay but I have to go,”

“I know son, but I..I...I don’t, I don’t want this to be the last time I see-” Ma stutterd

“Don’t worry Ma, I will return home even if I have to win the war single handedly, I will return home” Dorman said

“You do that” Ma said, wiping tears from her eyes. Then came the time everyone dreaded; the Goodbye hugs. Dorman stood up with everyone else and he first hugged Mel, and Delvin, he then turned around and hugged Cali Trina. Next Dorman stooped down and caught his nephews and they ran and gave him a kiddy hug. He then stood up at turned to Robert who said

“Woah, Woah, Woah, calm down there Mr, huggy Amildal and I will drive you to your X-Wing. Dorman smiled and withdrew his hands and went up to his Pa, and threw his arms around him and hugged him tight, just as Dorman thought his day would never let go, his grip slackened. He then looked toward his younger sister and gave her a side hug and nested his head against hers. Then came the moment he dreaded, he look at his Ma and immediately the tears started streaming, but he walked up anyway and wrapped his arms around her and rocked back and forth,

“I will come back Ma, I promise” he whisper resting his head on his Ma’s shoulder. They held each other for a few more moments then they release and Dorman in his crisp formal uniform turned about faced and march down to where Roberts speeder waited. Robert, Amildal and Dorman climbed in and zoomed off. As they hit cruiser speed, Robert turned toward Dorman,

“I’m joining” he said

“What!?” Dorman said

“The New Republic Navy, I’m joining as a medic” Robert clarified

“what , what, what about Amildal?” He stammered

“He already talked it over with me, I’m joining to, as a medic as well we know the risk, but people need help, and your brother and I have been trained as doctors, we have taken an oath to help those who need help, and we will help those who will fight oppression now matter the cost” Amildal said

“O.k have you?” Dorman said before being cut off

“Finished the paper work? Yep our shuttle is arriving at 1800 hours the day after tomorrow. I have now told Me yet but I will eventually”

“Well the New Republic could use you, we are going to need medics and pilots alike” Dorman said ominously

“Well here you are” Dorman said pulling up to Dorman’s X-Wing

“Yeah, let me go inside, grab my stuff and change into my flight suit.” Dorman said

“Sure thing brother we’ll wait here and see you off.”

A Few moments later Dorman stepped out of the main house in his orange flight suit and he stored his bag in the nose storage compartment. Then he face his brother, “You know you have always been my favorite.”

“I know,” Robert said confidently “before you go let's take a holophoto.

“Oh come on, I need to go!” Dorman said rushed

“I know, I know but it will only take a moment” Robert said pulling out his holo cam recorder and setting it the the proper mode and setting it to the approtate height. He then pulled his arm around his brother and the other around Amildal. Dorman let a genuine smile across his face, with his X-wing standing behind him, his brother next to him, and his brother's girlfriend who was always looking out for him and his family.

“I’ll send it to you, now get going” Robert said

Dorman climbed in his X-wing and completed his preflight check started up his repulsor engines until he was a few meter off the ground then he gently applied power his sublight engines and took off, before he left the atmosphere, his data pad buzzed and he pulled it out, it was the holo photo his brother took. With the picture still on it, he placed his datapad in the right corner of his cockpit, he glanced at it then layed in a course to the Raysho station and engaged his hyper drive.

[enterinit]

New Xbox One Games for March 24 to 27

New Xbox One Games for March 24 to 27.

Freedom Finger (March 24)

A music driven, side-scrolling shooter that sends you blasting across 40 levels of crazy cartoon action. Starring Nolan North, John DiMaggio, and Sam Riegel with music from Aesop Rock, Red Fang, Metz, Power Trip, Com Truise, and many more!

Moons of Madness (March 24)

A mysterious signal has been recorded coming from the red planet. The message confounded Orochi scientists. Their analysts broke it down and determined it was of intelligent origin. Orochi management immediately concluded that the discovery was too sensitive for public knowledge and moved to keep it hidden. In secret, the corporation began construction of Trailblazer Alpha, a state-of-the-art Mars research outpost designed to identify the true nature of the message. You are Shane Newehart, an engineer stationed at Trailblazer Alpha and your security clearance means you are completely unaware of the existence of the mysterious signal. Your job is simply to keep the lights on until the transport ship Cyrano arrives bringing with it a new team to take over your duties. Soon you discover strange and unusual setbacks. Crucial systems are malfunctioning, the greenhouse is filled with a strange mist and the rest of your team has yet to return from their EVA mission. Things are starting to fall apart. You begin seeing and hearing things that aren’t there. Visions, hallucinations – or is that even what it is? Is this real… or are you slowly descending into madness? Experience true cosmic horror With your only hope of rescue hundreds of thousands of miles away, you will be forced to explore the real-world fears of isolation and paranoia, enhanced with supernatural elements and cosmic horror. Terrifying visions and monstrous apparitions will make you question what is real and what is not as the very fabric of reality threatens to tear at the seams. Explore the darker side of Mars Navigate a functioning Mars base in a game that uses non-fiction elements to immerse players in a believable setting. Overcome obstacles using computers, electrical systems, rovers, solar panels and more, then go beyond the outpost and explore the darker side of Mars. Moons of Madness draws upon the rich lore and mythology of Funcom’s Secret World Legends. Both games exist in the same thematic universe, but playing one is not a prerequisite to enjoy the other. https://youtu.be/8RPGUHMrjE0

Bleeding Edge (March 24)

Team Up. Cause Chaos. Grab your team and tear it up in Bleeding Edge, an electrifying online brawler where every fighter comes mechanically enhanced for mayhem! Choose your fighter from a diverse cast of colourful characters from the edges of society: burn rubber as bold and beautiful Buttercup with her detachable saw blade arms, wreak havoc as Black-Metal rocker Niđhöggr with his electrifying guitar solos or slash up the streets as Daemon, New York’s most wanted assassin. Come. Join us. The cybernetic clash of the century is about to begin! NO STOPPING US Synergise with your teammates to become an unstoppable force in the face of your enemies – freeze foes in time, control minds, ride missiles and unleash electrifying guitar solos in exhilarating action combat that rewards technique, timing and teamwork. TREACHEROUS TERRAIN Use your environment to your advantage with deadly arena hazards and gain the upper hand in moments of chaos. Yank opponents into a high voltage electric fence with Buttercup’s saw blade. Charge enemy aggressors into the path of an oncoming train with Makutu’s shoulder barge. Trap careless enemies within Maeve’s magical cage and light a raging fire beneath their very feet. MOD YOUR COMBAT, SHOW YOUR STYLE Power up your fighters' weapons and abilities from a vast arsenal of cybernetic parts, all earnable through gameplay. Customise your hoverboard mounts to ride with style across the vibrant cyberpunk arenas of Bleeding Edge. https://youtu.be/SmZzFaXjtgE

Element Space (March 24)

Assemble an elite crew and make allies to combat a shadowy organization threatening the future of humanity. As Captain Christopher Pietham, lead your crew into battle and save humanity from extinction! Travel to the far reaches of spaces, recruit allies, gather equipment, and combat deadly enemies as you strategically maneuver your squad, utilize cover, flank your enemies, and combine your companions’ skills and unique abilities for deadly effect.

