#c.e young

[thatpunkmaximoff]

Story: 4 out of 5 Smut: 0 out of 5

I’m sorry, but where is the hype for this book, people? Did it have some spelling/grammar mistakes? Yes. Did it distract from the story? Absolutely NOT.

When I tell you I am obsessed with these characters, I mean it. I started this book yesterday evening (10.8) and finished it this afternoon (10.9).

The author pulled me in with the promises of a dark retelling of a childhood fairytale favorite, and I was sucked further in with the detailing and story. Briar and Casimir have my heart right now, y’all.

There’s heartbreak and joy and laughter… and I really wish there’d been a Beauty and the Beast film made from this book. It’s everything an adult would love.

Now here are my rambling thoughts…

* Dagan’s a dick. I can’t wait until he gets his ass kicked.

* Papa Hart also seems dick-ish. Where’d our lovable papa go 😂

* Fuck you, Dagan! Papa Hart did NOT say yes to your proposal for his daughter’s hand.

* Dagan is a slimy bastard, using papa Hart’s disappearance as an excuse to get close to Briar. Open your eyes, B!

* You stupid girl! Why would you agree to marry him?! This sincerity is all just a farce!

* Oh hell. He commented on her weight? Nope. Walk out. Dump his ass.

* I knew Dagan was still a dick! Wtf did he do that he had a bloody knife?

* Please tell me that Papa Hart is merely injured and that they didn’t kill him 😔

* Runaway bride! Thank god.

* They fucking stabbed Papa Hart!? And “the beast” possibly saved him…?

* She made it to the castle 😏

* Aww. She met a pixie from the Fae realm and just accepted the dinner invite from their “master” 🤗

* Casimir might be the beast in this story, but he doesn’t seem so beastly. I’m already in love 😂

* She saw him change! Omg. I feel for both of them.

* “Until my pain you share, shall this curse you bear.” — Nooooo. I already know what has to happen and I DONT WANT IT!

* Awww. She hurt Casimir’s feelings by leaving in the middle of the night. Thankfully he found her in time. I forgot all about the wolf attack.

* They’re so fucking cute.

* Oh no. Her father did die 😔 and Casimir had him buried the others from the castle.

* No! Dagan found her. Fuck this dude. Someone throw him into a river!

* I just want Briar and Casimir to reunite already.

* “Until my pain you share, shall this curse you bear! Screams of fear are all you will hear. Forever alone you shall be, until you find the one who can truly set you free.”

* Home. She’s home!

* Did he really fucking kill her!?!?

* Serves Dagan right. I’m so glad his head was torn from his body.

* The Fae King brought her back 😭 She broke the curse 😭 Oh my god… my babies are safe 😭😭😭😭

[literallyjusttoa]

I have fully reworked and redesigned my Apollo timeline!! These designs are meant to depict Apollo from 2591 B.C.E all the way to 392 C.E., so a good 2,983 years of life lol. A lot of things have changed from my first and second versions of this timeline (which you can see here and here if you're interested) so I'm just gonna rewrite the whole things here for y'all to read and enjoy! (Also disclaimer as always I am not a mythology expert, and I am taking some liberties with dates and time periods so sorry if anything seems off!)

Baby: 2591 B.C.E

Apollo is born. That's pretty much all that happens here.

Fighting Python/Exile: 2591-2582 B.C.E.

Right after being born, Apollo goes off to fight Python. After this, he is exiled from Olympus for nine years due to his crime of committing murder. During those nine years, he spends most of his time as either a shepherd or a traveling musician, and observes mortals and their ways of life a lot.

Pre-First Punishment: 2582-2300 B.C.E.

After his exile, Apollo is allowed to ascend to Olympus. He takes on a form that is extremely similar to the mortals he's been living amongst for the past nine years. As the youngest member of the Olympian Council, Apollo is slightly naive, but desperate to prove himself to the rest of his family. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo finds and mentors Chiron 2. Artemis and Apollo successfully convince their father to release Prometheus from his punishment. 3. Periphas, a king of Attica and priest of Apollo, was so beloved by his people that they honored him above Zeus. This angered Zeus, and he sword he would strike Periphas down and burn his home to the ground. However, Apollo begged Zeus to spare Periphas' life, and Zeus acquiesced. Instead, Zeus turned Periphas into an eagle, the same eagle that now rests on the top of his sacred sceptre.

Post-First Punishment (Troy): 2300-1250 B.C.E.

Back from his time as a mortal, Apollo is now the patron god of the city of Troy. He is extremely attached to his people, and has taken on a lot of their fashions and customs. He is a bit more reserved on Olympus because of the punishment, but he is still young and sure of himself, and is often one of the most active gods on the council. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Hermes is born. 2. The music duel with Marsyas occurs, and he is flayn. 3. Lots of cities are founded on the west coast of Ionia (Modern day Türkiye), many with myths surrounding Apollo. The city of Miletus was founded and named after a son of Apollo. Klazomenai claimed Apollo as their principal god. The city of Colophon becomes the seat of the Oracle of Apollo Clarius, and one of his sons, named Mopsus, lives there. Erythraea is also connected to Apollo's oracle, as it is the birthplace of Herophile. Once you add Troy to the mix, it seems as if Apollo just did a tour of Ionia and set up a bunch of towns along the way, which I think is pretty cool. 4. The seven against Thebes make their march to restore Polynices, Oedipus' son, to the throne. One of the seven, Amphiaraus, was a seer and favored by Apollo (and sometimes his son!). Amphiaraus was fated to die in battle, but Apollo found multiple ways to stretch out his final moments. He redirected attacks so that Amphiaraus was not harmed, and when the man's charioteer was killed, Apollo took the reins himself. When Amphiaraus finally passed on, Apollo wept over his corpse and let him be consumed by the earth, creating an Oracle at that spot.

Asclepius: 1250-1210 B.C.E.

Asclepius is born and Apollo keeps the same look throughout his entire life! Apollo doesn't have much to do with it, but the Argonauts set sail during this time.

Stealing the bolt/Killing the Cyclops: 1210 B.C.E.

This design only lasts a couple of weeks. In his grief, Apollo loses himself.

Second Punishment 1210 B.C.E

Apollo is given to Admetus as a servant for several months. The punishment doesn't last long, but Apollo's time with Admetus is essential in his journey to heal from Asclepius' death.

Trojan War: 1194-1184 B.C.E.

The Trojan War breaks out less than 20 years after Asclepius' death, bringing ruins and carnage with it. Apollo fulfills his duty as the patron god of the city, and viciously protects Troy from the attacks of other Olympians.

Post-Trojan: 1184-940 B.C.E.

The war was lost, and Troy was sacked. In the time following this, Apollo distances himself from mortals, desperate to escape the pain and grief of the last 70 years. This period of his life ends with the myth of Daphne. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus is born 2. Apollo saves Hemithea and her sister Parthenos and makes them immortal. 3. Apollo's oldest known temple is built in Thebes.

Daphne and Hyacinthus 940-776 B.C.E.

After the death of Daphne, Apollo is devastated. While he had been avoiding the mortal realm before, now he became increasingly uncomfortable on Olympus. He stayed in the mortal realm often, building up his reputation and setting up his popularity in Ancient Greece proper, which was just breaking out of the Dark Ages. Near the end of this period, he loves and loses Hyacinthus. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The cult of Apollo from Crete brings his worship to Delphi officially, and his temple is built at the site. 2. Apollo's music duel with Pan occurs.

“Main” Apollo 776-500 B.C.E.

