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askblog-with-the-vampire · 1 month ago

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Saddy I came back to Tumblr to see you. I'm not doing great. Tell us a story?

Welcome back, my friend. I am always glad to see, you, all of you, for you are my cherished companions on this internet.

I am sorry you are not well, but if it brings you any comfort, you are not alone. I have found myself in something of a slump since leaving New Orleans in the wake of the election last year. I have been following Lestat around, doing not much at all but sticking to his side. You know how my moods get the better of me, though I am glad to say he has discovered the patience it takes to love me at my worst, and I cannot be more thankful. He truly is my light in this eternal night.

You want a story? Mon deiu...I am not as practiced as Lestat at summoning a thousand words on a whim, but allow me to try:

It was a warm Halloween night, I think in '93 or '94. It was only a few short years after Lestat had burned my house down and I wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards him at the time but I also was in no mood to deal with Armand, so I'd retired to New Orleans, and took up residence at the Hotel Monteleone on Rue Bourbon for a few months, just to clear my head of my beloved, but, in a word, challenging, Coven of the Articulate.

I set out at sunset to walk the French Quarter, as was my custom, donning one of my old eighteenth century style coats in a concession to the holiday. I have never been creative about Halloween, friends. I am ALWAYS a vampire. I was not yet as practiced in the little drink as I am today, so I was saving my hunting for down by the water, where any evidence of my drinking would look like a drunk who fell in the river and drowned, so I was not walking with much of a purpose, just enjoying the anonymity of a crowd, when out of the corner of my I spotted man with shoulder length blonde hair, in a blue and silver eighteenth century suit, his arms flailing about dramatically as he spoke, lace cuffs trailing. I nearly did a double take.

It was not Lestat. Just a man in a Halloween costume.

But a few blocks further, I jumped again, confronted with another similarly dressed man, this time with hair that was a little too ashen, but nicely curled. He had another man on his arm, with long brown hair, in a long green frock coat.

Now, remember, friends, this was the early 90s. The aids crisis was still very much alive and well, and it was not a common site to see two men, strolling down the well populated street, arm in arm with their heads together, clearly affectionate. I expect them to draw ire, but instead, people stopped them to take their picture, on those lovely little disposable cameras we used to carry. And a few blocks later, there was another pair. A blonde in blue with a brunette in green on his arm, walking down Rue Bourbon as blatant couples in the dark, receiving nothing but adoration from the Halloween revelers.

When we reached the site of my old house, I was in shock. There were some seven more of those like-attired couples gathered at my old address, all in obviously homosexual pairs, but that's not what drew my eye. My sight was fixated on the little girl sitting up on our front step.

She couldn't have been older than ten, and she was dressed in a beautiful little teal dress and a massive matching bonnet. In her hands she clutched a pink-clad porcelain doll and a plastic pumpkin, overflowing with candy that she was picking through with a child's intensity. And she had the most glorious mane of golden yellow curls, exploding out from beneath her bonnet. Now, my Claudia had never gotten to see ten, but had she, she'd have been the spitting image of this child.

I cannot tell you how long I stared at the little girl as she sat there, sorting candy into piles, occasionally feeding one piece to her doll or herself, but eventually, she looked up and saw me, standing across the street, and she smiled that open smile that only children can, and waved at me. I was entranced. Of course I came to her.

"Hello." She greeted me once I was close enough. "You did a really nice job on your hair."

I had no idea what she meant. But she continued to talk, not needing me to reply.

"I wanted my Papa to make me the blue dress from the end, but he said it was too hard. So I got this one. I like my hat, though! I'm Claudia!"

When she said that, my throat closed up and I froze, forgetting to conceal the preternatural stillness we are capable of. I didn't know what was going on, or where I was, I only knew I wanted to reach out and draw her to me like that could somehow bring my own little girl, who had sat on that very same step with a doll in her arms so many times, back to me.

Fortunately I was saved by the arrival of her parents, a pair of men in their mid thirties, one with shoulder length blond hair, and one in green with the most tragic long dark wig I had ever seen. The little girl lit up, and leapt up to throw herself into the arms of the man in the wig, crying out:

"Papa! Look! Another Louis!"

And that's when it dawned on me.

They were supposed to be us. That movie had come out the year previous, and all these people, these beautiful queer couples, this queer family, were gathered around my home, dressed as my family in the days when we were happy, and somehow, through the magic of that book, and Anne's enduring legacy, and now the miracle of moving pictures, my family was stalking Bourbon Street after dark once more.

#louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #lestat ask blog #lestat #ask blog #the vampire chronicles #the vampire lestat #interveiw with the vampire #loustat #the vampire claudia #louis stories

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harrenhalyuri · 5 months ago

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WIP word train!

tagged by @mathlann thank you <333

rules: for each letter of the word, share an excerpt from a wip that starts with that letter.

the word I received was WANT

W-

“When you shared your inner world with me, elantach, I saw a scar that ran across your soul like a river. A hideous, uneven scar, that would tear and bleed again with little effort.”

A-

“And you should have kept to your vows, Incubus.”

Dyrra’s hands twitched so violently that the beaker exploded.

“Archon Farkaza would have never stooped as low as to collaborate with mon-keigh, or to challenge Vect-”

“Yet here we are.” One of the clones spread his arms, gesturing to their dilapidated surroundings. “The fading glories of the Reaving Tempest.”

N-

“Neither was the other whelp, who was just as willing to cooperate with mon-keigh.”

Dyrra froze at his words. The spilled liquor, ignored, continued to drip from the table.

“You lie.”

“Do I have a reason to?” The Haemonculus’s extra appendages waved dismissively. “His inability to follow orders and lay down his life for the Arena led us here. ”

T-

“The one who calls herself your blade chased him into the forest, yet his trail was lost. If he has sought refuge with the Haemonculus…”

The Outcast trailed off, yet the conclusion was clear.

Heinrix would end his life.

Mortred did not know how to feel about that. It seemed he knew nothing beyond the lost words he had attempted to say laying on that grass, only for blood to bubble out of his mouth. Or the searing sensation of the bullet penetrating his skin. Or Marazhai’s eyes, brimming with powerless rage and humiliation-

“I felt it happen, elantach.” Yrliet began quietly. “Despite the flames surrounding us, and the distance, I felt the quarrel between you and my dark cousin. A rolling storm, dense and unyielding as the ones who rage beyond the Veil… your combined turmoil, yours and his. Until his black soul flared like a beacon. Soon after, yours began to dim.”

Next word is: CHAIN

Tagging: @ronqueesha @threeofswrds @andrigyn @eregar and anyone else who feels like participating!

#one writing tag to rule them all #tag games #the wip that has been in hiatus for 2 months now...yay...

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digi-dest-stories · 5 months ago

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based on scenario i did for fun on reddit do a imagine of a soon to be tamer who went on a eco resort with a camping and hiking area, to do a picnic with her friends who are also on a holiday at the resort; when they see something trying to snatch their picnic basket and she follow it at the forest until they see an small hidden settlement inside a cave with a waterfall and river close to it near one of the hiking trails and clearly sees not only the lil thing who tried to steal the picnic basket, a fem lopmon, but also her 2 brothers (her twin brother terriermon, and both hers and her twin bro's big half brother wizardmon) and hers and her siblings adopted middle sister (a meicoomon)

as well other digimon such as a flame wizardmon, a sorcermon, a veemon, a agumon, a gabumon, a black gatomon, a gomamon, a biyomon, a palmon, a patamon, a wormmon, a hagurumon, a lunamon, a coronamon, a muchomon, a guilmon, a pteromon, a shoeshoemon, a dorumon, a renamon, a angoramon, a jellymon, a gammamon, a gotsumon, a kotemon, a loogamon, a tsukaimon, a aruramon, and a mikemon

and all of them looked filthy, dishelveled, scared, tired and hungry like they mostly didn't eat enough for a decent meal for few days and lopmon and the others apologizes for getting the basket and because they ran away from the digital world after something awful happened to the village they used to live in there and that she, her siblings and those who are currently living in there are among the survivors of the bad digimon invasion; and y/n she feels sorry for them and decides to help as she calls her friends over and decide to take care of them and she and her friends become tamers and y/n now has lopmon and her 2 brothers and adoptive sister by her side and she takes them home with her as her friends also do the same with the digimon they decided to keep ❤️

