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Malina and the Border Banners, Chapter 10 (A Story for B)

Began here.
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here.
Chapter 4 here.
Chapter 5 here.
Chapter 6 here.
Chapter 7 here.
Chapter 8 here.
Chapter 9 here.

 

There was a sand-cat in Malina’s lap, and he was purring. 

Weirder things had happened by far; if anything, the fact that there was a purring cat in her lap was made even stranger by how normal it was, compared to everything else that had happened to Malina in the last few hours. 

The fact that he was sitting there, purring, while she sat in the Queen’s chambers of an abandoned castle in the middle of the desert, just after telling her that she would learn to do magic, that made it even odder. Continue reading

Upstairs/Downstairs, Chapter 1 (a teaser?): Andal

I just have not been writing much since this whole thing blew up, like… maybe 1/4, 1/8 of what I was writing before.  And that was like 2/3 at the most of what I was writing before hand, thanks to an unhealthy February.

All that to say, well, I am running out of buffer on everything, as you may have noticed from the lack of Purchase Negotiation since 3/14.  That’s just all I have written on the poor guy. 

So in the meantime, here’s a bit of something I’ve been working on that hasn’t quite made the 10,000-word buffer to start posting. 

It’s set in Tír na Cali, so the setting warnings for that setting apply: Slavery, institutionalized and accepted. Kidnapping, Stockholm.  In addition, suggestions of abuse. 

Cheers?  Cheers. 

(I don’t remember when I scheduled this but Somehow I put it for 5/2 instead of whatever I meant to put it at – probably 4/2, looking at things.)

Andal

Continue reading

Saving the Cult (if not the World), Chapter Sixteen

Saving the Cult (If not the World) "It's time." Manfield Lee knew he was good at sounding authoritative even when he didn't know what he was talking about - he'd turned a fortune into a megafortune doing just that, after all, not to mention running the Organization - but right now, he DID know what he was talking about. After all, it was just a date, wasn't it? And if the date turned out to be wrong, well, then he knew exactly what to blame it on, and that blame would fall on the scholars and the psychics, not on him. The other thing Manfield Lee knew how to do was to place the blame in very specific ways that were not him.

“There’s no way.”  All of Ethan’s stings seemed to have been cut.  “We can’t make it, we won’t.”

“We’re not.” Jackson looked at Lina, jaw set, expression serious.. “Okay, you’ve gotten some food in you, that’s a good start. Dylan, you gotta go way over to that side of the parking lot. Ethan, over there. And we need someone else, we’re gonna need more power. Are you ready?”

Lina blinked.  She blinked again.  “Ready?” She swallowed hard.  The power plant… “Ready to stop – what a nuclear explosion?”

“The power plant’s not nuclear. It’s – ah, I promise I’ll explain later. But here. Get the forcefield started with those two, and once it’s visible, I’ll see if I can get some more people in. If I can’t, I’ll be right back here. I promise.” Continue reading

They Had A Plan

Content warning: this is set in my Planners setting (a very large organized family of preppers) and involves the current pandemic situation

~*~

The Family had a plan for nearly everything, and they created at least two new plans every year. 

 They had a plan for this.

Small catastrophes – something that was small by the Family’s gauge at least – they were more than set to deal with without barely blinking.  They did their normal grocery shopping, did their normal gardening, and when the orders came to minimize social contact, those few family members who weren’t comfortably set up to work-from-home were quickly set up to do so.  Cases were Family were furloughed – some jobs you just can’t do home – there was a Family emergency fund to support them, or, in many cases, there was something for them to do. 

An organization like the Family always had work that needed to be done.  Considering the bad experiences they’d had a time or two with outsiders who came to work for them and then wrote or recorded a tell-all- some lies, some truth, and some truth as badly skewed as possible – the family preferred to keep those jobs close, preferring Family and Friends-of-Family for everything possible.  

So they, as a family, and as individuals, were set. Continue reading

Malina and the Border Banners, Chapter 9 (A Story for B)

Began here.
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here.
Chapter 4 here.
Chapter 5 here.

The Princess of the very long name and her adviser, the sand cat who had offered no name, sat together, finishing a dinner of small fruits and cheeses for her and meats for him. 

Only as she had nibbled up the last fruit did Malina think to ask.  “This place is abandoned. The sand leaks in the gates, pours over the walls. It’s been empty a long time.  So where does the food come from?” She looked at her plate, wondering if it were some strange sort of oasis-illusion. 