Starting with the first Olympic games, This period is defined by glory and worship. Apollo's popularity in Greece increases exponentially, and this is only added to once he takes the reins of the sun chariot. He meddles in mortal affairs often during this time, growing into the persona we see of him today. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Niobe's kids are killed 2. Apollo falls in love with Cyrene, and gives her a city. 3. Tarquin purchases the Sibylline books. Sometime before this, Apollo curses the Sibyl of Cumae. 4. The Pythagorean cult is established, a group that religiously followed the teachings of Pythagoras. Alongside this, they mainly worshiped Apollo at Delphi. They used math to break down music, and believed "the universe as a whole was composed of harmony and numbers". 5. Phorbas, who is either a savage king of Elis or a giant, preys on travelers on the pilgrimage to Delphi. To put a stop to this, Apollo challenges the man to a boxing match, and kills him during the fight. Another Phorbas, this one hailing from Rhodes, is often confounded with this one. Apollo dated the second Phorbas, so I bet this was very confusing for a lot of poor Greeks. 6. The city of Megara fought for independence from Corinth, and claimed Apollo as their patron god.

"Classical" Apollo 500-300 B.C.E.

As Ancient Greece moves into it's classical age, and the height of it's glory, Apollo's worship continues to grow. In the 400's, Pericles and the architects of the Acropolis in Athens used the money held by the Delian league (An allied group of islands in the Cyclades, lead by Delos) to create their temple to Athena, which held the Athena Parthenos. This, alongside many other ways in which Athens attempted to take control of the rest of Greece, caused tension in both the mortal world and Olympus. Apollo begins to see cracks in the foundations of Greece, but can not do much about it at the time. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The Peloponnesian war breaks out. It lasts 27 years, with Sparta claiming victory over Athens in the end. Olympus continues to degrade as Athena and Ares spar. 2. Shortly after this, the Theban War starts. Sparta had won the Peloponnesian war and taken Athens place as the head of Ancient Greece, but many city-states took issue with this. Both Corinth and Thebes waged war against Sparta, with Thebes being victorious in this struggle. Thebes was Dionysus' city, and Corinth, Poseidon's. The Olympian council continues to splinter. 3. Apollo's first temple in Rome is built. The Temple of Apollo Medicus was constructed outside of the religious boundary in Rome, as Apollo was still seen as a foreign deity at this time, and so his worship was not permitted in the city proper.

Late Greece (300-146 B.C.E)

Greece is falling apart at the seams, with civil wars breaking out all over the region. Rome is growing stronger to the west, and eventually takes over Greece completely at the end of this period. Apollo attempts to ignore the signs of failure, keeping up a relaxed, even as the war begins to devour Greece entirely. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus journeys to India 2. Trophonius and Agamethus are killed.

Fall of Greece: 146-32 B.C.E.

Olympus falls, and will not come back together for a while yet. With each deity lost and unfocused, they all have to find their own way back to their former glory. Apollo is one of the last to return to the council, spending centuries wandering the ruins of Greece, burying his people and mourning the culture that had been lost. It is not until Augustus brings his worship to Rome that Apollo returns to Mount Olympus.

Rome 32 B.C.E.- 140 C.E.

Apollo is now one of the chief gods in Rome. Even though he is at the same level of power and popularity that he had during the height of Greece, it doesn't feel the same. Apollo drifts, going through the motions with very little passion behind it. It takes some time for him to warm up to his new civilization, which leads to:

Late Rome 140 C.E.- 392 C.E.

As Rome continues to grow and prosper, Apollo begins to grow fond of it's people. He interacts with them far more, and begins to once again meddle in their affairs, especially when it comes to the various emperors that ruled the nation. This trend continues until the eventual end of pagan worship in Rome. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo meets, falls in love with, and eventually kills Commodus. 2. The Bacchanalia, which was a private cult festival of the Dionysian cult of Liber that was full of drinking and mingling of all social classes, becomes popular. This festival is obviously associated with Bacchus first and foremost, but there was a common rumour amongst members of the cult that you could meet Apollo at these celebrations.

And that's the whole thing! Hope you all enjoyed, this took a lot of time and research lol.

[mx-jinxous]

He was in love with a dead man.

Steve found it ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. When he was forced to find a job after his parents disowned him, the museum was the last place he’d expected to fall in love. The museum gift shop had gladly taken him in as a thank you for his family’s namesake, though Steve didn’t try to pretend interested in the way. He took the job offer, anything to pay the bills.

His current living arrangement was his car until he could save enough money back to get an apartment. Sadly with his car payment and insurance, it hardly left anything to put back, not enough to pay his phone bill for the last few months. Most days it was a toss-up for gas or food, which was going to be a harder decision with the approaching winter. Since he had to drop out of college he’d been left sneaking into the community pool to even get a shower, but soon he’d have to find other options. They started to dwindle as his friends, or rather the people who acted as such, distanced themselves when he was kicked out. He came from money and that’s all that anyone ever wanted.

His first idea was to befriend or date, but he couldn’t use them as people did to him. So he asked for more work, playing it off as expanding his knowledge and role. This led him to partner with the elderly security, who was fondly nicknamed Grey, until they could get him a trainee. Steve happily accepted it. The old man was a storyteller, even his lectures were entertaining as he drifted into stories of his kids. He often let him wander around, and that’s how he found the newest addition to the royalty wing.

They had discovered an underground burial vault, hidden beneath the remains of a castle converted into a long abandoned church. It was above Steve’s pay grade how they ever managed to acquire permission to excavate the vault. One night on his explorations the young man found the exhibit and the statue of King Kas. He ruled in the 1200 c.e., a just ruler in a conflicted era. Sadly, he existed during a blip in history, and few records have been found of his rule.

Still, the statue was handsome and mesmerizing. It was carved from marble and well cared for regardless of facing time. Surprisingly for a cold material, the eyes were warm, inviting even. It’s what kept Steve returning, making him fall. Grey had found him sometimes just talking to Kas about his problems when he came to let him out for the night. He was kind enough to offer an invite to his home whenever he needed, fatherly. He’s what he’d wished his parents were like, he cared for a boy he didn’t even know and even fed him when he didn’t have food. It was nice but also painful.

Steve spent every shift studying the statue. The king was adorned in jewelry; rings, a crown, necklaces, armlets, and bracelets filled with gemstones worth more than Steve’s parents. It only enhanced the beauty of the masterpiece, but it was truly the eyes that pulled him in. Maybe it was the dry spell in his current living situation, but he wanted to reach out and hold his face in his hands. His body was doing that on its own accord, his fingers nearly brushing its cheek when the hallway door was thrown open. Steve responded immediately, hiding behind the nearest pillar. His mind caught up with him once he was out of sight, that he and Grey were the only ones this late, still didn’t want to be caught with his hand on the exhibit.

Taking a calming breath, he stepped out and was going to give him a hard time about the scare. However, he froze when he heard more than one voice, harsh whispers echoing in the unoccupied room. Steve pressed up against the pillar, trying to be silent, trying to figure out how to alert Grey without his walkie.

So he stood there, listening to things being moved, metal clinging. “This is a goldmine. Can’t believe these idiots left it open like this, just ripe for the takin’.” A man cackled, the young man risking it to get a look at the thieves. Three of them, one stripping Kas while the other two robbed his riches.

“Shuddup. You want security up our asses?” Another snapped.

“What? That old guy probably ain’t got his hearing aid in.”

“He ain't alone dipshit. He's got that kid in here. Didn’t see him leave.” The last guy grumbled, sounding like he was struggling. “He’s not gonna be a problem. If he tries anything, I’ll show him mister pew pew.” That got Steve sweating. He needed a plan, a distraction to escape. From his vantage point, he noted the doors were close to the men, there were no windows, and the fire escape was a sprint away that gave the thieves an open shot. But the fire alarm was on the wall, parallel to him. Pulling it would alert firefighters and police, and hopefully scare the men enough to give him the opening that he needed. It was as solid as a plan he could make, but of course, he should know that life loved to make him struggle.

It came in the form of a, “Pull harder numb nuts.”, followed by a clatter. Peaking out he was met with the king's bracelet skidding past him. That’s what gave away his safe spot, the men already yelling and sprinting towards him. Steve took off, snatching the bracelet on the way to the fire alarm. He pulled it as he passed, heading towards the nearest exhibit, Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt. There were plenty of places to hide, Steve choosing the curtain that framed a standing sarcophagus.