A whole group adoption :D

The first thing that they do once they get back to the home is a bath and then food

The floor is stained with dirt and mud and muck by the end of the baths. Gotta clean it up later, but it was worth it

The mons are sitting at the table, wrapped in fluffy towels or blankets or soft pajamas, watching Tamer make food for them

Wizardmon decides to help. Tamer tries to stop him, but he insists

Soup for the soul is what they make. Or Digicore in this case, cause I'm not sure if Digimon have souls

Afterwards, they just get to relax and hang out. Play a movie, play some games, get comfortable in their new home

#digimon #terriermon #lopmon #meicoomon #wizardmon

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electrospherevaults · 1 year ago

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I Made You Breakfast

[Find other stories from the 2024 Friday Writing Challenge here]

It had been one more of those early mornings. He woke up and checked back and he saw his General still soundly asleep besides him on the pillow that they shared. Soundly was a correct word to use, he thought, because his snore could be loud enough to disturb the birds outside the window and ruin their song. Other times, their rhythms matched, and he would lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as his slow restful rumbled breathing would tickle his ear. It had not been the first time, but it had been a long time since they last could be afforded the decency of a privacy.

How ironic; now that peace reigned, they could not have been driven further apart.

The days they spent in the mud and the shrubs, on the campaign trail to save their lands, had been some of the harshest his short as of yet life had to endure. In blood and sinew, they were made enemies once upon a time, him a prince and his opponent a lieutenant. He recalled his friend, the cunning Lady Wrethella, and her army of maidens which he admired as much as he feared. Thanks to her cunning and a slight slip-up, he bested his opponent in battle. A couple nights later, a slight slip-up of his own led their lips to entangle for the first time. The night tasted like wine, and the day tasted like soot, and the embers of his friend’s home led to the dissolution of twelve years of war. They never had been enemies, they never should have been ones, but he was once a Prince of the Autumn Court of the Solarian Kingdoms. Twelve years of war, and all it took to end it was a woman vowing her revenge on the world as they knew it.

They failed to save those old mythic lands not because they did not try their best, but because the hatred of their nations ran deeper than the veins from which they all once sprouted from together.

Peace is a funny thing to listen at in the morning. The summer house was secluded, a retreat deep in the countryside that was partially owned by both of their nations and which exchanged hands every so often. It had been fifty years since Mytheria drew its last breath, and the birds of this new world chirped the same songs he had grown listening once upon a child with young ears and even younger fur and horns that longed to grow, to be as ferocious as his grandfather’s, to rival those of his brothers, to be equal in the image his father imposed on him. The father he once loved lay slain by the sword he gave her, thanks to the gates he unlocked for her willingly. In return, she had promised him a quick, clean kill.

There could have been no other way. For the world to live, Mytheria had to die. A death metaphorical and literal, manifested upon by the blood of creatures mythical and strange and real. Critters that sleep peacefully until the sun rises over the horizon, rumbling in their sleep, mumbling sweet words in languages they call their own. That night once tasted like wine. The wine tasted like bark. Last night, the celebration of his birthday which coincided with his rise as the new rightful and sole King of Kings of Solaria, they got to meet once more. He was back from the deep ends of the galaxy, hunting down the threat their enemies posed upon them. He had grown to have silver hair, and his moustache had grown longer, falling gently upon lips cracked with age.

“Maybe one day we shall dance again without the eyes of the world upon us, mon ami,” he told him amicably, his fingers lingering upon his shoulder in the hope that the lights would go out and the eyes would divert and the world would extinguish – if only for a moment. He still carried their combined scars, retraced at the end of a night they once slipped by. That bombed out fortress had a balcony that overlooked a meadow and a river, a river they once shared, where they bathed in the evening and cooked breakfast by its shores the morning after. And as his fingers left his shoulders, the nobles and the officers and all the highly esteemed creatures of the courts sought his attention. An attention so fleeting yet in such high demand; the monotony of the expectation ate his insides. He needed the escape.

Late that same night, he pulled his General to the side, behind a curtain on a room adjacent to the throne. He gave him an envelope, and a promise to see each other in three days’ time. He sealed the promise with a kiss that was so sudden and so fleeting, and he was gone again in an instant; passed by the veil to the side where their combined high societies expected better of them. A society that had separated them into a master of peace and a commander of war. Of course the General obliged; he would have been a fool and a moron to not do so. He was kind and thoughtful to every man and woman that had earned his trust, and to his beloved King he had nothing but his whole heart deposited upon the trust he assured him. In their common struggle, they learned a lot about each other. Chief among them, the once young prince discovered the delicacies of the scythian cuisine, the way the once young lieutenant enjoyed a good charred slab of meat cut on cubes on a skillet and served with sunny side-up eggs and softened onions.

He could say “I made you breakfast” but it would have still been a lie because a King does not make his own food, let alone his own bed. And yet, under the glow of the rising sun, within those golden embers of daylight, he found a reason to live. He retraced the steps he half-remembered from years past. Mytheria was gone and all that was left was peace; and peace tasted like burnt toasted bread, slightly charred slabs of meat cuts, and spilled eggs that resembled a scramble more than they did the sun. The sun itself would have to suffice outside, glowing over the meadows and the rivers this valley overlooked. The wind was crisp. He did not notice how louder the birds had been singing the songs of their homeworld. Stepping slowly with half-dazed eyes that were still heavy from sleeping in late, the General arrived to the kitchenette. His face beamed with a smile. “What did you dream about, Arckie?” he asked his King. “For I dreamed about making you breakfast again.”

#2024 Friday Stories #my writing #writing #short fiction #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers #mlm #queer writers #original work #original characters #defiler #defilerverse

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pixies-and-poets · 1 year ago

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Ogh please please please vampire!phantom with something... soft : ]

It was the early hours of the morning. The poet yawned and slid a paw under his glasses to rub his weary eyes. He hadn't been at the castle for long, and... he wasn't exactly sure what his long-term sleep schedule was going to be. Right now, in these hours, his circadian rhythm was more of a circadian cacophony.

He had once been an early riser, and it went against all of his old habits to fall asleep with the sunrise. And yet these days that's when sleep invariably came upon him... easier than sleep had ever come before, and scarcely voluntary... because, after all, that was when his Lord fed. Sleep came freely, the drowsiness rushing into him, after the world's most effective acupuncture routine had drained him of just enough of his lifeblood. And so he slept all day, and was awake and working on his writing all night, and that was that. Still, his body was getting used to the demands imposed upon it, and--

A knock on his bedchamber door awoke the writer from his musings. "My Lord? Is that you?"

"Oui, mon poète. May I enter?"

"Most happily you may," said Woodrow. But as the door opened, he continued, "You are back early, my Lord. There are hours yet before sunrise. Are you tired?"

"Ah, no, mon cœur. It's just... I had a particular desire."

Woodrow blushed, but before he worked up enough sensibility to ask what this desire was exactly, the vampire continued.

"Do you have any fear of heights?"

"Heights!" repeated the poet. "Not as such... I try to keep myself away from high places due to my ill fortune.... but no, I do not dread them naturally. In fact, I once wore stilts of my own volition..." It would be most unfortunate if he DID have this fear, he thought to himself, considering the permanent growth spurt the Fates had granted him.

The vampire, who did not know all of the writer's past, took this to mean he had extended his already unusual tallness, and laughed at the mental image. "I should have liked to see it! But, well, let us waste no more time then- there are things I'd like YOU to see. Come-" and with that he floated towards the room's large window.