“Where does the food come from?”:

Continue reading

The Masks of the Eshadra

The Eshadra had been wearing masks long before the Empire had discovered them.

At first (for a long time, actually), the Empire, or at least the Imperial would-be scholars1 who attempted to treat with the Eshadra2  believed that the masks were simply a guard against the weather.  After all, the Eshadra lived in a cold, dry climate which was unbearable on the naked face and would quickly rip ones lungs to pieces without some sort of filter; in this weather, the Imperial explorers gladly took the gifted face-masked, lined with the softest fur, and did not ask too many questions.

Of course, in that time and in that place, they were not inclined to ask questions as much as they were to make assumptions anyway.  The Eshadra greeted Imperial people only in the small front room of their houses – houses which Imperial people first thought were that small, little huts built into mountainsides.  When they realized the huts were only the fronts of the home, they assumed that the Eshadra cloistered their women.

When they realized a few of the Eshadra they’d been talking to were women, they assumed then that the Eshadra cloistered some women. Perhaps there was an exception for certain trades?  By this point, there were certain trades that the Empire, if not all its client components, had declared were to be open to people no matter their gender or rank.

Meanwhile, they had studied the form of the masks, the style of them, and realized that there were patterns of beading on the outside, or fur trim, or embroidery, or all three.  They asked what the decorations meant, belatedly, but because they did not understand the answer, they assumed it was superstition and chalked it up as such.

One particularly interested scholar, who was unnoted in their own time but later considered remarkable, asked more questions.

The scarf, ah, the fleoioa-

ffle-e-o-ioa-a, the guide corrected.  Helloanei was, according to this scholar – we will call them by the name the Olleaiaelloa gave them here, Loearanni3, the-story-bringer – not only a willing guide and very quick to pick up both Imperial Standard and (as the Imperial folks learned later than they expected), several of the home-tongues, Helloanei was also an attractive and clever young woman and an amazing hunter. 

Ffle-e-o-ioa.  This wards off demons.  The ice?

The ice is one demon.  See here, these lines here.  If I need to take a mask, this mask tells me it protects me the most from cold.  But if I am sick, this mask here, it keeps the sickness demons from bothering others.  And this one, if I visit a sick relative, see?

they all have a similar central pattern.

ah, well.  Here, Loearanni’s notes tell that Helloanei laughed.  Well, when one is covered head-tip to toe-tips, those tell people who one is.

Ah.  What do ours say?

yours, yours says Lo-e-ar-ran-ni, that is, story-bringer.  The others,. and here she giggled.  One can tell from Loearanni’s notes that already the Imperial scholar was smitten.  The others, they all say ‘stupid stranger’.  That tells us that we should make sure they stay away from steep cliffs and wild dogs and not let them go into the desert alone.

Her, Loearanni’s notes say “I did my best in Helloanei’s language to thank her for her care to my idiot kinfolk.”

Loearanni was the first, as far as we can tell, to connect the Eshadran demons to then-speculative theories on disease transmission.   Loearanni was also the first to be able to document the ceremony with which an Eshadran removed their face mask.

For many years, Loearanni was called a liar, among less kind things – because the notes on this said when Helloaneei began to remove her mask, she explained matters to me which are secrets in the Olleaiaelloa and in the Hafeallo as well. I will not relay these secrets, but I will say: if an Olleaiaello-eh-a takes off their mask for you, take it very, very seriously indeed.  There is no more serious thing for their people.

It would have done the whole world a great deal of good if more in the Empire had heeded this.  Less than a century later, the Empire found itself in a tricky situation when an Emperor demanded that the Eshadran envoy remove his mask in the presence of the Emperor.

Due to some careful verbal footwork by the translator, seeking to avoid offence, the Eshadran envoy took this as a request, which led to the envoy believing the Emperor had just proposed marriage.

And ever since, the Eshadra have been part of the Empire.


1 The scholars of this point were not the Informers.  The Informers were already a nascent organization, but they would not reach the Eshadra for many years yet.

2 from a word in the home language of one of those scholars, which referred to mythical ice demons; they called themselves the Olleaiaelloa.

3 While the reasons for such will not be clear here, we can state this one: that this is the name that Loearanni themselves preferred in later days.


This story brought to you by:

Current events, gasp

Listening to Today I Found Out, something about Miasma Theory, and something similar (it all sort of merges togther)

The Inuit, although not directly.  