It was sheered, easy to see through, yet nearly impossible to see in the dark museum. He gripped the bracelet, trying to quiet his breathing when the men came into the room. The alarm lights flashed and blared, however, he could hear things being thrown and smashed. There was angry yelling between the three, Steve watching the best he could through the fabric. He could make out only their silhouettes, watching in horror as they destroyed parts of history, feeling powerless. Was this how it was supposed to end, hunted and afraid? A fitting end to the last shitty months.

All he knows is that he isn’t going down without a fight. The bracelet was a decent weight and could knock someone out with a strong enough swing. He hoped it was enough as the silhouettes grew closer as Steve braced for an attack.

A scream froze the moment, now four shadows appeared on the other side of the curtain. “What the hell!” The man closest to the newcomer howled before he fell, his partner's screams echoing. Gunshots rang out causing a horrified scream to escape the young man. He fell to his knees and curled up, wanting to be as small as he could. Steve couldn’t fathom, nor did he want to attempt, the horrifying noises on the other side. There were screams and then silence.

He could only hope that the perpetrator didn’t find him- but once again life loved to beat him down. The curtain was pulled back, giving him an up-close view of the mystery man. Steve met with those warm eyes that once brought him comfort, now a sign of terror as Kas stood, marble painted in blood. He wanted to beg, to scream, but all that escaped his lips was a whimper. The statue took a step forward and the younger man fell back, trying to push himself as far away from the creature.

Not taking the hint, Kas knelt in front of him, reaching out toward him. He dropped his sword as fingers brushed against Steve’s cheek, causing him to flinch at the cold stone. It was silent between the two, aside from the blaring alarm, leaving them staring at one another. Pulling back his hand, Kas scooped the young man up without warning. A squeak escaped him, fear keeping his mouth bound as he was carried through the blood-drenched room to the king's exhibit. There he was gently sitting on the edge of the stone coffin that had been cracked open to show the interior. The body had been removed before the exhibit had opened so there was no fear of a zombie popping up. Just Steve and Stone Kas.

Steve was balancing himself the best he could while stone eyes studied up and down his body. They stopped on the bracelet still gripped in his hands, causing him to fumble trying to hold it up to the marble man.

“H-Here! I-I didn’t mean to take it, but I kept it safe. See, no damage.” He shook as the statue took the bracelet, examining it closely. Steve sat there, just waiting until Kas saw fit that the bracelet was fine. He hesitated with any noise or movement, not wanting to earn the creature's ire. He wished to disappear, to be locked behind his car doors on the other side of the country, just out of the king's sight.

Unfortunately, that wish quickly broke when Kas wrapped his hand gently around Steve’s upper arm. He watched in horror and confusion as the bracelet slid onto his wrist, giving the man his first clear look at the jewelry. It was a thick gold band with some basic designs carved in it, a bright red gem enclosed in it. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, even Kas seemed to think so as a smile came to the carved face.

“Yeah, i-it’s a lovely piece, but sadly I’m not a jewelry guy.” His nervous chuckle was cut short when the smile fell, his body tensing as it was just them in silence once more. “Please-.” He whimpered.

A sob broke free when Kas leaned in, his cold lips pressing into his forehead. “Te videre iterum, amore mea.” He whispered, pulling back enough to peer down into Steve’s eyes. Without warning he was shoved back into the coffin, the lid pulled over without a struggle.

“Shit.” He mumbled, trying to push the stone lid off to no avail. “Shit! No, no, shit!” He screamed, pounding against the marble. Panicked tears dripped down his cheeks as he kept trying to push to top off. “I- I ca-. I can’t breathe! Please let me out! Please Kas!”

There was no telling how long he was screaming for, but no one came to his rescue. The fight left him abruptly as the situation set in. He was stuck in a stone prison, running out of air, no one knowing where he went. No one would notice him missing until much later after he suffocated. This was how he was going to die, as a nobody.

Steve went to cover his face, only to be splashed with water. He sat there, horrified at the thought that he was bleeding, but no. His body was sitting in water, the coffin filling at a ridiculous rate. He no longer had to wait to suffocate, now he was going to drown long before that.

A new panicked fueled fire filled his stomach, his legs coming up to kick at the lid. He figured if water was getting in, there was a chance he wasn’t completely sealed in. His head was underwater while he kicked with all his might. Soon it started sliding with each kick, giving way to enough space for his body to squeeze through. He wasted no time, the water weighing him down as he pulled himself free.

It was dark aside from a flickering archway, his body freezing as he took a minute to catch his breath. He could tell he was no longer in the museum, the only light seeming to be the only exit. A groan escaped Steve’s lips as he pulled himself towards the light, coming to a spiral staircase that only went up. It was illuminated by torches on the wall, the only warmth in this dark room. Freedom was near, and though his body wanted to give in to rest, Steve pressed on. His body ached, each step taken with a struggling limp that made the trip feel like hours.

He nearly cried when he saw the doorway, a light illuminating the stairs. He was ready for bed, or maybe he’d try to hit Grey up for a shower to get all the death dust off of him. If he was lucky, this was all a horny-induced nightmare.

That came to head when the universe decided to remind him once more of his shit luck. When he walked out of the doorway he was greeted with a group of swords pointed at him, surrounding him. His body was aching, fighting to stay standing as another wave of armored people came in. Trying to take a step back Steve’s body gave out, a mumbled “Fucking bullshit.”, escaping before he hit the ground. His world went dark once more.

________________

If you want to be tagged in the future, comment below.

Chapter 1| Chapter 2

[blueiscoool]

Vatican Museums Opens Ancient Roman Necropolis to the Public

The site was previously only accessible to scholars and specialists.

The Vatican Museums has newly opened to the public an ancient necropolis stocked with carved marble sarcophagi and bone-filled open graves of everyday ancient Romans.

The word necropolis comes from the Greek expression for “city of the dead.” These “cities” grew up alongside roads outside the urban center due to laws forbidding cremation and burial of the dead inside city limits. Funerary practices and rites are preserved especially clearly in the necropolis that extends along the Via Triumphalis (a Roman road now known as the Via Trionfale), with burial sites accompanied by eye-popping Roman frescoes and mosaics.

Previously, the necropolis was accessible only to certain groups of scholars and specialists. It is now open to the public via the new Saint Rose Gate entrance, inaugurated with the exhibition “Life and Death in the Rome of the Caesars.”

How extensive is the archaeological area?

It extends nearly 11,000 square feet. The size of the necropolis is not as extensive as some other Roman burial sites, but its importance lies in its proximity to one of the most significant religious sites in Christianity.

What is known about particular people who are buried there?

According to archaeologists, no less than the tomb of St. Peter himself is located in the Vatican Necropolis.

But in general, “Here, we have represented the lower middle class of Rome’s population,” said Leonardo Di Blasi, an archaeologist with the Vatican Museums, in a video on Euro News. “They are essentially slaves, freedmen, artisans of the city of Rome.” Some were the property of the emperor, and are indicated to have been the “servant of Nero.”

One of them was a man named Alcimus, who was the set director for the downtown Theater of Pompeii, the most important theater of the period. Another was a horse trainer who worked at the chariot races.

One young boy is interred there, according to the Catholic News Service, marked by a sculpture of a boy’s head accompanied by an inscription reading “Vixit Anni IIII Menses IIII Dies X,” Latin for “He lived four years, four months, and 10 days.”

How did this ancient burial ground come to light?

The Vatican burial grounds were first explored in the 1940s at the request of then Pope Pius X, who wanted to be buried near the grave of Peter the Apostle. The dig revealed numerous mausoleums and tombs.

The newest part of the burial ground was revealed through an infrastructure project in 2003, as the Vatican excavated for a new multilevel employee parking garage.

What happened when the Vatican discovered these newest burial grounds?

The department of the Vatican that was overseeing construction of the parking garage, intent on meeting its deadline, was accused of trying to conceal the find, Giandomenico Spinola, an archaeologist and deputy artistic-scientific director of the museums, told the Catholic News Service. It was only when journalists publicized the discovery that he and his colleagues were invited in to advise.