Woodrow was slightly confused, as he already gazed out this window frequently. But then Lord Phan undid the latch, and cast the panes open.

Before the poet knew what was happening, he was snatched up in the vampire's grasp, held tight to his chest. His wings unfurled with a loud leathery flap, and the two of them shot out through the opening.

The wings, of course, were unnecessary for the ghost's flight, but they did help with speed... and thus they rocketed upward, towards the crescent moon. As they reached great heights at great velocity, the poet's instinct was to scream- this was a little more than a normal fear of heights would account for - but he swallowed it, and clutched at the vampire's cravat, looking downwards at the castle becoming smaller and smaller.

Soon enough the vampire stopped. The air at this height was chill and moist, and the vampire himself was no less cold, but held so tightly and protectively in his claws, the poet felt warm. And safe. He looked down at Spooky Trails as he had never seen it... rivers and creeks winding through forest, ruined abbeys and derelict villages, and Lord Phan's castle itself, with the grand stage in its courtyard and the Moon Gate further on. Even the occasional creature moved about, both corporeal and spectral, so small that he could scarcely make out their species- just that the glowing white dots were likely Boos. To those below, the Phantom would also be a barely-discernible speck, the poet effectively invisible and the vampire's glowing belly looking like just another star in the sky.

"It's beautiful from up here," said the poet in awe.

"Yes," said the vampire. "I wanted to show you my domain as I see it. The idea came to me when I was in flight. I noticed you often write about birds in your work, so... I surmised that perhaps you might enjoy the bird's eye view. Or the bat's, as it were. You are part of my world, and thus ought to see my world."

"Oh, my Lord, I... thank you."

"You are certain you aren't afraid?"

"I'm never afraid when you're here."

The vampire purred at this, and nuzzled into the poet's neck. Freeing his arms from under the Phantom's grasp, the poet loosened his own collar, starting with the ribbon that held it tight. He looked back down at the world below him, and felt the familiar sting in his neck. Perhaps it was just the intensity of the setting, the dizziness of the heights and the thinness of the air, that made the experience seem extra intense; but the vampire seemed especially amorous tonight, the little licks and the hungry suction at the poet's veins just the right amount of passion tempered by tenderness. He sighed, reaching up a hand absentmindedly to stroke the vampire's cheek and play with his hair, but soon his vision went fuzzy and his paw fell limp.

Lord Phan finished his work, and held the man in his arms tighter than ever, now barely conscious and floppy as a ragdoll. Soon he would flutter back down to the window and lay him into bed. For now he held him, supporting his head close to his own chest, feeling the warmth of the poet's body on his exterior and the even more intense heat of his freshly given blood inside him. Indeed, the satisfaction was external and internal....

He looked down at the world below. A world that recently he was seeing in a new way, illuminated and given vibrancy by the work of his favorite poet. A world that was better than he had ever known it could be.

#mario plus rabbids #mario + rabbids #alter answers #phandrow #SoH vampire AU

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ehghtyseven · 2 years ago

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Do you have recommendations for what to do and see in Pittsburgh? And is it easy to get around by bus/subway etc?

anon I’m so sorry, I started replying to this at the airport on my way home then saved it to drafts and forgot to go back and publish, oops! anyway…

ok, please bear in mind I am just a person who has visited a few times so this is in no way exhaustive, and will obviously be coloured by how easy things are to get to without a car and things I personally find interesting!

presented in no particular order…

heinz history centre & sports museum

go for a wander through the strip district

fort pitt museum & point state park

national aviary (fun on its own but would thoroughly recommend the penguin encounter as an extra)

andy warhol museum

carnegie science centre (though I just went to a specific exhibit so I don’t actually know about the museum as a whole but I liked what I visited)

walk the three rivers heritage trail along the north shore & visit the mister rogers statue (and I always enjoy walking over one or other of the three sisters bridges to get across from downtown and back afterwards)

take a trip on the inclines (duquesne is the prettiest and has the best views of the city at the top but personally I like to go up the mon - when it’s not closed that is - walk along grandview then come back down via duquesne)

point of view sculpture (just a bit further along grandview from the duquesne incline)

pittsburgh has a couple of theatres so it’s always worth checking out what’s on during your trip, and pittsburgh has some great restaurants/bars to check out too.

also, not really a “thing to do” but I will never get tired of arriving via the fort pitt tunnel when coming in from the airport and downtown just explodes in front of you as you emerge!

there are some other places I haven’t visited yet but are on my list, including the zoo & aquarium, phipps conservatory, carnegie museums of art and natural history, the frick, and randyland.

on the second question, downtown & the areas close by are very walkable but I find it is pretty easy to get around on public transport, yes. PRT now has an app (ready2ride) that includes a journey planner and live trackers (amongst other stuff), lets you buy a range of different types of pass that you then use by just scanning your phone when you get on, and which covers buses, light rail and the inclines. as someone who lives in london and is used to just tapping my phone to travel on public transport, this was way easier for me than having to think about paying fares every time and took a lot of anxiety out of using buses!

the T (light rail) is also free between downtown and the north shore - all the stops between first avenue and allegheny - which is handy! I also think it’s neat that most bus stops have a QR code you can scan for live arrivals info, which also helps you check you’re at the right stop :)

#Anonymous #answers #sorry for the delay but here are some thoughts #for whatever it’s worth #wpa #I have a fear of getting on a bus going the wrong way #bc of traffic driving on the opposite side of the road than I’m used to #so the bus stop thing soothes the anxiety lol

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incendiorum · 2 years ago

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⌜❝ 𝙸𝙸. 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙿𝙴𝙽𝚂.

the area iovita makes their home in and claims as their land in this verse is a valley. it could entirely be considered a perfectly fertile valley. enriched by volcanic soil and a wide, winding river. the flat land of the valley floor would have made a wonderful place for a town, a city, even. but instead it lays vastly empty, except for a couple villages. any farms started along the river lay half-started and then abandoned.

the river that winds across the valley floor is dubbed the snake river. lazy, wide, and prone to flooding. mountains ring the valley bowl, and the western range has an old name: mons serpens. this is the range that holds the cave iovita claims as their own. and it's a place both villages warn people away from. the evergreen forest a mile around the cave has been laid waste to several times over. not a single old growth tree still lives. the tall pines only grow greenery at the very tops, the bases of them scorched and blackened. their dead brethren are pale white and soot-marked skeletons. small, young pines grow thick and competitive at their bases. purple flowers flourish in sunlit areas, creating bright carpets of color. most people in the surrounding area know not to venture too far into the young trees, and because of it the area is filled with often-hunted wildlife, despite the fact that a predator lives in the mountain tunnels just above their heads. the only paths through are meandering game trails. the undergrowth is far too thick to go crashing about in, otherwise.

far above their cave, sheltered in a bowl in the mountains, is lake colossus. a massive, ice-cold glacial lake. to people, this signifies the last major landmark of the local dragon's territory.

iovita's cave itself is a twisting mess of chambers, snaking through the mountains they made their home. the main one is the biggest, fit for the massive bulk of their dragon form. the smaller ones are closest to the surface. modified by careful, steady hands to truly resemble a home. a bedroom, a library, a tucked away tunnel that leads to a deep hot spring for bathing. a path to the surface that exits onto a ridge where they make a garden and have planted fruit trees. they don't spend all their time in their dragon form, although they have patterns. when alone for years on end, they prefer to be large and monstrous. when with company, lasting company, they tend to prefer to look more human in appearance.

#⌜❝ 𝙸𝙸. i’m the world ender & i’m back from the grave. ⟩⟩#𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙿𝙴𝙽𝚂 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃. this little beast was nature’s own error. grew like a tree; born to spread terror. ❞ ⌟#there's no large farms or cities/towns because io is a zealous little beast who won't see their lovely valley desecrated #valid. tbh.#thus ends my location-based world building for this verse #except for like #one other thing #but this at least can mesh real nice with other's fantasy verses (?) hopefully (?)