Yu-Gi-Oh! Legacy of the Duelist: Link Evolution (March 24)

Experience over 20 years of Yu-Gi-Oh! history with Yu-Gi-Oh! Legacy of the Duelist: Link Evolution! Build your deck from over 9,000 cards and take on the most iconic duelists from the Yu-Gi-Oh! universe. Relive the stories from the original animated series and challenge the newest generation of Duelists from the virtual world of Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS!

Wartile (March 24)

Experience a living, breathing tabletop video game that invites the player into a miniature universe full of small adventures set in beautifully handcrafted diorama battle boards inspired by Norse mythology to honor the Vikings! Wartile is a cool-down based game that keeps the action flowing, with ample opportunities to plan your moves. Although it contains the strategic elements from turn-based games, a mixture of slow down features and cool-down based gameplay maintains the tension of battle while allowing for breathing room to make tactical decisions. At its heart, Wartile is a game about positioning and tactical decision making. https://youtu.be/sg_v4R_-pV8

Deep Sky Derelicts: Definitive Edition (March 24)

In a grim dystopian future, where mankind has scattered across the galaxy and human society has split into two distinct classes, you’re a poor stateless outcast forced to live off scraps from derelict alien stations and ships in outer space. Experience Deep Sky Derelicts in its definitive edition, which brings together the base game and its two DLC, New Prospects and Station Life.

Duck Souls+ (March 25)

A fast-paced, action platformer about a little duck with an incredible skill to dash and a mission: find all the eggs to save his species. Set in a cute and deadly fantasy world, where many traps will rip your wings off your body while you struggle to grasp the frail, fragile egg. Run, jump, and dash through a colourful and treacherous environment to save everyone and become a hero… if you can.

Ara Fell: Enhanced Edition (March 26)

"Long, long ago, the elven sorcerers cast a spell to save the floating world of Ara Fell from destruction. Instead, they doomed it to fall from the sky. By chance, the fate of the world has been placed in the hands of a young woman. Join her as she and her friends endeavor against all odds to save their homeland, all while the clock ticks ever nearer the final hour..." Ara Fell: Enhanced Edition combines the best parts of Japanese-style roleplaying games with the best parts of western RPGs, as well as including elements of visual novels and adventure games to create a truly unique experience. Atmosphere, emotion and surprise lie at the forefront of Ara Fell's story, driven by deep and accessible characters, each with his or her own past, their own desires and their own motivations for joining Lita's quest. Relive the golden age of the RPG with a game that both pays homage to the past greats, as well as blazing its own trail. Features: EXPLORATION - Ara Fell is a world meant to be explored! Jump, crawl, swim and even fly through the air to solve puzzles and discover new locations filled with hidden treasure, secrets and adventure!OPEN WORLD - Most of the world can be explored from the moment you leave Aloria Village, the heroine's home town... provided, of course, you're strong enough.TACTICAL COMBAT - Ara Fell may be a story-heavy game, but the world is still fraught with danger. Choose specialized equipment and statistics, customizing each character to best suit yourplay style.CHARACTER DRIVEN - Ara Fell's heroine sets on her quest to save her homeland, and discovers a world of vibrant characters. Friends and villains alike are not who they seem as the stakes grow higher... https://youtu.be/IhF32kU1Kf0

Borderlands 3: Guns, Love, and Tentacles (March 26)

The only thing more precious than loot is love. It’s time for a joyous celebration now that Sir Alistair Hammerlock and Wainwright Jakobs have announced their upcoming nuptials. The adventurous couple has invited you and your fellow Vault Hunters to a surprisingly dangerous engagement party, hosted on the planet of Xylourgos where a gargantuan monster lies frozen above a decrepit village. Part of the Borderlands 3: Season Pass.

Mekorama (March 26)

Guide the adorable robot “B” to safety after he crash lands on a strange cubic planet. Explore each level, rotating it in 3D to see all sides, looking for a way through to the goal. 100 varied levels continuously toss up new surprises that you’ll never know what to expect.

Bears Can’t Drift (March 17)

Put your paw to the floor and power slide between the pines as you face-off against up to three friends in multiplayer split screen. Including twelve tracks spread across three worlds and three game modes with up to eleven computer-controlled opponents, Bears Can’t Drift!? is retro karting action with a modern look and feel. Features: Old school karting feel12 different tracks to master3 unique hub worlds to exploreUp to 4 player split-screen8 different pick-ups to useSurprisingly skilled bears! https://youtu.be/6prNK9JrKBg

Bite the Bullet (March 27)

Run, Gun and Eat your way through this roguelite RPG shooter. In a world where every enemy is edible, what you eat and how much you eat drives everything from your waistline to branching skill trees to weapon crafting (in your stomach, of course). Shoot fast. Eat big. Satisfy your appetite for destruction.

Gigantosaurus: The Game (March 27)

Explore and race across the prehistoric world of Gigantosaurus. This Disney dino tale is part saving the world, part super race, and all giant fun! Rocky, Tiny, Mazu and Bill have scary problems – like the meteor that’s blocked up Giganto’s volcano! Only you and your dino friends can dare to solve puzzles and save the day – but you might need Giganto’s powers too! And the end of each story is the start of a super rally to the next zone. Will you be the most roarsome adventurer or the fastest racer? Features: Join dino buddies Rocky, Tiny, Mazu and Bill on a daring quest to help Giganto and escape extinctionHop in your race kart for a super rally to reach the next adventure zone and find out who’s the fastest dinosaurYou and up to 3 friends can control your favorite dino and create co-operative adventures together

One Piece: Pirate Warriors 4 (March 27)

The PIRATE WARRIORS series has successfully combined the popular anime ONE PIECE with the thrilling action of the WARRIORS series to create a worldwide phenomenon selling more than four million copies! Based on the concept of "fighting hordes of enemies while adventuring with trusted allies," experience awesome ONE PIECE action lifted straight from the anime! ONE PIECE: PIRATE WARRIORS 4 is the latest evolution of PIRATE WARRIORS action! Based on the concept of "experiencing a real ONE PIECE battlefield," buildings will come crashing down during the action and attacks will throw up smoke and dust, placing you in the thick of the ONE PIECE world! Injecting fresh elements that couldn't be achieved in previous entries has now realized an even more thrilling brand of PIRATE WARRIORS action! https://youtu.be/Fg-IchTd5Cc

Inops (March 27)

Explore the shadowy Mine, twisty Jungle and extra-terrestrial Elect-City but be careful of lurking dangers. Escape traps, solve puzzles and dodge enemies using the Inops ability to split into many little creatures or join into one big Inop whenever you wish. Use the environment to your advantage by using unique intractable components whilst guiding the Inops simultaneously. Get to the end of each level and save as many Inops as you can to avoid being lonesome. https://youtu.be/J5bv7cvhKwI

Children of Zodiarcs (March 27)