When were the bodies there buried? How have the tombs been so well preserved?

Bodies were interred in this burial ground between the first century B.C.E and the fourth century C.E., and organic remains have vanished. A number of the graves, including their tombs and decorations, including frescoes, mosaic floors, and marble-carved inscriptions, were fortuitously preserved by a series of mudslides in the area.

[kingdomkeykitsune]

KHOC WEEK 2024 DAY 2: PAST

(Please ignore the wonky background, this was one of those cases where I had to pick my battles in order to get the piece done and the background won on this one)

Another post for @khoc-week! This time taking a look at the past.

For better or worse the moment in C.E.'s past that shaped her the most had to be when her father left when she was about ten. Not only did she lose her dad, one of her favorite people in the whole world at that point, but he left behind a heavy, unseen legacy to carry.

You see, once upon a time a very long time ago, in an age of fairy tales and legends, a group of people found their way to Twilight Town and took a liking to the idyllic World, deciding to take up residence there. However, they would eventually discover that creatures of Darkness also found themselves drawn there, creatures that the townsfolk had no means of defending themselves against, but that they did. They were not Keyblade warriors, but they had magic that allowed them to fight against the creatures, including allowing them to summon other magical weapons. For a long time these people, their descendants, and others who trained under them to take up the fight were hailed as heroes, but eventually the attacks began to wane and eventually became rare enough that people started forgetting. Eventually the protectors all but faded from memory, becoming nothing more than old fairy stories themselves with only one family remaining who continued to secretly train their children in the old ways so that Twilight Town was never left undefended.

C.E.'s dad, who goes by Zen, was the last to properly receive full training. It's likely he would have eventually started to properly train C.E. as well, but something drove him to leave one day, and he's never been seen since. C.E. was the only one to see him leave and is the only one who knows he purposely chose to go, everyone else in town thinks he's gone missing, but much to her frustration she finds that she physically can't tell anyone, and she has no idea why. At this point she's come to hate it when anyone brings him up because inevitably she hits up against that block and goes unwillingly silent.

Now, just because she was never properly trained to be one of Twilight Town's protectors doesn't mean she hasn't become one, she has. She and some friends we'll meet tomorrow have taken up the fight, but I'll discuss it more then~

(Also, if you're thinking Zen looks young here, he is. C.E.'s parents were rather young when she was born, but they did their best for her regardless.)

[jurakan]

Do you have a fun fact in these trying times?

Tell me, friend, do you know the story of the Lambton Worm? If not, then Today You Learned about it.

[This story is in, like, ALL the dragon books.]

The story goes that some time in the ages of the Crusades, the town of Lambton was doing its usual Sunday business of going to Mass–except for the young heir to the Lambton Estate, John Lambton, who was going fishing instead. He got a few disapproving looks from people on the way to church, but he kept fishing because he was a rebel like that. He had trouble catching actual fish, but as Mass was wrapping up, he caught something!

A worm that looked like the Devil.

Okay, so ‘worm’ in those days can also mean a serpent, and Wikipedia describes it as something eel-like. Just… he picked up something on his fishing line that was limbless, not that big, but ugly as all getout. John Lambton was freaked out by this, and he chucked it in the local well. Deciding this was punishment for his non-churchgoing ways, Johnny grows up, trying to forget about the worm. When he grows a little older, he even takes the Cross and goes on Crusade as penance.

Except the worm survived. And it grew down in that well, poisoning the water with its venom or perhaps its general ugliness. The worm eventually grows large enough to slither out of the well and starts to eat things–small animals, mostly. Then it starts drinking cows’ milk (which is a bad thing to feed dragons if you don’t want them to grow bigger), and THEN it gets big enough to start eating cows and small children.

This, as you may realize, is A Problem.

The people of Lambton, and its lord, realize that they can placate the thing by offering it milk and cows, but it keeps growing bigger, and they try to get people to come kill it. And of course knights come along and try to kill this dragon worm thing. It doesn’t work, though. Maybe they hack off a piece, but it grows back, and the worm wraps itself around a man in armor and squeezes him to death.

Finally, John Lambton, heir to Lambton, comes back from Crusade. He realizes what’s going on, and knows that it’s a problem he started in the first place, so he has to fix it. Though he sees that no one’s had much luck in killing it. So he goes to a local wise woman, and she tells him that he can kill the Worm, but first he has to make a special suit of armor, one with spearheads fused all over it. Then, when he chops it to bits, he must dump the remains in the river. And THEN, after the deed is done, he must kill the first living thing he sees. Otherwise, the house of Lambton will be cursed for nine generations.

Well, Johnny Lamb commissions the suit of armor, and then he tells his dad to arrange that when he’s done the deed, he’ll blow a horn, and so then a hunting dog will be released and John will kill it.

Lambton faces the Worm, which of course, wraps around him to constrict him. But it doesn’t work! Because his armor is covered in spikes! And so the worm pierces itself on his armor! And he has enough room to start chopping this thing to pieces. Then he throws those in the river, where the pieces are swept away before they can put themselves back together. 

[C.E. Brock's illustration.]

Lambton blows the horn to signal victory. But ohes noes! His father is so happy that he forgets to release the hound, and runs to his son and kills him. John Lambton obviously cannot go through with killing his father, so he tries to kill the hound anyway, but it doesn’t work to avert the curse. For nine generations, none of the Lambton heirs died a peaceful death in their beds.

And that’s the story of the Lambton Worm, friendo!

[John Dickenson Batten's illustration]

[theladycarpathia]

“Do I have to work with her?” Eddie asks, casting an anxious eye through Hopper’s office window to the redhead waiting anxiously outside. She was pacing up and down but now she’s lingering like a ghost. Held in limbo. Waiting.

“Mayor sure seems to think so,” Hopper says, and he already looks like he’s lost interest in the whole thing. But Eddie doesn’t appreciate being blindsided. And finding the writer girl waiting for him at his desk, wringing her hands like she expects to be sent away again, is blindsiding him. 

“It’s a distraction!” Eddie hisses, mindful that Chrissy doesn’t hear. “I have work to do, and there’s murders to solve and I don’t have time to babysit!” Hopper’s fingers twitch, like he wishes he could still smoke inside the station. He probably could use one, what with Nancy’s ability to accrue overtime, Tommy’s aversion to paperwork and Eddie’s…

Eddie just has stuff going on. He can’t afford to have Chrissy around with her huge eyes and soft voice. He can’t be responsible for another person. 

Hopper sighs heavily, in a tone that makes Eddie suspect he’s not about to get his way.

“Look, kid,” he says frankly, as though Eddie isn’t a young man in his thirties with an apartment and a detective shield and fucking tattoos. Their captain has always been like that, with an air of having seen too much and seen it all. They don’t know a lot about Hopper’s home life, but they can guess at enough. Everyone here has lost someone, their grief the driving force behind the desire to hunt down murderers.

“The mayor has pushed for this. The Cunninghams are a big presence in this town, and if their daughter - the established, famous novelist - wants to write a new series on you, then the mayor thinks that it’s good PR.” Eddie scowls. 

“She’s a romance novelist,” Eddie points out, even though everyone knows the name C.E. Cunningham. Her books are on every shelf, available at every airport, and have been made into countless Lifetime movies. The girl was born wealthy and made her own money a thousand times over at least. She could stop writing altogether and live out her days in peace. Not waiting by a scratched desk, staring at Eddie’s rubber band ball like it holds the secrets to the universe. “She’s not a crime novelist.”

“No, but she’s going to try,” Hopper counters. Eddie frowns. He’s not sure about the whole idea himself. He went home and read one of her novels the night that they met. The warm, cozy romance, with likable, quirky heroines and just enough plot to keep you from falling asleep was a jarring contrast to the pale girl shaking in the rain that lives in Eddie’s memory. Try as he might, he just can’t get the image of her, white shirt smeared with blood, out of his mind. The first time he saw Chrissy Cunningham and it felt like being struck by lightning. He felt like he was awake for the first time in twelve years, every nerve and sense on fire. Maybe Eddie hadn’t been the only one not wanting it to end. 