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vandaliatraveler · 2 days ago

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I feel the need, the need for speed.

Derelict Pontiac on the Mon River Trail.

#appalachia #vandalia #west virginia #summer #mon river trail #pontiac #catalina #when cars were cars #and gas was cheap

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lodgeinsalida · 24 days ago

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Best Value Stays in Salida: Affordable Places with Local Charm

Salida, Colorado, is a hidden gem nestled in the heart of the Rockies — a place where mountain adventures meet artistic flair and friendly, small-town vibes. Whether you're visiting to explore the Arkansas River, hike the nearby trails, or stroll through the charming historic downtown, one thing is certain: you don’t have to spend a fortune to enjoy everything Salida has to offer.

This guide highlights the best value stays in Salida — places that combine affordability with character, comfort, and a genuine connection to the local community. From budget-friendly hostels to cozy inns and rustic cabins, here’s where to stay when you want to keep your wallet happy without sacrificing experience.

1. Salida Hostel

Perfect for: Solo travelers, backpackers, small groups

The Salida Hostel offers one of the most affordable and social lodging experiences in town. With a mix of shared dorms and private rooms, this cozy, community-focused hostel is ideal for budget-conscious adventurers looking to meet other travelers. Amenities include a full kitchen, bike and gear storage, free Wi-Fi, and common areas for lounging or playing games.

Its location is just a short walk from downtown Salida, making it easy to explore shops, cafes, and riverfront parks without needing a car. The hostel’s friendly vibe, local artwork, and welcoming staff give it a unique, homey charm that’s hard to beat.

2. Simple Lodge & Hostel

Perfect for: Minimalist travelers, digital nomads

Simple, clean, and affordable, Simple Lodge & Hostel lives up to its name with a focus on comfort and community. Housed in a historic building, this downtown stay offers both dorm-style beds and private rooms, along with communal spaces and a shared kitchen. Its central location puts you steps away from Salida’s galleries, restaurants, and the Arkansas River.

The relaxed, no-frills environment is ideal for travelers who want to stay connected to the local scene while keeping costs low. It’s especially great for solo travelers or remote workers looking for a quiet place to land after a day of outdoor exploration.

3. Mountain Motel

Perfect for: Couples, road-trippers, longer stays

For those who want privacy and comfort at a reasonable price, Mountain Motel offers rustic-chic cabins and studios just a short drive from downtown Salida. Each unit is uniquely decorated with vintage furniture and Western charm, providing a cozy, retreat-like atmosphere. Many rooms include kitchenettes, making it easy to cook your own meals and save even more.

Mountain Motel is also pet-friendly, making it a favorite for travelers with four-legged companions. Its peaceful setting and mountain views offer a quiet escape with great access to both nature and town.

4. Woodland Motel

Perfect for: Families, couples, outdoor enthusiasts

The Woodland Motel is another locally owned gem that offers clean, affordable lodging in a beautiful setting. With a range of room sizes and apartment-style suites, it’s a great option for families or groups looking for extra space. Many rooms include full kitchens, fireplaces, and outdoor patios with mountain views.

Located near hiking trails and hot springs, Woodland Motel makes a perfect base for day adventures, then winding down with a home-cooked dinner and a view of the stars. The staff is friendly and full of helpful recommendations, adding to the warm, welcoming feel.

5. Salida Inn & Monarch Suites

Perfect for: Road trippers, couples, short stays

Located along Highway 50, Salida Inn & Monarch Suites combines convenience with comfort. It’s one of the best-rated budget motels in the area, offering clean, updated rooms with modern touches and friendly service. Some rooms come with kitchenettes or Jacuzzi tubs — a nice bonus after a day of rafting or hiking.

There’s also a seasonal outdoor pool and picnic area, great for travelers visiting in warmer months. The location offers quick access to both downtown Salida and Monarch Mountain, making it an excellent base for year-round adventures.

Tips for Booking Affordable Stays in Salida

Book early in peak season: Summer and ski season are the busiest times. Affordable spots fill up fast, so plan ahead.

Consider weekdays: Rates are often lower Monday through Thursday, especially at hostels and motels.

Use direct booking: Some accommodations offer discounts for booking directly through their websites rather than third-party platforms.

Look for kitchen access: Having a place to prepare your own meals can save you a lot on food, especially for longer stays.

Check for group rates: If you’re traveling with friends or family, some hostels and motels offer discounts for group bookings or long stays.

Final Thoughts

Salida has mastered the art of affordable charm — offering visitors a chance to experience stunning nature, vibrant culture, and a friendly mountain-town atmosphere without overspending. Whether you're bunking in a hostel, unwinding in a vintage motel, or cozying up in a cabin, there's a stay in Salida that fits your style and your budget.

So pack your bags, plan your trip, and rest easy knowing that your Colorado adventure doesn’t have to come with a luxury price tag — just great memories and warm mountain hospitality.

#hotels in salida colorado #affordable lodging salida #salida hostel colorado

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jamesellistheartof · 1 month ago

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Wisdom Of The Ages: Book One: The Forgotten Lands ~ Original Storyline ~ Part Four

Chapter Twenty Two: The Account at the Citadel

Night. Ibelin, as chief advisor assumes authority of the city after he has no other choice but to have Myrmidon confined.

Dawn. Mathalas gathers Alexander, Ellyn, Arrigas, Aven Sul, Sallas, and Atia at the height of the citadel and relates to them the history of the Arhyn Mon, of the great war against the empire of Arinor long ago. Sallas also tells them of the grey robed riders that turned the recent battle in favour of the separatists. Mathalas tells them Sallas has agreed to an allegiance and that he can help them through the forgotten lands. He decides with agreement from Ibelin that both he and Sallas shall lead the remains of Velinor's army before the separatists can properly re-group. Then those ships that remain of their fleet, not still needed at Romula can approach from the sea. Arrigas strongly disagrees against this. He angrily advises Mathalas not to trust "a man that has abandoned all that he claimed to fight for." It also becomes clear that Aven Sul lost those closest to him at Attaran. Introduction of Harma Nightcrow. Nightcrow is one of the select few that has a great knowledge of the Loth Amnor ruins and its lands.

Mid- morning. Mathalas finds Arrigas and addresses him simply as a friend rather than an emperor and asks him for his help.

Chapter Twenty Three: The Sundering of the Company

Dawn. the small contingent led by Mathalas and Sallas heads out from the hidden city. From the height of the citadel Ibelin stares down upon them. Both Alexander and Ellyn steal glances at each other, but neither of them feels ready to say anything. The army splits at the mouth of the great pass, the majority of them to proceed by a different route. Ordered to rendezvous at the boarders of Loth Amnor in six days. Mathalas is concerned regarding possible ambushes and does not want their forces all in one place.

Mid- afternoon. The city far behind them the company reach a thin riverside trail that leads a path through a small forested valley, the river itself fast running and twenty feet below them. Mathalas's concerns become reality and suddenly a salvo of arrows shoots out from the trees. Many of his riders fall dead, a few of them into the steep dangerous drop. Mathalas calls out for the rest to find cover and return fire upon their as yet unseen enemy. The arrow ambush is short and decidedly bloody then separatist riders stampede from the forest edges and the defending soldiers are split apart.

Arrigas, Sallas and Atia find themselves forced into the forest and up the slopes as they defend against the separatist soldiers and pretty soon they are completely separated from the rest of the company. Alexander spots Callum through the fighting and spurs his horse in pursuit, a dangerous chase begins along the thin path of the trail.

Mathalas rallies his soldiers and they manage to defend against the separatists, finally turning the tide against the ambush. But before they are defeated a dying separatist stabs the emperor using a dagger, an almost mortal wound near his heart.