Story Professional thieves on the trail of an ancient relic, the group infiltrates the glittering halls of a corrupt noble’s private chambers in pursuit of their target, narrowly escaping the wrath of the city guards at every turn. Desperate to find an escape, they seek refuge in the city’s seamy slums and brave the sunless pits of the underworld. Out to get them are heavily armed city guards, rival gangs and psychotic families of subterranean cannibals. Abandoned by the system and used by selfish criminals, these young companions will be forced to come to terms with their own reality. But be warned - in the world of Children of Zodiarcs, no one escapes unscathed! Features: Combat Cards - Each of your party members’ attacks & abilities are bound to combat cards. Drawing different cards during battle provides you with ever changing combat possibilities every time you fight!Empower Cards through Dice - Once you’ve chosen your attack, physics based dice allow you to roll for bonuses! Favoring symbols over numbers, these dice deliver attack, defence, healing, and special ability modifiers.Influencing Lady Luck - To add yet more layers of stratagem to Children of Zodiarcs, you can craft dice to favour your play style, and re-roll up to two dice every time you throw. You need not fear being at Lady Luck’s mercy!A World Full of Characters - Along the way you’ll come to learn about Nahmi - stolen from her homeland as a child, Brice - forced to survive on the mean streets of Torus; Zirchhoff - a charismatic bandit leader who employs young orphans to do his bidding: as well as many more mischief makers.Building Decks - Each playable character comes with their own customisable deck. This allows you to tailor their skillset to the types of attacks and abilities you want to have in your hand during the heat of combat.A Fully Orchestrated Score - Children of Zodiarcs’ music captures the feel of tactical RPG classics with its fully orchestrated soundtrack composed by the award winning team at Vibe Avenue.Join Nahmi and her team in a harrowing tale of the downtrodden’s struggle for survival in a world where mystical forces are overlooked; and the people in power are solely concerned with profit. Do you have what it takes to overthrow a corrupt system? https://youtu.be/bt7CkKtxmwQ Read the full article

[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 14

Nearly two hours and a numb butt later, I stood with the people in my row and prepared to exit the theater. We turned in sync to face the outer isle and I continued to feel that undeniable piercing stare. Turning my head to look at the rows behind us, I started to wonder if maybe I was only imagining things. We were wedged into our row, waiting for the people who’d already crossed into the main isle to move down the stairs. I took advantage of the moment and raised my gaze to the highest row of the theater and almost wished I’d just ignored the urge to look around at all... a familiar pair of light brown orbs bore relentlessly into mine.

I dropped my gaze to the hand that he had pressed against the lower back of his expectant girlfriend and nearly ran into the back of Nalay as I returned his intense stare. “Ma’am, have you noticed that we have yet to move? You’re walking like I just took a step forward.” She said with a smirk as she glanced back at me.

“Ya’ll come the fuck on. What is the damn hold up?” Tameka said, loudly and in a tone full of attitude, a few seats behind me. We finally edged forward and nearly entered the main isle in sync with Chris and Gabby. “Baby my feet hurt.” She said and the obnoxious sound of her voice alone had me rolling my eyes. “I know Gab, we’ll be out in a minute.” He mumbled. “If these perras weren’t moving so damn slow in front of us, maybe we could get the hell outta here.” Her attitude was thicker than her accent as she practically yelled from behind us.

Her rude statement prompted Tameka to whip her head around to place a face to the offensive voice and she instantly frowned “Who the fuck… oh hell nah.” Nudging her partner in crime, Destani, in the arm, they both swung around to face Gabby. With a deep scowl, Tameka parted her lips to undoubtedly initiate an argument, but swiftly noticed Chris’s presence behind her. “Chris, boo! Hey, how you doing?” She spoke loudly as she pushed her way through the group of people behind us and teetered around Gabby to get to him. “I’m good Meeks. How are you?” He greeted her with a grin and embraced her in a friendly hug.

“Where the hell have you been my nigga? It‘s like your ass just fell off the face of the earth!” She exclaimed as she cleverly eased him down the steps toward the group and away from Gabby. I glanced back and spotted the duo approaching and sharply rolled my eyes as I turned to march away. “Sy, where you going?” Destani asked, noticing my sudden departure. “Um, I have to use the restroom. I’ll meet you guys in the lobby.” I lied, turning quickly to make my way down the steps to exit the theater.

I moved swiftly through the lobby toward the panel of exit doors, almost making a smooth transition into the parking lot… until I felt a large hand gently grasp my shoulder. Swinging around with a frown plastered on my face, I bit back a gasp as I stared up at the handsome stranger who smirked right back at me. “Whoa there beautiful, don’t hit me now.” His voice was masculine and coated in the cutest country twang. His complexion was that of a sweet mocha delicacy and he stood just about as tall as Chris. He held his manly hands out in a surrendering manner and the most adorably crooked smirk tugged as his lips. I smiled tensely and waited for him to explain why he’d just stopped me from making a fun for it.

“Um, you left your purse in the theater. I just wanted to make sure you got it back.” He spoke with cocky smirk that never left his face. Glancing down at his left hand, I spotted my bag that I did indeed seem to have forgotten in the theater. “Oh um, thanks.” I muttered, reaching to grab it. “But…” He pulled it back and took a step back from me, holding up a single digit on his right hand, “You have to do one thing for me before I give it back.” I stared at him in utter confusion as he chuckled and shook his head “You have to tell me your name.” He beamed.

“Sy’Diyah.” I could feel my cheeks warming as he laced his voice with charm. “Sy’Diyah,” He repeated with an approving nod of his head, “I like that… Sy’Diyah. I’m Trey” Giggling, I dropped my gaze bashfully to the dark pavement covering the parking lot… he was quite alluring and I felt like a small timid child beneath the intensity of his gaze. “So Miss Sy’Diyah, since you’re absolutely breathtaking and I’d be a complete fool to let you walk away without you promising to let me take you on a date… how about we exchange numbers?” His attack was suave and direct, but my nerves quickly got the best of me as I hesitated to respond to his suggestion.

“I won’t bite, I promise. I’d just like to get to know you… if you don’t mind.” His demeanor was captivating… so much so that before I could think twice, I reached down into my bag to grab my phone. Reciting our respective numbers to one another, I quickly tuned in to the sound of the group approaching us from the exit doors of the theater. “That’s your friends?” Trey asked, glancing briefly at them before focusing his attention on me. “Yeah.” I mumbled, praying that he would wrap up his conversation before they arrived.

“Uh, excuse me ma’am,” Too late… they’d already closed in and Tameka was the first to speak, “Girl I thought you were going to the bathroom… and we find you in the parking lot spittin game to a fine ass nigga, how you doing?” I turned to Trey with reddened cheeks of pure embarrassment, but I was completely taken aback by the sight of him smirking casually as if he was totally used to awkward compliments like that. He chuckled cordially and raised a curious brow at her. “I’m doing good young lady, how are you?” He asked graciously. “Ooooooh honey, who are you and where did you come from?” She pressed a hand against her chest theatrically, emitting laughter from the group.