“Why did she have to choose us as inspiration,” Eddie mutters, picking at the loose threads on Hopper’s spare chair. Hopper just raises an eyebrow.

“You,” he says, the word landing like a blow. “She chose you as inspiration. Fuck knows why. You’re a good detective but…” The words go unspoken, because they don’t need to be said aloud. But you’re damaged. But you have walls. But you don’t let anyone in.

“Look,” Hopper says, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing the attention of the bullpen. Detectives are a nosy bunch and that’s not even getting started on the receptionist, the guy in archives, or the girl that delivers their lunch. Nancy and Tommy have already given him shit about the new girl. He’s never going to hear the end of it after this. “I think this could be good for you. Nancy has her photographer boyfriend, Tommy has friends he sees regularly…but you just…never see anyone.”

“I do!” Eddie protests a little defensively. But it rings hollow and even he knows how pale and empty his life has become. “I have the band and Hellfire…” Hopper rolls his eyes.

“Those are the same people, more or less,” he says bluntly and digs around in his top desk drawer for gum. The lack of nicotine must be getting to him. Hop doesn’t speak again until he’s unpeeled a piece and shoved it into his mouth. “The same three guys you went to high school with. Do you hang out with anyone you’ve met in the last ten years?”

When Eddie doesn’t answer, Hopper triumphantly smacks his gum.

“Thought not,” he says and leans forward over his desk. “You need to come out of your shell. I get grief, especially when you don’t have answers, but this isn’t the way to do it.”

“He was the only family I had,” Eddie says stiffly, because even a decade later, this wound is still raw. The sound of the sprinklers turning on. The door swinging in the late night breeze. Uncle Wayne lying on the trailer floor. And still, no answers. Eddie has followed every lead, chased every piece of evidence, hunted for any possible clue…and still, the only person who ever looked out for Eddie doesn’t have justice. 

“I know,” Hopper says softly, so softly that Eddie can see the thread his mind is following. His daughter died, and it wasn’t murder, but it was no less a violent death. 

But Hopper doesn’t understand it, the desperate need that has its claws hooked around Eddie’s throat. The need for answers, the need for revenge. To have someone to focus his anger on. He needs to put a face to the person who took his only family away from him, instead of the shapeless ghoul who broke into their trailer and murdered Wayne in cold blood. 

Eddie’s gone round and round in the usual way - he should have been there, he shouldn’t have stayed out so late, why was Uncle Wayne even home at that time when he worked night shifts - but all these years later, none of it helps. There’s just a cold case file and a well-polished photo on the bedside table. Uncle Wayne’s favorite baseball cap sitting on Eddie’s desk.

“I’ll try,” Eddie says, because he doesn’t have a choice. And they’d worked well on the Driscoll case after all. He’d even go so far to say that he might not have solved it without her help. For a girl that deals with love triangles and happy endings, her mind works like a homicide detective. She’s sharp. “For a while. If it doesn’t work, she’s out, mayor or no mayor.”

“Sure," Hopper says, as though Eddie has any say in the matter. The mayor would do anything if it meant the town got good publicity. Crime rate keeps rising and that doesn’t look good for his re-election campaign. Sweet little Chrissy shadowing the department has a good spin. “But if you two work together anything like the way you did yesterday, then we won’t have a problem.”

Eddie looks up through the window to catch Chrissy staring right back at him. She can’t possibly hear them but the way her eyes stare right through him make him feel like she already knows everything. His empty apartment. The murder board he hides in the closet. That solving the Driscoll case with her was the most fun he’d felt in years. His job has turned into something dry and repetitive, something he uses to get through the day. Uncle Wayne may not have justice yet but there’s other people who need it. 

Chrissy has never known anything other than a charmed life. There is no reason for her to want to follow a disillusioned detective round to the darkest parts of town to see people at their lowest. Some people might think that it’s a gimmick, a sick fascination, a means to sell more novels to a wider audience. But Eddie knows differently. There was something in her eyes that night, some pain that went deeper than the shock at the blood smeared across her hands. It was the look of someone having the veil of the world ripped away and needing to do something about it.

She’s a distraction. She’s a liability. She’s an antidote.

“It already is a problem,” Eddie says and finally, Chrissy turns away.

[rockislandadultreads]

Science Fiction & Fantasy: Sapphic Picks

Our Hideous Progeny by C.E. McGill

It's 1853 London. Ex-medical student Victor Frankenstein has been missing for years now. Frankenstein's great niece Mary Saville and her husband, Henry, are trying to follow in his scientific footsteps and become renowned paleontologists. They have the brains and the ambition; the only thing they lack is the reputation. Mary is a woman with a sharp mind but a fierce tongue and Henry is an unemployed gambling addict: none of this earning appeal with their peers. But after finding clues to her great uncle's disappearance, Mary's luck may just change. She constructs a plan that will force the scientific community to take her and her husband seriously; no one will be able to ignore them after they learn to create life. Once they have successfully constructed their Creature, Henry's ambition soars, but Mary finds herself asking deeper, more important questions than she's ever confronted before. As Henry's desire for fame grows, Mary must decide how far she is willing to go to protect the Creature she has grown to love.

Her Majesty's Royal Coven by Juno Dawson

If you look hard enough at old photographs, we're there in the background: healers in the trenches; Suffragettes; Bletchley Park oracles; land girls and resistance fighters. Why is it we help in times of crisis? We have a gift. We are stronger than Mundanes, plain and simple. At the dawn of their adolescence, on the eve of the summer solstice, four young girls--Helena, Leonie, Niamh and Elle--took the oath to join Her Majesty's Royal Coven, established by Queen Elizabeth I as a covert government department. Now, decades later, the witch community is still reeling from a civil war and Helena is now the reigning High Priestess of the organization. Yet Helena is the only one of her friend group still enmeshed in the stale bureaucracy of HMRC. Elle is trying to pretend she's a normal housewife, and Niamh has become a country vet, using her powers to heal sick animals. In what Helena perceives as the deepest betrayal, Leonie has defected to start her own more inclusive and intersectional coven, Diaspora. And now Helena has a bigger problem. A young warlock of extraordinary capabilities has been captured by authorities and seems to threaten the very existence of HMRC. With conflicting beliefs over the best course of action, the four friends must decide where their loyalties lie: with preserving tradition, or doing what is right. Juno Dawson explores gender and the corrupting nature of power in a delightful and provocative story of magic and matriarchy, friendship and feminism. Dealing with all the aspects of contemporary womanhood, as well as being phenomenally powerful witches, Niamh, Helena, Leonie and Elle may have grown apart but they will always be bound by the sisterhood of the coven.

When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill

Alex Green is a young girl in a world much like ours, except for its most seminal event: the Mass Dragoning of 1955, when hundreds of thousands of ordinary wives and mothers sprouted wings, scales, and talons; left a trail of fiery destruction in their path; and took to the skies. Was it their choice? What will become of those left behind? Why did Alex’s beloved aunt Marla transform but her mother did not? Alex doesn’t know. It’s taboo to speak of. Forced into silence, Alex nevertheless must face the consequences of this astonishing event: a mother more protective than ever; an absentee father; the upsetting insistence that her aunt never even existed; and watching her beloved cousin Bea become dangerously obsessed with the forbidden. In this timely and timeless speculative novel, award-winning author Kelly Barnhill boldly explores rage, memory, and the tyranny of forced limitations.

Lies We Sing to the Sea by Sarah Underwood

Each spring, Ithaca condemns twelve maidens to the noose. This is the price vengeful Poseidon demands for the lives of Queen Penelope’s twelve maids, hanged and cast into the depths centuries ago. But when that fate comes for Leto, death is not what she thought it would be. Instead, she wakes on a mysterious island and meets a girl with green eyes and the power to command the sea. A girl named Melantho, who says one more death can stop a thousand. The prince of Ithaca must die—or the tides of fate will drown them all. Sarah Underwood weaves an epic tapestry of lies, love, and tragedy, perfect for fans of Madeline Miller, Alexandra Bracken, and Renée Ahdieh.

