There were many houses, of course, some of them large enough to be considered manors, many buildings and homes and a great number of farms and plantations – but there were seven Estates.
From East to West, the first was the home of the Leader and thus whoever lived there had the First Vote, which was most powerful. The second home was for the Head of Priests, who held the second vote. Continue reading →
New setting or one-shot, just an idea that came to mind, slightly inspired by The Exiles Trilogy and slightly by my inability to stop singing Good King Wenceslas.
“So let today hereby be named the Day of the Martyr Baloran, with all due pomp and ceremony, and let us remember this day by, hrm, bu picking up rocks from our neighbors’ fields and using them to help build the walls between fields, on my authority and honor as the leader of this colony-”
“Ah, honored one?” Gerilip did not like interrupting the Leader, but her job lead her to need to quite often. “Today is the day of the Blessed Epolitie.”
“Ah. What about Baloran’s birthday?”
“The day of the Blood-Consecrated Delfikin.”
“Ah, hrm. The day Baloran joined the Service?”
“That’s the feast of the Holy One Relian. Honored One,” Gerilip cut in, before this could get quite silly, “there is only one day left open on the calendar.” Continue reading →
She watched the pebble flow true and thunk hard against a forehead before she had time to process who was standing there. No weapons out, no Imperial insignia, not someone she knew — they looked startled and took three steps back.
She dropped her slingshot in a pouch and grabbed her longknife. “Hello.” If they had darts, they’d be going for a pouch; a wrist-dagger, they’d be shifting their wrist, a sword or blade, reaching for their back or thigh. Sher shifted her weight to her back leg and got ready to block with a wrist or an elbow if she had to.
The woman had her hand halfway to her neck when the “Hello” seemed to make her pause. With her hand still hanging in the air over her shoulder, she cleared her throat. “Hello.”
“Are you here to kill me?” The woman had the same blonde Bear-family hair as Deline, the same blue eyes and broad shoulders. Probably not a Deklegion bounty hunter, but it didn’t do to take stupid risks.
“Depends.” The woman rubbed her forehead where the rock had hit her. “Who are you?”Continue reading →
“Are you sure you know how to hunt things that aren’t people?”
Deline was teasing Carrone – mostly. They had been living in the cabin for four days, and she was beginning to get more on edge than she wanted to admit.
It was easy enough to settle in to a routine – gather and hunt in the morning, cook a big meal in the afternoon and settle in to bed in the evening. It was easy enough to pretend that they were just having a little rest stop along the way, getting to know each other. But Deline knew that they were hiding, and she knew that she had to get back to the capital, and she knew that with every day she didn’t – with every day she didn’t make it back, there was a chance that they wouldn’t make it back, and if they didn’t, her information died with her. And that wasn’t acceptable.
Red wasn’t supposed to be out on his own yet. He was supposed to be a sidekick. He was supposed to be following Blue around still, maybe cracking wise and maybe just mopping up the henchmen that got away.
But that wasn’t what he’d signed up for. That wasn’t what he’d been training until all hours of the night for, sneaking out of study hall for, spending every minute he could in the lab for. No. No, he was a meta, a shining new example of the Modern Superhero – that h Continue reading →
This is written to a prompt I encountered on Pinterest from here.
We had never come up with a cure.
Instead, we had come up with ways to deal with it. I say we, but it was my grandparents and their parents who did most of that work.
The rest of us just learned what we had to do and got on with the work of rebuilding the world. By the time I was an adult, you could barely tell that there had been a world-scarring, population-destroying mega war in my grandparents’ time.
And then, of course, the fucking aliens showed up.
They had spacefaring tech that we were only beginning to develop. They had weapons that were, frankly, amazing, and, from a biologist’s point of view, also horrifying. They had ships parked in our atmosphere.
The thing about an Imperial Bed was, even if it wasn’t exactly comfortable in an emotional sense, it was always perfectly comfortable in a physical sense. The spells that Deline used to keep her lodgings tolerable were the basis of the magic on the Imperial bed, but then there were layers and layers of other work there. One could lay here forever and not get the slightest bit uncomfortable – or at least for decades, until the spells wore off.
He could have had any man or woman in the whole nation — probably in several of the adjacent nations as well. He was a brilliant man,a dashing pirate, and his airship was one of the finest known to navy nor fleet. He was a folk hero the likes of which had not come since Dywin Talizen in the age of stories and myths.
And his airship had ducked in, dodging the royal navy ships and the cannons, to visit a political prisoner in a quiet exile in a mountainous corner. He had brought her a rose, the sort of gift that fit the stories, risking everything for a romantic gesture.
He couldn’t stay long; he couldn’t even risk a kiss, even if she would have accepted it. But he brought her a rose.