“I’m Trey sweetheart… and you are?” Sticking a large limb out, he waited patiently for her to reciprocate the action and introduce herself. With a smirk, she gripped his hand and batted her long lashes unnecessarily “I’m Meka baby.” He chortled as he scanned his coffee brown eyes over the clan, pausing inconspicuously at a scowling Chris. I glanced at him and noted the bright blush in his cheeks as his stare danced from Trey to me. “You all must be friends of Miss Beautiful here.” He said, winking coolly at me.

Tameka glanced at me with a smirk and a raised brow “We sure are Mr. Man. This is Destani, Nalay, and Chris.” “Pleasure to meet you all.” He said, tossing a hand up courteously. The girls politely returned the greeting, but Chris remained mute as he stared daggers into Trey. “Well Sy’Diyah... I’m about to head out. It was certainly a pleasure to be the one to return your bag to you. I’ll definitely hit you up soon for that date alright.” With a nod, I nearly swooned as he winked once more then turned and swaggered off.

“Baby, where the hell did you find that nigga? With his sexy country ass!” Destani exclaimed. Giggling at her outburst, I adjusted my cross body bag over my shoulder and shook my head “Apparently I left my purse in the theater. He spotted it and followed me out here to give it back.” “Damn… let me start leaving my shit in random places. I’m trynna hook and bait a real nigga like that!” Tameka’s tone was completely somber and we laughed at her matching expression.

Noticing the obvious irritation radiating from Chris like heat, Nalay turned to face him and nudged him playfully in the arm “What’s up Chris? Why you looking like that?” “Nothing. I’m about to go…” He didn’t have more than a second to finish his sentence before a rambunctious voice blared from behind us. “Chris… Christopher! Se que me oyes (I know you hear me)!” Gabby screeched as she strutted toward us. “My bad Gab… come on, we’re about to leave.” He said, taking a step toward her before she reached the group.

“No… I want you explain to me why the fuck you left me in that damn theater. I told you I was going to the bathroom and you run out here with these bitches? Que diablos (what the fuck)!” Her tone matched her demeanor as she stood about a foot away from him with all of her weight shifted to one leg and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hold the fuck up hoe, who the fuck are you callin a bitch?” Tameka was swift in her approach as she rushed forward to confront Gabby over Chris’s broad shoulder. “You and your little dumb ass friends, estúpido (stupid)!” Gabby retorted, taking a step to the side in an attempt to slip past Chris’s towering frame.

“I know you not talkin, puta mierda (fucking bitch)!” I nearly laughed at Destani’s mocking insult, but the absurdity was quickly cut short as she catapulted forward past Tameka and waved a threatening finger in Gabby’s face, “At least ain’t none of us standin the fuck out here knocked the fuck up, but don’t know who the fuck the baby daddy is… you pussy poppin’ ass bitch! Any nigga in this mothafucka could be your bastard baby’s daddy!”

An abrupt layer of silence seemed to engulf the entire parking lot and the world around me felt completely frozen in time. I stared at Chris in absolute horror as his expression turned cold and he glared back at me blankly. Guilt immediately overwhelmed me and I nearly vomited as I stood in the center of his harsh stare. He’d shared his biggest secret with me in confidence… and Destani had just blurted it for everyone to hear in her fit of rage.

“You don’t know shit about me and my baby you ghetto bitch! Shut the fuck up!” Gabby hollered and strained against Chris as she clawed her hands through the air, desperately reaching for Destani. She threw a wild fist over his arm and nearly connected it with the stunned face of Destani.

“Let this hoe go Chris! Let her go. You wanna try me, you basic ass bitch,” Nalay and Tameka rushed forward in an attempt to regulate an infuriated Destani, who was only centimeters from grabbing a handful of Gabby’s hair, “Try me bitch! Please come for me… I will light your ass to infinity and beyond! I swear I’ve been wantin to whoop that ass from day one, you tea disgusting ass bitch! Let me get this hoe… please let me get this hoe!”

“Hey… Hey! What’s going on over here?” My head swept around to the left and I spotted two burly security guards ambling toward us. I knew Destani would need to be restrained immediately before the security guards called the police from all the commotion, so I instantly snapped out of my daze and rushed forward to help detain her.

“Shit Dez, I am not about to let you go to jail because of this hoe… lets go!” Tameka managed to lift Destani completely from the ground and she dragged her back away from the chaotic scene. Destani struggled against her tight grip, but Nalay and I were quick to assist and soon we were on our way to the car. I could still hear the obnoxious voice of Gabby as she screamed obscenities in our direction, but Chris restrained her effortlessly as he carried her off in the opposite direction.

--

“I cannot believe that bitch had the fuckin audacity to come for me. Like bro, you shoulda let my ass go to jail Meka… give me a reason to sit in a fuckin cell with a big bertha looking bitch!” Destani fumed from the passenger seat and Nalay and Tameka laughed as I sat there quietly dazing out of the window of the backseat. “I can’t believe your crazy ass tried to fight that girl… and she’s pregnant!” Nalay commented from the driver’s seat.

“I don’t give a fuck Nay, I do not give a single fuck! She will have that fuckin unmarked ass baby prematurely fuckin with me. Let me catch her, anywhere, at any time… and I swear it’s a mothafuckin wrap!” She fussed, slouching in her seat with her arms crossed furiously. “Real talk though, I cannot believe that bitch is really pregnant. That shit is sad because Chris just found her ass cheatin not too long ago. I mean, he can’t possibly think that baby is his… I know this hoe has cheated more than once.” Tameka chimed in.

At that exact moment, I felt like I needed to defend him. I’d caused him enough grief and embarrassment in only a matter of minutes, so I felt the least I could do was protect his name in his absence “Chris is the baby’s father.” I blurted. “Sy’Diyah are you serious?” Destani sat up suddenly and whipped around in her seat to face me, “You can’t be fuckin serious right now? Shit maybe that nigga got you whipped too… you a fuckin fool if you believe that’s his baby.”

I rolled my eyes at the attitude oozing from her words, but refused to comment on it only because I knew she was worked up and merely speaking from anger “It is his Destani. He told me himself that it’s his and he plans to be there for the baby.” “How can it be Sy,” She started, with furrowed brows, “I know Chris can’t be as stupid as he acts. I know that nigga don’t be raw doggin that bitch… I know it! She’s a slut. She fucks around. That’s not his baby. End of story.”

With a shake of my head, I turned to glare out of the window and proceeded to tune out their conversation for the remainder of the ride as I began to uneasily wonder about Chris. I was seriously concerned with how he would react to Destani’s sloppy exposure of his situation. I was really beginning to feel like I was constantly letting him down as his supposed best friend and I knew that at this moment, I was surely on thin ice with him.

I was the last to be dropped off at home and once Nalay bid me adieu in my vacant driveway, I wandered to the front door and let myself in, trudging with the day’s worries weighing heavily on my shoulders. Once I stomped my way up the stairs and stepped into my room, I flipped on the light switch and kicked off my sandals just inside the door. Naturally raising my gaze to scan over my room, I flinched and gasped like a frightened idiot at the sight of Chris perched comfortably on the edge of my bed. He sat with his legs wide and his elbows planted against his knees. His hands were linked together beneath his chin and I couldn’t even see his eyes because he wore his hat ridiculously low over his brow.