[ladybrythwensinclair]

Unpopular Opinion time

Way back in the ancient days of Usenet forums and such (1998 C.E.), I had the opportunity to meet Z. Budapest. She was playing fast and loose with bad archeology to support her positions that changed like a weather cock except that men were the source of evil and oppression. She was promoting matriarchy and the oppression of men. I, at a young 17 years on this earth, couldn’t stand her gas lighting her followers, her verbal abuse of many of them when they refused to tow the company line, and her out right lies to uplift herself into a position of power. Her use of cult tactics was obvious. I called her out on it all. I repeatedly demanded citation of sources of what ever ‘fact’ she flung out to support her argument. When she refused saying it was “beneath” her to do such thing, I would go and find the academic paper (quite often with a woman in the lead on the research) that refuted her fact. I was making a point to challenge one of the leading figures of the Witchcraft community. I got called a ‘conservative christian plant’, i got called a number of unsavory things that I’m not going to post here because she was creative in her insults as she was in her lies. Eventually, other people began questioning her and she couldn’t handle it. She started going on about how she was their ‘mother’ and they ‘owed her respect’. When things hit that  point, I simply said, “I give respect to those who respect me.” That’s about when she hit the roof and went on a tirade about how I was a traitor to women kind. The next day I was banned from her usenet chat group. I believe she may be talking smack about me this day because I made a point of directly challenging her and refusing to kiss the ring for forgiveness of my audacity to critically think about what she was spouting.

Next time y’all call Z. Budapest your hero, I will regard you with suspicion. I will regard your claims of being a feminist with suspicion. Yes, she wrote a women-focused book of magic. If you want feminism in your witchcraft, look at Starhawk. She owns her errors and does her best to improve upon them. She’s not a straight up misogynist looking to build a cult.

[sarahowritesostucky]

My ex-husband looks like a very-young Chris Evans, and it's so cringe for me

One reason I prefer older Chris Evans and bearded Chris Evans is because I dated (and married 🙄-then divorced) a guy who at the time I thought was great but then I grew the 'eff up and realized what a pathetic beta-male weenie he was.

... He looks A LOT like younger Chris Evans, and so young C.E. is actually often triggering for me, in the cringey ex-husband kinda way. Like *shudder* blughghgh! how could I have been with that? (my ex - not C.E., lol)

So yeah. Yeah I really dig me some 40 yr old Evans w/ a beard. Those teeny lil' glasses don't hurt, either.

[callsignbaphomet]

[[Kay, so the whole thing seems to fit so no need to link it but I'll still drop the link to the Doc in case it's easier to read there than here.

Link

No TWs needed for this one, at least I don't think so but as always lemma know if there needs to be for something in here.]]

Norway November 17, 880 C.E. 06:07

             Jelani burst through the door while clutching a small bag containing the last of the potions and salves Sanaa ad Loke had made to deliver. While standing at the door he looked around the snow-covered village, at that time the village would be buzzing with the sounds of people greeting each other as they made their way to whatever chores or jobs they had but the village was quiet and mostly empty. It was usually at that time that Jelani would be making his way over to his grandfather to help herding and tending to the sheep but today was a little different. Most of the people in the village had gone to help a village that had been attacked by knights, word of the attack reached them in the north and to help Ingvarr had sent a few of his people to offer aid and protection from further aggression. Most of the houses were empty and there was a silence in the atmosphere that felt almost uneasy. Jelani was used to seeing many people around the village at that time, some going to check on the cattle, others to relieve guards of their post so they could rest, the blacksmiths were on their way to make weapons and armor though most of their time was spent fixing broken or old pieces that held up buildings and houses.

The ten-year-old boy ran towards the stables to see if Loke's horse, Helga, was prepared. To his surprise Helga was ready but neither his brother nor his parents were anywhere near the stables. Jelani looked around but before leaving he reached out to pet the old mare's snout. Helga was the oldest of the mares but the gentlest one. She was used to being patted and scratched by everyone in the village, young and old, her age had granted her a patience that at times felt almost supernatural. Helga stretched her neck and sniffed Jelani's open palm as he stood on his toes to pet her.

“Hello, Helga.” Jelani said in a playful tone as he gently patted Helga's nose.

“There you are, little one!”

A voice boomed excitedly behind Jelani as he was lifted into the air. As he was turned around, he smiled when he saw his grandfather smiling back at him. Haakon gave Jelani a tight hug but before walking away he petted Helga.

“Your parents are looking for you. Why didn't you wait?”

“I'm sorry, papa. I just wanted to see what was taking so long.”

“Oh, you're that excited about the journey?”

“Yes!”

“You're not even a little scared?” Haakon laughed as he walked back to his son's home with his grandson in his arms.

“Uh-uh.” Jelani answered enthusiastically.

Haakon let out a hearty laugh as he hugged his grandson tightly. Truth was he was nervous about letting Jelani go to the village that had been attacked. Knights tended to hang around an area they’ve attacked to wait for allies to show up to provide aid and attack the allies. To make matters worse there was a recent spike in raider activity and these were brazened. There was also the matter of the distance. If it’d been up to Haakon neither of his grandsons would be making the journey to deliver supplies and medicine but Loke insisted, he wanted to help and where one sibling went the other was right next to the other. Ingvarr and Sanaa were sure it was perfectly safe. Loke was a mature, capable and fiercely protective man so neither saw anything wrong with letting their thirty-two-year-old son look after his ten-year-old brother. Haakon trusted Loke to take care of and protect his younger brother but there was an uneasiness stirring within him. As they reached Ingvarr's house Haakon put Jelani down but before he could run off to find his parents Haakon held him back and knelt to look him straight in the eyes.

“Jelani, I need you to listen to me closely, all right?”

Jelani turned and paid attention. Haakon’s tone had turned serious, and he wanted to see why.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, little one. However, this is the first time you’ll be away, so I need you to promise me that you’ll be good, and you’ll listen to your brother, all right? You do everything he tells you to when he tells you to.”

“I will, papa, don't worry.”

Haakon forced a smile on his face, he was worried, and he grew even more so as the uneasiness in his stomach grew. He looked at Jelani up and down as he rested his hands on his small shoulders and afterwards hugged him. He desperately wanted to tell him and Loke not to leave but he had no real excuse to tell them. Telling them not to go off the strength of a bad feeling didn't seem like a good idea. He was probably nervous to see his youngest grandson away for that much time.

“Oh, my sweet, there you are.” Sanaa called out and Jelani ran to his mother and gave her a tight hug. Ingvarr joined his wife and son and Haakon smiled as he looked at them as Loke emerged from the house and picked up and carried Jelani as he hugged his mother.

“Is everything ready?” Haakon asked as he stood straight, the uneasiness in his voice was almost noticeable.

“Yes,” Loke confirmed, “We should start heading out soon. We have a lot of area to cover.”

“Maybe I should go instead of you boys.”

“Father, don't be ridiculous.” Ingvarr interjected as he chuckled. “Your shoulder isn't fully healed yet. You should rest.”

“My shoulder feels fine.”

“Ingvarr's right.” Sanaa said as she walked over to Haakon and placed her hand on his injured shoulder and gave her father-in-law a warm smile. “You should rest. Besides,” she turned to Loke with a wide smile and pride in her face, “Loke is more than capable of handling this and looking after his brother. I wouldn't trust anyone else.”

“Thanks, mother.” Loke sheepishly said as he tried to hide his face by lowering his gaze as well as the enormous smile that quickly formed upon hearing his mother give such high praise.

Haakon, having given up on trying to stop his grandsons from making the journey to the village, hugged Loke and whispered something in his ear. Loke seemed confused by the words his grandfather uttered but nevertheless he nodded and returned the hug. The old berserker then turned to Jelani who was still in Loke's arms and reminded him of what he’d asked of him earlier. Jelani nodded enthusiastically.