The chase continues furiously, fast and brutal, then Callum's horse stumbles and falls, also bringing Alexander's horse down. The horses crash into the ground and both Alexander and Callum fall from the edge of the trail down into the rapids far below.

Chapter Twenty Four: An Heir Apparent

Ellyn is horrified as Alexander and Callum briefly struggle then disappear beneath the rapids. She drags Mathalas to safety then heads toward the steep drop, but Aven Sul pulls her from it. Not all of the separatists have been defeated. Callum emerges from the rapids. Exhausted he almost slips into the river again but is found by two of his men.

Ellyn, Aven Sul, Mathalas and the rest of the company discover a trail along the low ground that leads them through the passes of high steep, craggy mountains that rise up out of large lagoons, and are always draped in a constant mist.

Alexander, injured struggles to pull himself from the rushing river, then he has to move covertly through the forested land to avoid the remaining separatist soldiers.

Arrigas, Sallas and Atia evade capture by the separatists then follow the trails of the high ground, a series of ruins and ancient bridges that pepper the height of the steep mountains.

Evening. Ellyn is devastated by Alexander's apparent death. Aven Sul comes to her and tells her "not to give up on hope just yet." She tells him that she hasn't given up, and that she has also "saved some of that hope for the others."

Night. Aven Sul secretly tells Mathalas that they are being followed. Aven then falls behind. He ambushes their pursuer, putting a dagger to his throat. Only to find that it is Alexander.

Early morning. Mathalas has set up a temporary encampment. Alexander finds Ellyn and approaches to apologise. She pre-empts him, "no apology is necessary." They should not be fighting each other. She admits that she "is glad he survived."

Mid-morning. Still recovering from his almost fatal wound at the rapids ambush Mathalas offers Alexander the role of being his successor, of emperor of Elysia. Alexander is stunned by this. He tells him that Arrigas is the rightful choice, but Mathalas tells him that "Arrigas does not require it." Mathalas also notes the heritage of Arinor in Alexander, "the blood of kings." His dreams are not simply dreams." Alexander respectively declines the offer. He is "just a soldier."

Chapter Twenty Five: Shadows of the Past

Mid-afternoon. The company, led by Nightcrow, reach a series of open grass lands, set out in step- fashion to the horizon, broken up only by twenty foot high outcrops of flat, four sided stone. Soon they pass through the ruins of a town destroyed long ago. Mathalas tells Ellyn that Nightcrow used to live here before the dark power descended upon it. Nightcrow is haunted by the ghosts of his family, the memory of his town's destruction and the fall that crippled him.

The journey for Arrigas and Sallas proves difficult, not helped by their mutual distrust. Atia finds herself caught in the middle ground. Hard rain begins to fall and the high paths turn into lethal mud slides.

Arrigas is forced to accept Sallas' help to stop Atia being swept down the steep slopes.

Chapter Twenty Six: Doubts and Ruminations

Late afternoon. They reach a series of crumbled bridges that are their only path between the slopes, the high remains of pillars and arches spotted along their length.

Atia suggests to Arrigas that from this point on he might have no choice but to trust Sallas. Though not happy about this Arrigas realises that she is right. Sallas notes that Arrigas "has an affection" for Atia. This angers Arrigas, mainly because it is near to the truth. He pointedly tells Sallas that he "cannot consider such things yet, not until this thing is finished." Sallas counters that "feelings are not something that should be considered, but acted upon."

Sunset. Nightcrow preys on Ellyn's fears about confronting her father, about the "possibility of ending his life." He suggests maybe it is not yet too late to help him, to change his path.

Twilight. Ellyn finds Alexander and ponders if her father really can be saved. Alexander tells her he believes Messias has past the point of no return and cannot be helped, no matter how they may hope for it. He cautions her that she is setting herself up for a fall if she follows this path. Feeling touched by his concern she acts upon it and kisses him passionately.

Chapter Twenty Seven: The Hill of Golgatha

Night. Atia attempts to force the issue regarding the unresolved feelings between her and Arrigas, but even though he admits to having feelings toward her he "cannot act upon them."

Dawn. Ellyn has a dream of her father falling to his death. Disturbed by this she rides out secretly from the encampment, but her departure is noted by a nearby soldier.

The soldier immediately finds Alexander and informs him. Alexander rides out alone after her despite council from Mathalas to let his riders accompany him.

Early morning. Arrigas, Sallas and Atia find themselves at a bridge that should connect two of the steep slopes but it has fallen away at the end and they might have to edge along the crumbled ledge. This bridge is larger than the proceeding bridges and is surrounded by far more ruins. Sallas refers to this place as the Hill of Golgatha.

Deep into the forest lands Ellyn has sought out a contingent of camped separatist soldiers in order to offer herself up in the hope of being brought to her father.

Moments before Arrigas, Sallas and Atia reach the crumbled part of the bridge Callum appears, two separatist soldiers at his side. The fight begins almost instantly. Sallas brings down the soldiers but is injured. Arrigas fights Callum directly. Callum pulls a dagger on him, he side steps but tragically Atia catches the blade directly in her stomach. Arrigas angrily attacks Callum, and Callum falls from the bridge. Arrigas then catches Atia as she collapses to the ground.

Alexander catches up to Ellyn and attempts to stop her but before he can dissuade her they are both discovered and surrounded. Alexander attempts to fight, but finds himself beaten and closed in by a circle of shields. Horrified Ellyn realises she has inadvertently betrayed him.

Sallas pulls himself up from the ground then silently stands behind Arrigas. Arrigas is knelt, cradling Atia's bleeding body in his arms. Soon she gives her last breath and dies.

Chapter Twenty Eight: A Promise Kept

Twilight. Arrigas and Sallas bury Atia's body at the height of the Hill of Golgatha. Sallas gives Arrigas time alone. Stood at the graveside Arrigas tells her he "is sorry... for everything." He finally descends the slopes and Sallas tells him retribution can be found at Loth Amnor.

Early morning. The injured Callum is found by separatist soldiers and brought to Loth Amnor. Mid-morning. He is tended to in the cathedral's lower levels. He tells Lord Messias that Ellyn has accompanied Alexander and Mathalas into the forgotten lands. Messias is greatly concerned by this. It had been his hope that his daughter "could be kept from the dangers yet to come." Callum finds himself full of doubt. Disturbed by his accidental stabbing of Atia he questions the cost of everything if it means losing those that they claim to love, those they claim to fight for. Messias tells him he "sought a different path" for a long time and that he has come to accept the cost that might have to be paid.

Mathalas, Aven Sul and a small group of soldiers track the path of Alexander and Ellyn, and realise the possibility that they might have been captured. Mathalas decides that they have to continue on to Loth Amnor despite this.

Mid-afternoon. Lord Messias is knelt in meditation in his personal chamber. He is disrupted by shouts from several storeys below. He gazes down to see the contingent of separatist soldiers returning two prisoners sat atop horses. Alexander and Ellyn. In the lower levels of the cathedral Callum also observes. He meets the gaze of both Alexander and Ellyn.

Evening. Ellyn is brought before her father. She still holds the hope that she can change his path but it soon becomes clear to her that he has long passed this point. She questions why he has not left this place if his forces are so depleted. Messias then relates to her the murder and rape of a girl by an elysian soldier, and that his father had stood by and did nothing to stop it. Messias witnessed this as a young boy and promised himself he would "never be so helpless against an aggressor." He fully intends to fight Mathalas upon his arrival.

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mjonthetrack · 2 months ago

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every lifetime

Chapter 73 – “Bleu”

They’d barely turned off the main road, dust still settling behind the jeep, when Émilienne’s head snapped toward the open field on their left.

Her breath hitched.

“Horses…”

Before Adrien could even put the jeep in park, she was already unbuckling, throwing open the door, and running—barefoot, curls wild, uniform askew but forgotten. Her eyes were locked on the grazing herd like they were ghosts come to life.