I stood leaning warily in the center of the frame of the door with a hand pressed against my chest, honestly too afraid to move further into the room. “What are you doing here?” My voice quivered pathetically. He didn’t bother to respond and my nerves instantly kicked into overdrive from his odd behavior. He tilted his head discreetly and stared at me as if he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. Glancing back with the sudden urge to ease right back out of the room, I didn’t even have time to complete that thought before I heard the sound of him clearing his throat.

“Close the door.” He muttered in a cold whisper that left a trail of goosebumps on my arms. My stomach was in knots, but I adhered to his request. I gazed insistently at him and took note of his stone expression that never seemed to waver. He stood suddenly and I swallowed back the thick lump forming in my throat. He looked so intimidating as he moved sluggishly toward me and eventually I felt the cool surface of the door against my back, as I’d thoughtlessly moved back while he continued to stalk forward. He swiftly closed in on me and stood just inches away from my face, stretching an arm around me and locking the door.

“Sit down.” His voice remained low as he glared at me. Quickly rushing past him, I moved toward the bed making sure to approach the side furthest from where he’d been sitting. He knew just how to hit the climax of the moment as he allowed the room to remain silent for the following few minutes. “What took you so long to get home?” He continued to speak in that incriminatingly hushed tone, sending chills down my spine to accompany the goosebumps coating my skin. “Um, we all rode with Nalay. She dropped everyone else off before me…” I explained with a quick glance in his direction. He nodded as I fiddled anxiously with my fingers. Through my peripheral, I watched silently as he lifted the brim of his hat and ran a hand over his tense face.

“I’m not even about to beat around the bush… what the fuck was that back at the movies?” He blurted, swiftly turning his entire frame to face me. His brows were deeply furrowed as his strangely darkened orbs bore into mine like he was trying to read my thoughts. “What are you talking about?” I muttered, keeping my gaze glued to my hands. “Why does Destani know that Gabby is pregnant Sy’Diyah?” That very question hit me like a ton of bricks and at that moment I knew I couldn’t avoid the conflict any longer… he was beginning to call me by my full name, which meant that he meant business.

With a single shoulder shrug, I remained silent and avoided his piercing stare at all costs. “What the fuck does that mean?” Inhaling a sharp breath through his nose, he shook his head as if ridding himself of a sudden thought just before releasing a sigh, “I don’t even know why I asked that… I know you ran and told her big mouth ass, like you tell her every got damn thing else!” “She’s my best friend Chris.” I muttered, almost completely defeated as I glanced at him for the first time in several minutes.

He glared at me as though I had two heads and I noted the irritation in his demeanor as he held both hands up in confusion. “Oh, she’s your best friend huh? So what the fuck does that make me? I clearly don’t matter enough for you to take shit that I say serious and now you think it’s okay to run and tell her all my fuckin business?” “Chris, don’t say that. There is no competition between you two… she’s your best friend too!”

“I don’t give a fuck Sy’diyah! I told you that shit in confidence because I trust you. Like… have I not done enough to prove to you where you stand in my life? Have I not expressed enough that you are the only person that I trust? If I wanted Destani to know, I would have fuckin told her!” He was starting to work himself up now and I could tell that just by the blush forming in the apples of his cheeks. “I understand that, but…” “It wasn’t your place to fuckin say shit to her!” He roared and I stared on in utter shock at the bulging veins in his neck.

Briefly shutting my eyes, I raised a hand to stop his rant and shook my head, “Listen, yes… I told Destani about Gabby’s pregnancy. Okay… I’m sorry. I understand that you’re upset… I get it, but you cannot keep yelling at me, thinking that you’re going to get your point across. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this…” “You don’t understand why I’m actin like this?" He interrupted angrily, "I don’t know, maybe it’s because loud mouth just embarrassed the fuck out of me in a got damn, public ass movie theater parking lot. Not to mention, she openly questioned the paternity of my child right there in my face!”

“I don’t trust many people Sy,” He explained, with abrupt sorrow suddenly masking his tone, “You know that. I've always felt like I could share my entire life story with you, because I trust you. I can sit here and tell you that when I was a kid and my bitch ass dad was around, he used to beat my ass like I was a grown man. I can tell you how often he would make me sit and watch him beat the fuck out of my mother every got damn day; I can tell you how I went through the deepest depression and damn near tried to kill myself because I felt like my existence was completely pointless because my own father hated me and I was too much of a pussy to defend my mom. Why did I deserve to be here if I wasn’t even man enough to stop that nigga from whooping my mama’s ass? He beat my ass because he knew that… he took advantage of my weakness Sy’Diyah. I can tell you that my father didn’t want me because then, I was a weak little bitch…”

I was too stunned to respond immediately, but I couldn’t ignore the despair in his tone and just how unsteady his voice sounded as he spoke. It wasn’t until I turned to face him that I felt the first trail of tears against my own cheeks. He was opening himself up in a way I’d never witnessed before. There was anger, passion, and resentment in his voice. I’d never known of the demons of his past and I surely didn’t intend on triggering such horrific memories all from the incident that happened at the movies. It truly killed me to know that I was the cause of those taunting thoughts… I was the reason he sat here falling apart before my very eyes.

Somehow, he managed to paint the picture of his past in such a vivid way that forced me to see and feel the pain and dejection he faced when he was only a child and my heart shattered from the thought alone. It was impossible for me to imagine Chris ever experiencing such terror at any point in his life. He was the strongest, most mature young man I’d ever met. He had the wisdom of a man fifty years his senior and the strength of a bull, with a temper to match. He masked his story well and I found it nearly unbearable to understand the depth that was he…

[metalskullcowboy]

Surround yourself with the things you love, disregard the rest… Hope this motto has helped you find yourself, find peace… I’ve struggled with myself for everything I fucked up, I’ve played different scenarios in my head about how I could’ve done things different but I always go back further back than The last night. I go back to when we were just talking… our first 3 weeks, do you remember any of it? Aside of all the complaining we did about our partners, all the other things we just clicked on… The chemistry between us was strong

I was a troubled child too I walked lost for most of my life Viviendo en la locura Never thought I’d make it past 20 So as I got older I started reading different books about psychology, and different religions, picked up little things here and there, gave myself certain standards, morals to go by Ma'at, Taiji, Dharma… Everything is energy, Vibe the way it will attract positivity into your life! Though I had figured it out, though I knew what I wanted How to live a happy life It sure doesn’t help when you are with someone whos way of seeing things is totally contradicting to yours but then I met you My world changed… the first time I looked into your eyes I felt energy I’ve never experienced before ojos que embrujan? No, this felt like destiny, we were meant to find each other… I didn’t know why but I knew from the beginning that you were special.. Inside those beautiful eyes I found myself getting lost, it’s like I could see right through your soul, much like mine, mistreated, hurt… but refusing to give up on life, giving the world your best smile, I admired your courage and your passion your inner beauty outshined your outer beauty.