Loke and Jelani said their goodbyes and made their way to Loke’s horse who was ready with their supplies and the supplies Sanaa had prepared for the village. Loke mounted the old mare first and got settled comfortably and then reached down so Jelani could grab hold of Loke’s arm and once he had a good grip Loke lifted his little brother and sat him in front of him as he knew Jelani liked holding onto the reins.

Both set off and headed south. Loke figured it would take them an hour and a half to reach the southernmost part of the island where they’d have to cross into the mainland, the stretch of water was less than a mile wide but usually there were boats in the area that frequently offered passage to others into the mainland so crossing with Helga and the supplies wouldn't be much of a problem. From there it would take them roughly eighteen to twenty hours to reach the village.

The journey to the shore was pleasant. Both siblings got along wonderfully and neither ceased to amuse the other. Despite their twenty-two-year gap both often found plenty of common ground and often spent hours talking. The hour and a half it took to reach the point to cross into the mainland was spent talking about Loke, Ingvarr, Sanaa and Jørgen’s latest brush with slayers that had made their way onto the island and had threatened a small village of werewolves. The four of them managed to repel the slayers before they could do any real harm. Dealing with slayers was like dealing with raiders and bandits, they had no real organization, lacked any real discipline, were mostly opportunistic cowards that heavily relied on the element of surprise and most of the time they were very unprepared. The only thing that drove them was their hate for anything that wasn't human or humans who mingled with non-humans. Aside from that they weren't a real threat. However, something within their ranks was happening. Stronger, bolder, skilled and organized numbers were appearing amongst the slayers. Survivors of their attacks heard slayers refer to these individuals as knights. They were better equipped, knew how to fight and were organized, every move they made was deliberate and calculated. The same hate that invigorated slayers drove knights but unlike slayers knights were observed using magic and other tools slayers deemed corrupt or sinful yet they banded together. Rumors of a group led by knights and backed by slayers had been circulating for about a year, but it looked like the rumors were true. Loke would be lying to himself if he didn't say he felt some level of worry over these knights. They seemed like a threat and the fact that they managed to snake their way into the mainland meant it was only a matter of time before they would find their way onto the island and set their sights on their village. He kept his worries to himself though, there was no need to worry his brother about potential future attacks. He wanted this small journey to be about both of them, he wanted his little brother to have some fun on his first excursion away from their family.

As they reached the shoreline Loke stopped the old mare and dismounted when he saw a group of armed men trying to push back a small boat with elderly people, children, what looked like injured men and women, and a middle-aged woman in it. The woman seemed angry while the elders looked to be a mix of worried, frightened and slightly ashamed.

“Stay here.” Loke said as he looked at the crowd.

“What are they doing?” Jelani asked as he observed the crowd with a bit of caution.

“I’ll find out.”

Loke made his way to the men and the boat. He could hear both parties arguing about trying to gain entry to the island and the other denying them passage. Loke looked to the oldest of the armed men and immediately recognized him, he was a disheveled, scarred old man in his seventies, with hair as white as snow and gray strands between, he had a long unkempt beard and a dead right eye. His body language was as foul as the words he spat at the people in the boat.

“Alvíss? What's going on?” Loke asked as he approached the crowd.

“They're trying to get into the island, and we keep telling them they have to go find shelter elsewhere.”

“Why?”

“Are you blind and deaf, boy?” Alvíss asked with a bitterness in his tone that Loke did not appreciate. “Knights attacked the mainland. Three villages are gone, and five others are barely standing as it is. Now mainlanders want to come to the island supposedly seeking refuge.”

“We are!” The middle-aged woman screeched as her frustration boiled over. “This? This is all that survived an attack by those knights! We're just trying to find a safe place to rest and catch our breath.”

“And how do we know you're not knights trying to attack us?” Alvíss retorted.

“Because you all would have been dead by now.” Loke responded. “If they were knights, they would’ve come prepared and armed. They would’ve easily run you all through and tossed your carcasses aside and kept walking. Now tell your men to stand down! This is absurd! These are scared and injured people, there's children and elderly in that boat, not knights!”

Alvíss’s men lessened their grips on their weapons and looked back and forth between Alvíss and the boat as if waiting for Alvíss to give word on what to do. Loke was right, knights were ruthless and didn't resort to undercover tactics to gain entry into places. Once they had a target in their sights, they usually walked up to it and set it on fire regardless of who was in it. Alvíss was terrified, he wasn't going to admit it, but he was terrified of these knights. He was a human living alongside non-humans and that alone was grounds for knights to execute him as if he were a werewolf or a vampire or any other non-human. He looked back at his men and saw their demeanor lessen, their weapons were mostly down so he sighed heavily and ordered them to keep them down.

“So be it…but these mainlanders are not welcome in our village.”

Loke shook his head in disappointment as he walked past Alvíss and helped the woman pull the boat to shore. He helped the people onboard get off the boat safely as most were either old, injured or small children. Once they were all safely off the boat Loke walked over to Jelani and grabbed his own supplies he had in a bag, patted Jelani on the head while smiling at him and walked back to the group. He handed his supplies to the woman and pointed towards his and Jelani's village.

“Follow the shoreline north and once you reach several ships and boats docked on the shore turn inland to the east. My village is there. On foot it should take you about two hours to reach it. For the sick and injured among you, find my mother, Sanaa, she can help. For everything else ask for my father, Ingvarr, he’s the chieftain. There's some food and water in the bag as well as a bit of salve in case you need any along the way. I promise, you won't be turned away.”

“Have you gone mad, boy?” Alvíss interjected as he pulled on Loke's shoulder to turn him around to make him face him. “What if the knights that attacked them are following them? You’d lead straight to your people. To your family!”

“They're more than welcome to try. We're well over three hundred berserkers, over eighty werewolves of all breeds, over twenty vampires of almost all ranks, realm jumpers, daefiernos of all kinds, dozens of some of the hardiest humans you’d never want to come across, and the most powerful arcanist berserker the world ever saw. I like our chances.” Loke finished his sentence with a mischievous smile that formed as he boasted about the people of his village Alvíss so quickly deemed in danger. However, as he continued to look at Alvíss his smile and expression turned bitter as his next words were coated with venom. “Unlike some people we never turn away those who need help.”

Loke watched as Alvíss, and his men retreated from the area. He was sure they’d return to harass other mainlanders trying to find refuge from the attacks but there was nothing he could do at the moment. His main priorities were to take care of his brother and deliver the supplies to the village. After watching the men leave Loke turned to the woman and the rest of the refugees with a softer stance and expression.

“I’m sorry about Alvíss, he shouldn't have been doing this. My brother and I can escort you back if you need. We only have one horse but–”

 “Believe me, you’ve done more than enough, and we can manage. We’ve made it this far; we’ll make it to your village. Thank you.”

Loke and Jelani watched the small group march on. He felt horrible about not escorting them himself to make sure they made it to the village safely, but he also had the supplies his mother put together for the survivors of the village he and Jelani were traveling to. With a little prayer to the stars for the group's safety he turned to Jelani and helped him off the old mare. Both got Helga into one of the boats and Loke rowed them across the water. Jelani offered to help but Loke entrusted him to keep an eye on Helga even though the mare was unnaturally calm. It would take a serious cataclysmic event to rattle that old mare and even then, some believed nothing could. Once on the other side the boys made sure to tie off the boat once they got Helga out of it. They mounted up and continued on their way south to the village.

“Why did Alvíss try to stop the mainlanders from coming to the island?”

“He's just afraid, little one.”

“Of what? They didn't look like a threat.”

“They're not but…sometimes people get scared and act irrationally. Some even turn hostile like Alvíss did. It's alright to be scared but just make sure your fears never cloud your judgment. Do you remember that werewolf that lost control of himself during a full moon?”