And then—

“BLEU!”

The scream ripped from her throat with such force it startled the birds from the trees.

Out in the field, a black stallion’s ears twitched. The horse lifted his head sharply, nostrils flaring, as if the sound of his name tugged him out of a dream.

Adrien froze in the seat, hand gripping the wheel as he watched it all happen like something out of legend.

The stallion stared at her—really stared—then let out a piercing whinny and charged.

“Oh, fuck no—Émilienne!” Adrien started climbing out the jeep, heart thundering in panic. “That bastard's kicked me twice and nearly took my finger—”

But the black stallion didn’t strike.

He galloped full-force toward her and then—stopped. Just feet away, rearing up before dropping down into a powerful, proud bow of his head. His massive body trembled, sides heaving, but he stayed still as stone when her hands reached for him.

“Mon beau garçon,” Émilienne whispered, tears springing to her golden eyes. “My Bleu… I thought I lost you.”

The horse nuzzled her chest, whickering softly like a warhound reunited with its long-lost knight. Her fingers stroked his mane with reverent familiarity, her entire body shaking with something too deep for words. For a long moment, neither of them moved—creature and queen.

Adrien stood stunned by the fence, jaw slack. “That—that’s the horse that bit every stable hand. I tried to have him sold twice. He nearly ate the vet!”

Émilienne didn’t even glance back.

“He’s mine,” she said softly. “Born under the blood moon, by the river near the poppy fields. I picked his name when he still couldn’t stand. He’s always been mine.”

Bleu stomped the ground like he agreed. Adrien raised his brows, slowly lowering his hands from where he’d been ready to fire a warning shot in case of an equine mutiny.

“Well, that settles it,” he muttered, leaning on the fence. “You’re definitely her.”

Émilienne turned, eyes gleaming, hair tousled, cheeks flushed. She looked radiant—completely, terrifyingly, herself.

“Adrien,” she said, smiling like it hurt, “do you think there’s a way we could keep him with us?”

He looked at the 1,200-pound storm of muscle and hoof and probable felony charges…and sighed.

“For you?” he said. “We’ll build him his own damn throne.”

Bleu snorted, approving.

Chapter 74 – “The Treasure of the Dauphine”

They hadn’t even made it back to the house when Émilienne halted so abruptly that Bleu nearly collided into her.

“Oh!” she gasped, her whole face lighting up. Her eyes locked on an ancient, broad tree standing tall just beyond the sloping hill, its trunk marked with an odd carving—an elegant swirl ending in a crown, barely visible beneath the moss.

She dropped the reins. “Oh, mon Dieu— Adrien, this—this is still France!”

“Wait, what?” Adrien blinked, caught between confusion and concern as she ran off, shouting like she’d just spotted heaven.

Without another word, she snatched a shovel leaning by a worn shed and bolted toward the tree. Bleu, ever her shadow, trotted close behind her like a hound summoned to an ancient rite. Adrien was left trailing, winded and bewildered.

Émilienne hit the base of the tree and immediately began digging, hands fast and practiced like she’d done this before. Her uniform sleeves bunched up, her curls bouncing with every movement, dirt flying.

“Émilienne, love, what in God’s name are you—”

Thunk.

She froze, eyes wide. Then she dropped to her knees, brushing soil away with the delicacy of an archaeologist unearthing a pharaoh’s tomb.

With a heave, she pulled out a small iron box—weathered and old, but still locked tight with a gilded latch. Her fingers worked the mechanism with eerie familiarity.

Click.

“There you are,” she whispered, lifting the lid.

Inside: nestled in faded velvet, a pair of oversized sapphire earrings glittered like twin oceans. The gems were absurdly grand—clearly royal. She grinned and slipped them on without hesitation. Her entire face lit up with a kind of triumph, a radiant claim to something long lost.

Beneath the earrings lay a delicate silk scarf—blue, cream, and threaded with tiny golden fleurs-de-lis. She wrapped it lovingly around her curls, tying it into a soft bow at her nape.

“I used to come here in the summers,” she murmured as Adrien reached her side, stunned into silence. “When I was a young Dauphine. Before my brother got slippery and the court turned cold.”

She smiled to herself, eyes misting. “I’d bury things here when my maid wasn’t looking. I used to believe pirates were going to come snatch me one day—so I hid my treasures from them. Little me with big dreams.”

Adrien crouched beside her, taking in the sight—his wife, eyes golden again, grinning like a child who found magic in her backyard.

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

She turned to him, eyes sharp with memory and sparkle. “No,” she said, tucking the scarf like a crown, “I’m unforgettable.”

Bleu neighed softly, like punctuation.

Chapter 75 – “Pirate’s Memory”

Adrien had barely blinked, still half-frozen by the sight of Émilienne pulling sapphire heirlooms from the earth, when she suddenly stiffened. Her head tilted, her eyes distant—calculating, as if she were consulting an invisible compass only she could feel.

“Twenty paces east,” she murmured to herself.

“Wait—what are you—”

She moved, barefoot across the field, her scarf catching the wind like a banner of an old empire. “Forty north,” she said under her breath, each step firm and purposeful.

Adrien trailed behind her now, his mouth parting, brow furrowed.

“Fifteen west.”

She came to a halt.

Without another word, she plunged the shovel back into the dirt and started digging again, fervent, focused, like something in her bones knew this land, this moment. Like the very air carried whispers from her childhood.

Minutes passed. Sweat slicked her brow. Her arms trembled. Adrien tried to take the shovel at one point, but she slapped his hand away with a huff and a sharp, “This one’s mine!”

Then—thunk.

Her entire face lit up, and she let out a squeal of delight, bouncing on her heels like a schoolgirl about to open birthday presents.

“Come on, come on, blasted thing!” she grunted, scooping away earth with her hands now, uncovering the rough shape of something large and tightly bundled.

A muslin bag. Thick, old, damp but still intact. She grabbed the top, tugged, grunted. It barely budged.

“Stubborn!” she growled, yanking harder until—

Thud! She fell flat on her ass, a puff of dust rising up around her with a shocked “oof!”

Adrien blinked, laughing under his breath as he moved to help her, only to pause as she opened the bag and froze. Her hands hovered over the contents, her entire body going still like she’d found something holy.

Adrien stepped forward and looked inside.

Not clothes.

Not jewels.

Not even childhood trinkets.

Gold.

Bars of gold.

Dozens. Maybe more.

He stared, slack-jawed, as the light caught them—real, solid, glimmering bars stamped with ancient crests and serials.

“…Holy hell.”

Émilienne, still on the ground, looked up at him with that feral grin. “See? I told you pirates were going to come for me. So I buried their damn loot before they could.”

“You were, like, ten?”

She shrugged, smug and radiant. “A very clever ten.”

Adrien let out a low whistle, crouching beside her, lifting one of the heavy bars with reverent awe. “This is enough to buy… hell, France.”

She leaned back, sprawled in the grass with gold and dirt and history clinging to her skin like war paint. “Then maybe I’ll buy back my throne,” she purred. “Or a very, very fast car.”

Adrien glanced over at her, a crooked smile forming. “We really are a pair of cursed royal bastards, aren’t we?”

She grinned wider, golden eyes gleaming. “No, mon roi. We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.”

Chapter 76 – “Silk, Satin, and Schemes”

Émilienne’s face glowed as she crouched beside the bag of gold, scooping a few bars up and letting them fall back into place with a soft clink. Her curls, wild from wind and digging, bounced with every motion. She looked like a sun-kissed pirate queen who had just reclaimed her empire.

“Oh, this is marvelous!” she chirped, standing abruptly and brushing dirt from her thighs. “I must get my things immediately. We can have something much nicer built here. Yes, I want marble floors and a wraparound veranda. That hill over there—perfect for a garden.”

Adrien blinked, still adjusting to the fact that they had just unearthed enough wealth to tilt economies, and she was already planning drapery and landscaping.