I never felt such closure with myself Holding on to you, kissing you.. This is where I truly felt like I had found myself, you brought me joy and calmness, a feeling beyond imagination, you were such an inspiration & I couldn’t help but to adore you, my heart melted for you. I obsessed over needing to keep you around… I needed you.

I still remember the times we spent just talking on the phone, specially the time you were out your house sitting on that green cover We shared stories and realized​ we had so much in common, such a similar way of thinking that night I heard you say “you are my soulmate” and I believed it more than anything else

Talking to you freed me from addiction.. I remained celibated​ from the day I met you until the day you took me to your house, and even though that was a short time, I synced with you then more than with anybody before… do you remember me looking you straight in the eyes and asking you “do you know what I truly want with you? I want a relationship” And how could I not? You are the woman of my dreams I was already so deep in love with you I was ready to jump from one boat to another All I wanted was you no matter what If only you felt the same way… I thought you were the one I was meant to be with , so I did anything I could to get closer to you, I broke my rules for you… I knew you weren’t ready for everything I wanted with you, so I thought I would take time and give you space I wanted you to be free spread your wings and watch you fly But our lives at the moment were so tangled up, the only times things seem ok was when we were alone I thought things were starting to fall in place…

The whole time I knew that I was wrong, I had another woman at home and you had him, breaking my vows, sneaking around to see you, but the only person who’s opinion matter to me was with us most of the time.. I admire you as a mom… but it did hurt when I heard her call you a sidechick, it hurt when I heard her give you attitude because you were with me and not him… Those last few days I was so down and I know you could tell, I didn’t want to hurt anybody with my selfishness, but there were already too many people involved in the mess.

Those hickeys.. I never wanted her to know about us messing around, I knew I was gonna break her heart but I did not want to destroy her. You asked why I let you do that.. I guess I got lost in the moment but even as I knew it was happening I let it happen because it felt good to be marked as yours.. in the aftermath I kept lying to the world, but you… My head became twisted lies on top of lies Weighed down heavy on my soul The only thing holding me together was the price at the end of the rope one look into your eyes and I believed it would all be worth it at the end

“You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did”

Our last night… you met with him and I met with her, she asked me to come back, that she was willing to forgive me, things were gonna be different, she begged…and I told her, “it’s too late, things have changed.” I watched her break down in front of me, and I let her walked away… it hurt, but you were all that mattered at the time , I would do anything for you. couple of hours later I hear you say “ I’m going back with him, maybe in six months we can have something” Damn I was the one begging you this time, “please don’t do this, this is our time” Then you said “my body is with you but my heart is with him” My heart sunk to floor with those words… Did I give up everything just to be a side piece… a second option… Was it all just a game to you? Was I the fuckboy? Why did you mark me then? Was I the only one who saw the possibility of having the best relationship of our lives Was I the only who was in love? Did you lie to me or did I lie to myself?

This was Karma… And I felt like the biggest fool.

I played the game to win what is inside your chest, not what’s in between your legs, I loved you before I cheated and I could’ve cared less about the sex…

I knew you were troubled, perhaps you felt stuck between a rock and a hard place But I knew I could not force my way into your life, I could not make this about me or him, I tried to hold back the tears… I knew I had to let you go.. why couldn’t I just disperse into nothing? what happened to needing time on your own, go MIA and dedicate time to your daughter and improve yourself? Things I would’ve love to support you with even if just as a friend But you were going back on your words So I burned my only bridge to you, I thought I wouldnt mind swiming if the bridge was too fucked up to begin with.. I felt apart, things got out of hand, when does telling the truth ever help anyone? It only helps the one person spilling it out So I fucked up, I talked to him, more of a interrogation than a conversation, thought I made sure he understood that I loved you too but would no longer be in the way if he decided to forgive you and try to make it work, I talked to her, made sure she understood That you were more than just crush, you meant alot to me “I felt in love with her” were my first words. Did alot more damaged that way But I was done telling lies Whispers in my ear told me you were never serious about me, all you wanted was to get back to him, used me for your own selfish motives, disregard me when you were done. But I like to believe we were friends before anything, before we became nothing I’m sorry I let you down… Broke your trust, pushed you away, forced you to do something you didn’t want to, put you in a bad situation. See.. to me you are like a star… beautiful, elegant, full of light Others came around before me but they had only been smothering your flame, I wanted to help you shine your brightest, but the closer I got the more I would burn myself I would’ve burn away till I reached your core but I never thought you would slip away

I pray you are doing well, Hope youve been able to solve your issues, and even I put you in a bad situation, hope you’ve been able to come up on top, stronger and wiser than before. Fall in love with yourself, love will come again

P.s…Todavía eres primer pensamiento todas las mañanas….

[lykanthropa]

The legend of the Medic

Summary: Aimeric tells his offspring Jeremy a story about an apple hating doctor and his servant. A story that will open the eyes of the future Scout

An apple a day keeps the doctor away

 Boston, Massachusetts 1954

“Are you already in bed, Jeremy?” “Yes, dad!” Aimeric enters his son's room. The little whirlwind lies cuddled in his bed. The Frenchman folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Teeth brushed?” “Yes.” “Did you give Mama a goodnight kiss?” “Yes!” A smile flash over the face of the otherwise so strict papa. “Very good. That sounds as if you deserve a bedtime story.” “Yeeaahhh!” Aimeric sits down on the bed and pulls the blanket slightly higher. “What shall I tell?” “About vampires!” “What?!” “I want a story about vampires!” “’ow did you get it? ‘ow do you know this word?” “My brothers have watched with me a vampire movie.” “What was that? I can’t believe it! If your brothers visit us again, I will flay them alive!” Jeremy flinched. He pulls his blanket over his face. He doesn't like his father to be loud and he doesn't want his brothers to get in any trouble. He loves them so much! Aimeric reassures himself quickly as he hears his son whimpering. Carefully he pulls the blanket from his head. “Hey, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I didn't want to be loud.” Jeremy hesitates briefly, then jumps up and hugs his father. He returns the embrace. He presses his little son to himself and caresses his back. “It’s okay. But you are not allowed to watch ‘orror movies.” He puts Jeremy back and covers him up. “Why not?” “Because you get nightmares.” “But I didn’t get any nightmares.” “And what about your mother? What would she say if she should find that out?” “Please don’t tell her! I don’t want to make Ma sad.” Aimeric looks at his son. “Mhm… Alright. I won't tell ‘er.” “It remains our secret?” “Yes, it remains our secret. But you have to promise me that you will never do that again. You're only six years old.” “Promised! I love you dad.” “I love you too, junior.” Jeremy jumps up once again and hugs his father. And, of course, he replies the embrace again before he puts him down again. “So. But now you stay lying down. After all, you want a story, right?” “Yeeeaahhh!” “All right, then… I won't tell you about vampires, but I'll tell you about the legend of the Medic.” “The legend of the Medic?” “In the fantasy world Germany lives the Medic together with ‘is servant Heavy in a dreamy old town called Rottenburg.” “Why is his name…heavy?” “Because he is a big, ‘eavy Russian.” “What is a Russian?” “A mythical creature, just like Germans. So, the Medic is active only at night. Only at this time does he visit the children…” “Is he Santa Claus?” “No. As I said, there are no Germans, but Santa is real. You know that, do you?” “Yes, dad~” “The Medic does not visit all the children, but only those who were naughty.” “What is he doing with the children?” “He gives them an injection.” Jeremy pulls his blanket up again. “A-an injection?” “Yes, an injection. Naughty children get an injection.” “But… I got an injection, too. So am I…naughty?” Aimeric laughs. “No, no. You got a vaccination. This is something else. Only if you get an injection from a German Medic, it means you were naughty. And since there are no Germans, you don't need to be afraid.” “Does the injection hurt?” “If it's from a German Medic, yes.” “.........”Jeremy whimpered softly. “But the Medic ‘as a weakness, which people use to keep ‘im from their children.” “…garlic?” “Apples.” “Oh no!” “They cut them into slices and hung them outside the window of the children's room. Because one thing you have to remember. An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” “I thought the saying means that you don't need a doctor if you eat a lot of apples because apples keep you healthy.” Aimeric puts his arms in the sides. “If you know so well, why don't you eat apples regularly?” “I don’t like apples… They are boring.” “But you like to drink apple juice, don't you?” “I don't have to chew these apples.” Aimeric sighs. This boy… “Okay.” “What is Medic doing on the day?” “During the day? During the day he sleeps in his villa, feeds his doves and plays chess with his servant.” “So the Medic is an old man?” “What makes you think that?” “Because only old people sleep in the day, feed doves and play chess.” “………” That kid… „Shall I tell the story now or would you rather sleep?” “I'm quiet now!” “Well. Medic and Heavy are sitting together at a game of chess when the big, old grandfather clock ‘eralds the start of the midnight time with a loud gong…”

