Tag Archive | gardener

To the Garden – a story for Patreon

After The Gardener and The Garden. Set in the midst of the Faerie Apocalypse that gives that setting its name. 

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The would-be gods came and went, and Damkina gardened.

She had not known, when she was younger, how much damage fighting caused.  The last time the gods had been here, she, too, had fought, to hold them off to banish them.

This time she did not fight.  She stood by her apprentice’s side and, with the people of the city, she built a garden.

Her boss – her former boss, she supposed, but better to think “once and future” – directed salvage teams to things that ought to be saved.  A CEO of a famous business was helping to rearrange housing so that all those refugees who asked for a place could be given it.

Today, as almost every day since they had first held off a would-be godling, a small crowd of people followed her, chanting as she had taught them.  Today, as she did every day, she had taken an hour with the strongest voices to show them how to shape the trees and plants to their wishes and not her own.

“Tempero Huamu, Qorawiyay Huamu, Aistrigh Huamu, Quipia Huamu, as Dam-kina Wishes.” Continue reading

When the Hills Quake – a story of tootplanets for Patreon

This story fits in my Toot Planet setting, although it is considerably longer than many of the “tootfics” I have written for it, a tootfic being a fiction of 500 or fewer characters. 

You can see many of those tootplanet microfics here, and the hashtag, which began with Catterfly’s planetary art, here.

That being said, here’s the story. 

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Explorer’s Log, Planet 7-3-3

(Planetary Date 4 days)

We landed harder than planned but not quite a crash, after an EMP on the way in — or something similar enough that the effects appear identical — fried every piece of electronics not in deep storage.  Landed hard but not a crash-landing; the shuttle is intact, if unflyable, and so’s the team.

The ship will be back around in five years for us, but I’m assuming that we are stranded here.  The anomalies around this planet make a lot more sense when you consider the EMP-like pulse, and I fear the ship may never find us. Continue reading

The Garden – a story of the Faerie Apocalypse for Patreon

When I posted The Gardener I was asked (and now I can’t find where, sigh) about Damkina and the apocalypse.  So here is Damkina and the apocalypse, considerably longer than I’d intended. 🙂

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The sky was black and red, and in the distance an unearthly howl echoed through the city.  But the squash would not forgive her skipping their bug treatment and the weeds in the pepper garden were unseemly.

Damkina muttered wards against bugs as she slammed her hoe into the ground with more force than was strictly necessary.  They had been here, the week before last, asking her to fight.  She had pointed at the ruins of Chicago, smoking on the television.  “That is what happens when you fight.  Like every other time.  When you have remembered how to banish them, come find me.”

They had called her last week, asking her to fight.  She had pointed to the mess they had just made of Minneapolis.  “You’re doing more harm than good.  That was no returned god that shattered their downtown, that was your warriors.  I am a gardener.   I have always been a gardener.  Leave me to my garden.” Continue reading

The Gardener, a story of Fae Apoc for Patreon

This is one of those that wandered off from the prompt, but I didn’t notice until I was done.  So have at. 🙂

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The cherry trees needed extra buds plucked and the wisteria needed trimming; the dwarf willow in the tiny garden needed to be convinced back from the bench and the tomatoes in the vegetable patch needed weeding.

Damkina was humming. If the rain held off until past noon, it would be a good day.

Gardens, like people, came and went, Damkina had long since learned, albeit in a slower, more vegetal manner.  This one was young, not even a century old yet, and the people who believed they were employing her to maintain it had no idea who she really was.

That was fine with her.  She preferred anonymity to notoriety.
Continue reading