She looked around, hands on her hips. “Where do the modists stay around here?” she asked seriously, turning back to him. “I’m thinking silk gowns. Yes. Maybe in emerald and that dusty mauve shade you like. Oh! And satin panties—ones with cute bows.”

Adrien choked, mid-sip of the water canteen he’d just pulled from his bag. “You—what?”

She smirked and winked. “I’ve lived lifetimes in corsets and bloody petticoats. I refuse to suffer again. If I must remain in this ridiculous postmodern world, then I demand comfort. But I also demand style.”

He ran a hand through his hair, still stunned. “You just dug up a king’s ransom in gold and your first concern is—”

“Underwear,” she interrupted sweetly, tossing a wink. “And silk. And a villa. I’m not unreasonable, Adrien. But a Queen must have standards.”

He exhaled, shaking his head with a chuckle. “God, I missed you.”

She moved to him, threading her arms around his waist with a smug little tilt to her chin. “You should. I’m glorious. And now I’m filthy rich again.”

“Correction,” he murmured, brushing a curl off her cheek, “we’re filthy rich again.”

She melted just a little at that, lips parting. “Then let’s go find your mare, your maps, and my panties. We’ve got an empire to build.”

Chapter 77 – “The Vault and the Veil”

They arrived at the quiet provincial bank just past midday, the sun high and merciless above them, a far cry from the regal carriage entrances of Versailles. Adrien’s arm stayed firm around Émilienne’s waist as they entered, the modest building swallowing them in its cool, dusty hush.

The muslin bag slung over Adrien’s shoulder looked deceptively casual… for something holding gold bars.

Émilienne eyed the polished counters and lacquered brass with sharp interest, adjusting the scarf over her curls and lifting her chin. “It will do,” she muttered, sweeping in like she owned the place—which, given the weight of gold they carried, might now be true.

A man in his fifties sat behind the counter, tidy, balding, pen poised over paperwork. He looked up. Paused. Blinked once. Twice.

Émilienne’s eyes narrowed. Her lips parted. “General Moreau?!”

The name cracked like a whip in the silent room.

The man’s eyes flickered wide, and for a second—just a second—there was a violent flicker of memory behind his gaze. His face paled. His pen clattered from his hand as he shot to his feet, knocking over a small inkwell.

Then, as if his soul recognized her before his body did, he lunged from behind the counter.

“Mon Reine!” he gasped, voice hoarse with reverence, falling to one knee.

The bank fell into stunned silence.

Adrien blinked. “Well. That escalated.”

Émilienne didn’t speak for a moment. Her breath caught. She stared—really stared—into the kneeling man’s eyes, memories slipping into place like the soft slide of a rapier returning to its sheath.

She stepped forward slowly, her voice regal, low, and rich. “Moreau… Jean-Pierre Moreau… you were my father's right hand in the southern campaigns. You swore allegiance to the House of Valmont.”

Moreau nodded fervently, visibly shaking. “When they said you died, I—we—the loyalists, we—” He couldn’t finish.

Émilienne placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You remained loyal.”

“I—I run the books now,” he stammered. “But the vaults... they’re old. There are names etched that never left the ledgers. Yours. Your father’s. A hidden register. I kept it, I swore I would, in case…”

She smiled, and something in her eyes gleamed—not just gold, but power reclaimed. “You kept your oath.”

Adrien exchanged a slow look with her. “Well,” he said dryly, “Guess we’ve just found our royal banker.”

Émilienne gave a wicked little smirk, glancing back at him. “And our first investor.”

Moreau stood slowly, tears in his eyes, bowing low again. “My Queen, how may I serve you?”

She looked down at the bag of gold Adrien now set gently at her feet. “We’re building an empire, General. I trust you know how to fund one.”

Chapter 78 – “A General’s Oath”

Adrien didn’t speak right away.

He watched the man—General Jean-Pierre Moreau—hover just shy of Émilienne’s fingertips, trembling with a reverence so deep it bent his spine. And it struck Adrien like a match to kindling, the spark catching something old.

It wasn’t just the man’s name.

It was the eyes. The dark gray of smoke after fire. The scar behind his left ear. The way he never bowed without reaching for his sword hilt even now, long after the wars were done.

Adrien’s heart thudded, slow and thunderous, like the first roll before a battlefield charge.

“…You,” Adrien murmured, stepping closer, voice low like a prayer. “You were one of the two who rode with us at Montluel. When we breached the outer wall. When her brother’s banners burned.”

Moreau’s eyes flicked to him—and lit with recognition.

“Adrien.” His voice broke. “You survived.”

Adrien gave a dry laugh, laced with too many lives and too many lifetimes. “Apparently. Still working out the details.”

Émilienne blinked, her head tilting toward him. “You remember Montluel?”

Adrien nodded slowly. “It’s faint, like smoke on my fingers, but… yeah. You stood beside me, and he—” Adrien nodded toward Moreau— “took an arrow to the thigh and kept fighting.”

Moreau chuckled shakily. “That was a damn good shot, too.”

They all fell quiet for a moment.

The past wrapped its fingers around the present like lace caught in wind. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was sacred.

Then Émilienne exhaled, soft but sharp. “The four of us. You, me, Moreau… and Devère.”

Adrien stilled. “Devère…”

Moreau’s face darkened, old grief sliding across it like stormclouds. “Devère died before we made it to the throne room.”

Émilienne nodded once. “He took the blade meant for Adrien.”

Adrien swallowed hard. That part he didn’t remember. Not fully. But the name left a hole in his chest that felt… earned.

Moreau stepped back, composed now, eyes sharp as a soldier’s again. “Come. There are vaults beneath the bank—sealed accounts, codes passed down through ledger and blood. If you are truly who I remember… the gold is only the beginning.”

Émilienne’s eyes gleamed. “Then lead on, General.”

Adrien placed his hand at the small of her back, steady and firm. “Let’s find out what else survived.”

The three of them descended into the old stone tunnels beneath the bank, and with every step, Adrien felt something deep in his bones stirring awake.

Chapter 79 – “What Was Left for the King and Queen”

The vault creaked open like a mausoleum disturbed. It wasn’t digital. It wasn’t even electric. Moreau had pried open a set of hidden floor panels, exposed a winding staircase sealed in black iron, and lit the torches along the wall with an oil lamp.

“This isn’t listed on any bank registry,” he said. “Wasn’t meant to be. Her Majesty sealed it herself—years before the fall.”

Her Majesty.

Émilienne didn’t need the clarification. Her fingers trailed the stone as they descended, eyes soft and somber. She remembered this place. She’d ordered it built.

When they reached the final chamber, Adrien nearly stopped breathing.

The room… it wasn’t just a vault. It was a tomb of time. And it had been waiting for them.

There were at least ten large trunks—the kind bound in iron and sealed with wax crests, one of which he recognized: the sigil of House Saignon.

His father’s sigil.

Moreau moved to one of the trunks and placed his palm flat against it. “This one was delivered by the Duke of Saignon personally. He said it was to remain untouched unless the Queen or her King returned in the flesh.”

Émilienne stepped forward, kneeling. She broke the wax with her ring—her ring, recovered from the gold bag she’d hidden as a child—and opened the trunk.

She gasped.

Inside were bundles of fine silk gowns, untouched by dust or time. Rich plum, deep sapphire, burnished gold. Familiar fabrics. She touched a pale lilac one with golden threading and actually shuddered. “This… this was my coronation gown,” she whispered. “He kept it. After I vanished.”

Adrien moved beside her, lifting the matching cloak. He recognized the embroidery on the inside—his own initials sewn into the lining by Amélie’s hand.

In another trunk, golden coins, a sapphire-studded dagger, and a signet ring. The dagger was unmistakable. Adrien’s breath caught as he reached for it. “This was my father’s.”

The hilt was still warm somehow. As though the Duke had only just put it down.