↓

“Aaaand… checkmate!” “Oh no… Heavy lost again.” “Don’t worry about it, my friend. At some point you will defeat me.” “Heavy does not believe that. Doktor is too smart for Heavy.” “Ach Heavy. What would I be without you?” A clock gong dins through the old living room. “Oh? Already midnight? How time flies when you amuse yourself.” “Does Doktor have to sting children again?” “Yes, Heavy.” Medic wants to be on his way to his doctor's room to get his syringe when he notices his look. “Don’t look at me like that.” “But Heavy feels sorry for children.” “Well, the brats would have had to think beforehand if they wanted to be cheeky.” “But they are just children. Children are sometimes something...cheeky.” “Nein, nein, nein! That will not work. If the parents are not able to properly educate their kids, they must reckon with the consequences. And what is the best way to child education than a big, painful syringe? A good beating might not be wrong, too...” “Can Doktor not stay at home one night? Heavy feels uncomfortably alone at night.” “Unfortunately this is not possible. I have an important job to fulfill. It will not last long either. I promise.” “………”

A little later Medic sneaks through the sleeping Rottenburg. Past the Kritzhaus, the Humboldt Sauermilch Molkerei GmbH and Otto's Café. There is a strange odor in the night air, but Medic does not think anything of it until he reaches the first house. The boy who lives there simply does not learn his lesson. Medic was already with him three times. As often as with no other child. And today is the fourth time. The little one is a veritable whirlwind. He is loud, wild and loves to swing his little baseball bat. And with this he has pelted a squirrel with nuts, which he had previously stolen from the rodent. Somehow, he will get it. Some children are simply stupid and often need a slap on the butt. And the slap is in the form of a big syringe. Children are afraid of injections. And especially this rascal shouts loudly at the injection. But still no improvement of his behavior. Then the best things come in fours. Whatever. Medic loves it to give a shot.

He skilfully climbed up the outer wall of the house. “I’m coming, little boy~” The children's room is on an advantageous side. The houses are close together, but this is the last house near the bridge. The next houses continue beyond the bridge. That is, Medic has free backwind and below him the river. This strange smell grows stronger, the higher Medic climbs. And when he reaches the window, he realizes what's stinking here. An apple chain is hanging bevor the window. “Apples…?!!!” Medic automatically pushes himself off the wall, and since he cannot fly, he rushes down the ten meters and hits the water with a loud bang.

Heavy sits in the old reading chair, with a book in his hands and his reading glasses on his nose as the door opens and Medic stands in the frame. Soaking wet. “Doktor! What happened?” The good-natured Russian rushes over to his master, with the blanket of the chair, and places it around him. “Come in and sit down.” “Thanks, Heavy.” Heavy fuels the open fire. “What happened?” “I don’t know either… There are apples hanging in front of the windows of the children rooms.” “Apples?” “Yes. Sliced and attached to a leash.” “Oh… Everywhere?” “Yes. After I crashed into the river, I tried it somewhere else, but in vain. Apples everywhere. Well, I've lost my syringe anyway. Probably in the water.” “Poor Doktor.” “How do they know that? How do these stupid people know that apples are my weak spot?” “………” “Heavy…” “D-da, Doktor?” “You have nothing to do with it, do you?” “………” “Heavy. Don’t lie to me.” Heavy begins to tremble and the tears stand in his eyes. Then he fell to his knees before Medic. “Yes, it is true! It is Heavy's fault!” Medic jumps out of the chair and stares furiously down at his servant. “How dare you to delude me? Heavy!!” “Heavy is sorry! Heavy is sorry!!” “That's what you do when I sleep in my operating room on my operating table during the day, ja? Why? Tell me why!” Heavy wipes the tears from his face. “Heavy is so worried about Doktor! People are angry at him because he's poking their children! Heavy is afraid that one day they will hurt him with torches and pitchforks.” “Hurt me? Such a nonsense. These village idiots don't dare to go near to my house.” “Please stop it, Doktor. Heavy has never understood why you're doing it anyway.” “Oh, we've done that one! I do this because... because... Because I just have to do it. I'm a Medic.” “Heavy still does not understand it.” Medic sighs beaten. “It’s okay, Heavy. You don’t have to understand that. Stand up.” Heavy obeys. “Doktor is no longer angry?” “No, I'm no longer angry. But what am I to do now? I have to get to these children. It does not work with these damned apples.” “Maybe Heavy can help.” “How?” “By eating it.” “…what do you mean eating?” “Heavy loves apples.” “………!” Medic feels an urge to gag. “Since when do you like apples?” “All along. But Heavy has never dared to say that to Doktor.” “Did you secretly eat apples behind my back?” “Heavy-“ “No! Don’t say it. I don’t want to know it.” “But Doktor asked.” “I know I've asked, Heavy!” “...……” “I’m sorry… Please wait here. I'm going to get a new syringe and my 3 meter stick.”