Saving the Cult (if not the World), Chapter Fifteen

Saving the Cult (If not the World) "It's time." Manfield Lee knew he was good at sounding authoritative even when he didn't know what he was talking about - he'd turned a fortune into a megafortune doing just that, after all, not to mention running the Organization - but right now, he DID know what he was talking about. After all, it was just a date, wasn't it? And if the date turned out to be wrong, well, then he knew exactly what to blame it on, and that blame would fall on the scholars and the psychics, not on him. The other thing Manfield Lee knew how to do was to place the blame in very specific ways that were not him.

Grocery shopping was not, in theory, a novel sort of thing.  Lina did it every second week for the family back home. 

But when she was doing so with three rich boys who had never had to do that sort of thing – “Why not just have a grocery service?” – it turned into an adventure. 

It helped, or possibly made things worse, that it being late at night, they were nearly the only people in the store.  It helped that they were actually buying things, although Lina’s mental list appeared to confuse everyone but Jackson, who actually knew how to cook. 

“So why are we shopping again?” Dylan asked, when the cart was half-full.  “I mean – there’s already food up there.”

“But is it good food?  Also, I want to make pizza.”

“Make?  Make pizza?”  Continue reading

Malina and the Border Banners, Chapter 8 (A Story for B)

Began here.
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here.
Chapter 4 here.
Chapter 5 here.

It had been a long day for Malina Serafina Anastazja Dominika Naveed Jeleń nic Cecília O Alexandre, a long day now exacerbated by a very long hallway. The sand-cat walked at her side; a little fish sprite hopped in front of her in mid-air. 

She opened one more door to find one more, albeit short, hallway; Malina very nearly screamed.  Her feet WERE screaming.

“In the times when this was a fully-occupied castle,” the cat informed her, “These passages would have had guards at all times. The Queen needed her private time.”

“It must have taken her all day just to get there,” Malina muttered.  Continue reading

Saving the Cult (if not the World), Chapter Fourteen

Saving the Cult (If not the World) "It's time." Manfield Lee knew he was good at sounding authoritative even when he didn't know what he was talking about - he'd turned a fortune into a megafortune doing just that, after all, not to mention running the Organization - but right now, he DID know what he was talking about. After all, it was just a date, wasn't it? And if the date turned out to be wrong, well, then he knew exactly what to blame it on, and that blame would fall on the scholars and the psychics, not on him. The other thing Manfield Lee knew how to do was to place the blame in very specific ways that were not him.

There was one of the white-robed security people watching the exit into the parking lot, but he looked distracted and it wasn’t even hard to sneak around him.

Once they were in the lot, it was easy enough to put a couple SUVs in the line of sight between them and the security-cultist, and then it was a straight walk out of the park.

It was later than Lina had realized; most of the houses outside the park had their lights off. They were small houses, well-up-kept — sort of like cottages, but with the feeling that they were lived in year-round.

“The prophecy,” Lina asked Jackson. “It’s just the top of the hill, right? Because if it was all of this, our parents would have bought this all up and built houses here.”

“They keep trying to buy the park,” Dylan offered. “My dad, Ethan’s mom, I think your dad. But the city won’t sell it.”

“The impression given has been a little fuzzy,” Jackson added in. his lips were d he looked like he was reading off an invisible book somewhere in front of him. Lina took his arm so he didn’t wander off the side of the road. “Most of the prophecies seem to suggest a small area — the park, that sort of thing — but a few could mean the whole hill. It’s not a great school district here—”

“Like any of us go to public school,” Ethan scoffed. The further they got away from the campground, the less worried he seemed to be. Lina wondered if they should just run away.

Of course, if the top of the hill was really the only place safe from the end of the world, running away wouldn’t be a good idea. Continue reading

Malina and the Border Banners, Chapter 7 (A Story for B)

Began here.
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here.
Chapter 4 here.
Chapter 5 here.

Malina’s feet were tired; her eyes were tired. Her head was tired. Yet she was exploring again.

The inner wall and the outer wall of the castle still appeared intact, at least in this corner. Sand drifted heavily enough in several places that Malina couldn’t see more than 1 or 2 dozen cubits in either direction from the L intersection where she stood, the corner of the castle from which the tower grew.

She was being led by a fishlike sprite that had appeared to her request – no, to her demand.

She had seen stranger things, but then again, she was being followed around an abandoned castle named for her ancestor by a talking cat.

The sprite was taking her away from the entrance she’d come in, down the branch of inner-outer wall space she hadn’t explored yet. This could be a very bad idea – but yet, the cat was following her. It seemed entirely unworried about any of this. Of course, being a cat (although she did not know the rules for sand-cats, she supposed), it would likely seem unworried by anything at all. Continue reading