Then Moreau stepped toward a smaller chest, this one carved with intricate British markings. “This one came from Windsor,” he said, voice quieter. “Your mother, Adrien.”

Adrien opened it slowly. Inside were… his things. From a life long buried under duty and denial.

His old journals, the ones he used before Whistledown ever printed her first scandal. His military epaulettes from when he was first made Commander. And tucked beneath it all—

“A crown,” Émilienne whispered, reaching out with reverent fingers.

A small gold circlet. Regal, modest, unmistakably his. The one Queen Charlotte had designed for him when he was still her son and heir… before the lie.

Adrien didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

He knelt, resting a hand on the chest, breathing it all in like he could finally see himself again.

Then Émilienne said softly, “Everything we were… has been waiting.”

Adrien met her eyes. “Then we take it all back.”

#aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre fanfic #romance #x black oc #mature fic #reincarnation fic #historical romance

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sgholidays · 2 months ago

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Why Jammu & Kashmir Should Be Your Next Holiday Destination

If you’re dreaming of snow-capped mountains, lush valleys, crystal-clear lakes, and an experience that stays with you forever, Jammu & Kashmir is the perfect destination for your next vacation. Known as “Paradise on Earth,” this northernmost region of India offers a magical blend of natural beauty, adventure, culture, and peace.

Whether you're planning a honeymoon, a family vacation, or a solo getaway, Jammu & Kashmir tour packages from SG Holidays Resorts promise an unforgettable journey.

1. Scenic Beauty Beyond Imagination

Jammu & Kashmir is a land of postcard-perfect landscapes. From the shimmering waters of Dal Lake in Srinagar to the vibrant gardens of Mughal heritage, every corner here feels like a painting. In winter, the region transforms into a snowy wonderland, while in summer, the blooming meadows of Gulmarg and Pahalgam create a colorful paradise.

2. Perfect for All Types of Travelers

Couples & Honeymooners love the romantic boat rides in shikaras and cozy stays in traditional houseboats.

Families enjoy the scenic views, pony rides, and snow adventures.

Adventure Seekers can explore trekking trails, skiing slopes, river rafting, and more.

3. Rich Cultural Experience

Jammu & Kashmir is more than just natural beauty. The region offers a rich cultural tapestry with traditional Kashmiri cuisine, handicrafts, and local music and dance. Don’t forget to shop for authentic Pashmina shawls, saffron, and dry fruits.

4. Spiritual & Heritage Attractions

The region is also home to several religious and spiritual destinations. Visit the revered Vaishno Devi Temple in Jammu or the ancient Shankaracharya Temple in Srinagar. These sites offer peace, history, and stunning views.

5. All-Season Destination

While winter snow draws travelers to ski resorts in Gulmarg, spring and summer are equally charming with tulip gardens, flowing rivers, and green meadows. Autumn adds a golden hue to the valley, making it a year-round destination.

6. Affordable and Customizable Packages

At SG Holidays Resorts, we offer affordable and customizable Jammu & Kashmir tour packages that suit your travel style and budget. From luxury stays to budget getaways, we take care of your transport, accommodations, meals, and sightseeing—ensuring a hassle-free trip.

👉 Explore our Kashmir Tour Packages Now

Final Thoughts

Jammu & Kashmir is not just a place you visit; it's a destination you feel and remember forever. Whether you're gazing at the Himalayas, sipping kahwa by the fire, or capturing snowflakes in your hands, every moment here becomes a memory.

So why wait? Make Jammu & Kashmir your next holiday destination with SG Holidays Resorts and experience true paradise.

📞 Contact SG Holidays Resorts

Call Us Call our team Mon–Fri from 9 AM to 7 PM 📱 +91 9281111733

Chat With Us Need help planning your trip? Email us anytime 📧 [email protected]

Visit Us 🏢 805B, Manjeera Majestic Commercial, Opp. JNTU, KPHB Colony, Hyderabad, Telangana, India – 500072

#Jammu Kashmir Tour Package #Kashmir Holiday Deals #Best Time to Visit Kashmir #Honeymoon in Srinagar #Gulmarg Ski Trip #Kashmir Tourism 2025

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shelbyohwx · 1 year ago

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SPC Aug 19, 2024 1300 UTC Day 1 Convective Outlook

SPC Aug 19, 2024 1300 UTC Day 1 Convective Outlook https://shelbyohwx.com/wp-content/uploads/day1otlk-16.gif"/>

SPC 1300Z Day 1 Outlook

Day 1 Convective Outlook NWS Storm Prediction Center Norman OK 0741 AM CDT Mon Aug 19 2024 Valid 191300Z - 201200Z ...THERE IS A SLIGHT RISK OF SEVERE THUNDERSTORMS FOR PORTIONS OF WESTERN INTO NORTH-CENTRAL MONTANA...EASTERN MONTANA...AND EASTERN COLORADO... ...SUMMARY... Scattered severe thunderstorms are possible across portions of Montana and eastern Colorado during the afternoon and evening. Large hail and severe gusts are the primary hazards. ...Synopsis... Water-vapor imagery this morning shows a mid- to upper-level ridge situated over the south-central High Plains northward through the northern Great Plains. A mid-level trough is over the East and a mid-level low and associated trough are over the eastern Pacific to the west of the Pacific Northwest. ...Portions of the central and northern Rockies/High Plains... Broad 40+ kt southwesterly 500 mb flow will overspread portions of the central into the northern Rockies as an impulse embedded in the West Coast mid-level trough grazes the region. Isolated to scattered thunderstorms are forecast across Montana with locally greater thunderstorm coverage forecast over western into north-central MT this afternoon and evening, and separately over portions of eastern Montana. Richer moisture is evident in morning surface analysis across eastern MT where lower 60s F surface dewpoints are present with mid 50s farther west near the I-15 corridor. Consequently, greater buoyancy is expected later this afternoon over eastern MT with 2000+ J/kg MLCAPE possible with 750-1250 J/kg farther west. Given the deep boundary layer and corresponding steep lapse rates in both areas, severe gusts are possible with the more intense cells and clusters, especially if a linear cluster can evolve near the Rocky Mtn Front and push northeastward into the High Plains. Elsewhere, isolated instances of hail/wind may accompany the stronger thunderstorms from the eastern Great Basin northward into ID/WY. ...Eastern Colorado... Moist upslope flow during peak surface heating will result in thunderstorm initiation off of the higher terrain. Surface dewpoints in the low 60s F beneath 7.5-8 C/km mid-level lapse rates will support over 2000 J/kg MLCAPE. Modest veering and strengthening of the vertical wind profile will contribute to 30-40 kts of effective bulk shear and modestly elongated hodographs. Some of the stronger multicells and transient supercells may yield a risk for large hail and severe gusts beginning mid afternoon through the early evening. ...North Carolina into the Northeast... At least scattered thunderstorms will develop amid weak vertical wind shear this afternoon ahead of a cold front. Pulse cellular and occasional multicells are the expected storm mode. Rich low-level moisture preceding the front will contribute to 1000-2000 J/kg MLCAPE, which may support a few strong, potentially damaging gusts with some of the stronger storms. ...North Florida... A couple of strong thunderstorms may develop along the trailing portion of a cold front by afternoon. Similar to the Northeast, rich low-level moisture will promote 2000-3000 J/kg MLCAPE, fostering wet downburst/strong wind gust potential with pulse single cells and multicells. ...Sabine River Valley... Ongoing clusters of weak thunderstorms moving southward on the backside of the Eastern U.S. mid-level trough will likely continue southward through the Sabine River Valley today. Although the 12 UTC Lake Charles raob is characterized as only weakly unstable, additional heating will result in moderate destabilization by midday. A localized wind-damage risk may accompany the stronger outflow surges before this activity moves into the northwest Gulf. ..Smith/Mosier.. 08/19/2024

#ohwx #OHWweather #shelbyoh

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