Shortly after, Medic and Heavy sneak through the town. Heavy always wanted to go for a night walk with his master. Unfortunately, he has completely different interests. “Here we are, Heavy.” Medic is standing again in front of the house, from which he had fallen into the river. “This time I'll get you, you brat.” “But Doktor-“ Medic raises his hand to silence his servant. “No, Heavy. I get the thing down there now and you take care of it disappearing once and for all, understood?” Heavy nods. Medic uses his stick to bring down the apple chain in front of the window. It's not that easy. He has to stretch a little to get at that. “Hnngh! Come… down here…finally…!” “Chain is be fastened, Doktor.” “I can see that myself, Heavy.” Suddenly the apple chain breaks and falls down, directly in Medics direction. He does not react fast enough and it lands on his head. “Aahhhh! Take it away! Take it away!” Helpless and panicked, Medic gestures with his arms in the air. Heavy takes the apple slices and starts eating them. Medic turns away in disgust. “Now, that I know of your apple fetish, there will be no more kisses on the mouth in the future.” Heavy is hurt. “So, I'm climbing up there now and doing my job. You're waiting here. And don't let anyone see you, understood?” “Da, Doktor.” Again Medic climbs up the outer facade. Now that the apples are gone, he can open the window unmolested and enter the children's room. He quietly sneaks to the bed. The syringe in the right hand, while the left hand grips the bedspread. With a jerk, he pulles it down, lifted the syringe over his head to jab out. But he freezes in his movement when he realizes that the boy is not in bed at all. “What the…?” “Take that, you stupid vampire!” “What?!” The boy suddenly stands next to him, spraying a stinking, yellow liquid in his face. Medic freezes. “What is this?” “Apple juice.” “WWAAAAAHHHHHH!!” With a header, Medic jumps out of the window into the river. Meanwhile Heavy payed his attention to a street cat, who had crossed his path. But the doctor's cry had scared her off. “Doktor!” Heavy fished his master out of the water. “So ein Mist…” Suddenly, the lights of the houses of Rottenburg go on. “Let's get out of here, Heavy!” “Da, Doktor!” Heavy loads Medic on his shoulder and as fast as he can he brings himself and his master to their house, their safe place. They lock the front door. “What do we do now?” “I don’t know, Heavy. Such a thing has never happened before.” “They'll come for us, will not they?” “Nonsense! These are villages. Cowards. They are too be afraid of doing it.” “Death to the doctor! Death to the doctor! Death to the doctor!” The ominous singing comes nearer. As Medic and Heavy look out the window, they discover the inhabitants as they approach their house with torches and pitchforks. “Doktor?” “Yes, Heavy?” “Heavy has liked to work for you.” “Thanks, Heavy. And I thank you for the fact that you don't reproach me because we will burn shortly at the stake because of me.” “Death to the doctor! Death to the doctor! Death to the doctor!” The mob stops in front of the front door, furiously wave about with the pitchforks and torches. A couple of apples fly to the house wall and windows. Medic pushes one open and stares furiously down at the crowd. “What do you want?” “You have terrorized our children the longest time!” “I terrorize your children? Your children are terrorizing the whole town! And this is your own fault because you are just too stupid to educate them properly! I am doing nothing but giving them a lesson! A good beating might not be wrong, too...” “You monster! Go back to the hell hole you came from!” “Your ungrateful bunch! Stupid heap!” “Get out of our town and release the poor creature you force to work for you!” Medic turns to Heavy. He only shrugs.

The mob gets louder. A torch is thrown at Medic. But he can avoid it. It lands in the room behind him and sets the expensive carpet on fire. “Blow out the fire before it reaches my chemicals!” Heavy grabs the carpet and whirls it through the air. “Heavy, no!!” “Sparks fly through the room and one of them land directly in the test tube with the glycerine. “Raus hier!”

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“Then there was a ‘uge explosion and the two were never seen again.” “………” “………what?” “The story was stupid. You're really not a good storyteller.” Aimeric crosses his arms. “Why?” “Because it was not about vampires. Besides, you used a lot of words that I didn’t understand. For example, fae...fish. What does that mean? There were no fairies and fish in the story.” “Aha... ahah... ah. Listen, my son. This remains our secret too, okay?” “What do I have to hear?” Aimeric freezes. “Ma~” Suddenly, Jeremy's mother is standing in the room. Her arms akimbo. A sign that she is angry. “What do you teach our son for words?” “Oh, mon petit chou-fleur! I uh… I didn't think ‘e would listen so well.” She grabs him by the ear and pulls him up. “For today you have told enough stories.” “Are you telling dad a story now?” “Yes I will. But you sleep now, honey.” “Yes, Ma~” She bends down to her son and gives him a loving kiss on his forehead. “Good night, my child.” “Good night, Ma~ Good night, dad~” “Good night, boy…”

15 years later, Badlands 1969

“Woohooohooo!” “Can you not even keep your mouth shut for once?” “Are not you excited to work as a mercenary?” “No.” “Hey, are ya really father and son?” “Yeah, the old man is really my father. Freakin' unbelievable, isn't it?” “Hahaha! Nice to meet ya. My name is Aberdeen. I'll be the bomb specialist here.” “Cool! And who are they?” “Soldier, Pyro, Sniper und Engineer.” “Sounds as if we're complete.” “No, unfortunately not yet. Two are still missing.” “And what job do they do?” “Hey! They are there! Attention!” Soldier barks. A slender and a wider, larger man enter the room. “Hello. My name is Mr. Ludwig and I am the team doctor. This is Misha, the man for the heavy weapons.” “The Doc and the fat ass, then?” Ludwig gives Jeremy an unimpressed look. “We prefer Medic and Heavy.” Jeremy freezes. Medic and Heavy...? That cannot be... Oh, what am I thinking? Then they are Medic and Heavy. As long as these two are no German or Russian. They don't exist anyway. “You have strange accents. What state are you from?” “We don't come from America. I'm German and Heavy comes from Russia.” Jeremy freezes again. Soldier groans. “Great. A Nazi and a communist.” “Wait, wait, wait! There are no Germans or Russians at all.” Medic and Heavy exchange glances. “You told me at the time that there are none!” Aimeric lights a cigarette. “You told me!” “God dammit! You went to school for 13 years! It's not my fault if you don't payed any attention in ‘istory and geography.” “Hahahaa! Did ya really believe that, lad? Do ya believe in Santa Claus?” “Well… yes.” The team laughs at the freshly baked scout. He turned to his father. “You told me nothing but lies!” “I did that because you were still a child. As you grow older, you learn automatically what is real and what fiction. It’s not my fault that my son is an airhead.” Scout growled angrily and then rushed to the Russian without warning. He jumps to his chest and takes him by the scruff of his neck. “How did you survive the explosion?” “I can ‘ardly believe you've remembered that.” “Sure I remember! The story was so lousy that I couldn’t possibly forget it! And you two! How did you survive the explosion?” “Are you don't feeling well, boy?” Medic asks worried. “Shall I give you a sedative injection?” Injection?! “Nnnnooooo!” Scout hurriedly moved away from Heavy and Medic. “Don’t touch me, you vampire! Frankenstein! I warn you. I have energy drinks with apple flavor!” “Okay” Medic answers. “But apple juice would be better. And real apples would be more healthy.” Scout presses both hands to his head. “Argh! Fuck you, Spy!” Scout rushed off. Aimeric takes relaxed a pull on his cigarette. “I ‘ave a feeling as if today is the last day my son called me father.”