“Aye.” Jelani recalled the incident. The werewolf in question had lost his charm after a fight with a bear he fought off his land. When he couldn't find the charm, he resorted to locking himself in his home that night but he somehow broke free and found his way into the village looking for prey.

“Father, Uncle, Grandfather, and I were afraid when we confronted him. It could've been so much easier to drive a silver blade through him and then bury him in the morning, but we knew better so we restrained him ourselves until dawn. Just because we were scared it didn't mean we were going to turn our backs on someone that needed help. It wasn't his fault.”

Jelani remembered how scared Sanaa was that night. Her husband and her eldest son were pinning and holding down an out-of-control werewolf during a full moon. Few living beings could go hand to hand with a werewolf yet the four of them dared to in order to save the lives of the people in the village and the werewolf's life. They’d spent a few hours wrestling the beast to the ground and once they did, they piled up on him to keep him from attacking anyone else. It hadn't been easy but over one thousand five hundred pounds of near unbreakable armor and muscle kept the werewolf in place until the rising sun ended his thrashing. The man was remorseful and ashamed for having caused so much trouble, but he was grateful none of them resorted to hurting or killing him. Loke walked away with a lot of bruises and a few open wounds that bled profusely but Sanaa quickly took care of them. Loke held no grudge against the man, he was just glad no one was hurt.

“You didn't look scared that night.”

“I was terrified. All I kept thinking was that I needed to keep him from reaching Mother and you. Yes, I was injured a little, but no one was hurt, not exactly. Sometimes doing the right will frighten you but you just have to push through it. All right?”

“Yes.” Jelani giggled as Loke tickled him.

The boys kept riding south and did not stop or slow down. With Loke's supplies in the hands of the refugees there was less food for them, but Loke figured he'd hunt down a rabbit or some other small game to make dinner after setting up a camp for the night.

They rode for hours until Loke figured they had an hour before the sun would set. He looked for a comfortable spot and once he found one, he tasked Jelani with starting a fire while Loke hunted down a rabbit for both. Before leaving Loke told Jelani not to leave the camp as neither of them were very familiar with the area and he could easily get lost. Once Loke headed into the woods Jelani got to work on building the fire, he’d done it several times. He knew how to arrange the wood and how to start the fire as well as how to keep it roaring. When he finished, he walked over to Helga and retrieved his bag and removed two apples, he gave one to Helga who happily ate the apple and the other he cut in half. One half for him and the other for Loke.

Jelani sat by the fire and patiently waited for his brother to return. Out of boredom he pulled at some of the grass counting each blade of grass he pulled out when suddenly he heard a noise in the distance. Both he and Helga looked up to where the sound came from but there was nothing between the trees. The forest fell silent again, no animals could be heard, much less insects and it worried Jelani. He turned to Helga and saw the old mare’s ear swishing back and forth as if trying to pinpoint the location of something that was unnerving her. As soon as he stood up to comfort her the sound erupted from deep in the forest. This time Helga’s ears were pointed back, and Jelani could see the whites of her eyes as she stared in the direction of the sound. He had no idea what it could be. He turned to Helga and calmed her down, it must’ve been something serious as Helga wasn't known for being easily startled. As he soothed the horse, they both heard the sound again, only this time it sounded louder and this time it really scared him.

“Loki?” Jelani called out of instinct. Whenever he felt frightened or was in pain the person he always called out to was his brother.

“Loki!”

No answer. The forest fell quiet again and fear began to stir in the pit of his stomach. A thought then crossed his mind that chilled his bones. What if the sound was his brother screaming? What if his brother was in danger or was hurt? Jelani rushed to his bag and retrieved a small blade and then made sure Helga’s reins were secure, once he did, he ran in the direction of the sound.

As he ran through the forest, he called out to his brother but there was no answer. As he ran around, he listened carefully in case he heard the sound again but after a few minutes he’d gotten turned around and was now lost. He couldn't tell which direction the sound had come from or where their camp was.

“Looookiiiiiiii!”

Fear and desperation were clawing at him as he quickly looked around for any signs of familiarity. He was so far from the camp he couldn't even see the fire he’d started. As he inhaled to yell out for his brother again, he heard the sound coming from behind him but this time it sounded clearer and louder. It sounded like a strange scream, it felt almost inhuman to some degree. Jelani had no choice but to follow the sound and hope that whatever was making that sound wasn't hostile or in danger.

Jelani kept walking in the direction of the sound and soon came across a large clearing and what was once a camp in the middle of it. The grass and shrubs were black, and the smell of smoke was still in the air though faint. Items, clothes, weapons, vegetables, firewood and other items were thrown about either completely burned or half burned, what hadn't caught fire was broken and some other items were thrown about. He looked around carefully as he debated whether he should explore the area or go back to camp. Curiosity won out in the end, so he slowly made his way into the rundown camp to see what was making that unsettling sound. As he got closer to the middle of the camp he noticed several sheep carcasses along with what appeared to be two cats and five dogs. All the animals had been burned but one of the dogs had been decapitated. Jelani stared at the corpses of the animals and felt sick. He wondered what these animals could have possibly done to incur such violence, especially that one particular dog. With a heavy sigh Jelani continued on his way to see if there were any people in the camp.

As he made his way through the rubble, he found a pile of clothes on top of a haystack. The clothes were vibrant in color and looked clean and unaffected by the fire. He grabbed a tunic from the pile, it was much too small for him meaning that at one point there had been small children in the camp. When he set the tunic back down, he noticed a toy next to the pile. It was a wooden toy carved in the shape of a dog sitting on its hind legs with the front paws up to its chest as if begging. The curly tail was pinned to the back and in its mouth were several flowers. The toy was around three inches tall, the finish was smooth, especially with the paint, it was colored black with gray details. The toy resembled Haakon’s dog. Jelani knew taking it without knowing who the owner was would be wrong, but the state of the camp seemed to indicate that something terrible had happened, so he grabbed the toy and moved on.

He kept walking forward and a horrible stench hit him hard enough to cause him to cover his nose. There was the smell of smoke but something else he’d never smelled before; it was rancid and had a strange undertone he couldn't identify. As he walked forward the smell got stronger which caused him to gag but he tried his best not to throw up. It’d been a few minutes since he heard the strange sound and part of him was glad, but another part was worried.

A few feet from the camp Jelani came across a pile of horribly burned items, the smell seemed to be emanating from that pile. As he walked towards it a trio of wolves stuck their heads up and stared at Jelani. In turn Jelani froze out of fear and as he stared at them, they stared back. Each of their faces was covered in blood and gore and while two of them backed away and proceeded to run away the third one bared its teeth and snarled at Jelani for a few seconds before running away. Once the wolves had run off Jelani exhaled but as soon as he focused on the pile he began to shudder. The pile was composed of badly burnt bodies and at the top where the wolves were was a person looking right at him. Due to the extent of the injuries it was hard to tell if it was a woman, a man or other. He swallowed hard as the person weakly stretched their arm towards him and uttered in a gravelly voice, “Help…”

It was the sound he’d been hearing the entire time. Jelani clutched the toy close to his chest as he whimpered and backed away from the pile of bodies though he couldn't stop staring at them. As he backed up he was grabbed and picked up while his eyes were covered. He cried and thrashed due to the fright of being surprised as well as seeing such a horrific sight.

“I told you to stay at camp! Why did you leave?!” It was Loke who picked him up. He hugged him tightly while keeping his face close to his chest so he wouldn't look at the pile of bodies. Loke stared in horror at the sight before him. Body after body crudely thrown on top of the other, some had been mutilated, others were missing limbs, the state they were in was so gruesome he couldn’t tell what he was staring at. As he continued to look at the horrible spectacle he noticed several of the bodies belonged to children in the same state as the adults and he shuddered as he tightened his grip on his little brother.

“I’m sorry, Loki, I’m sorry!” Jelani cried.

“Are you hurt? Are you alright?” Loke frantically asked as he put him down making sure his back was to the bodies and checked him for any injuries.

“I’m–I’m alright.” He stuttered as he cried.

“You cannot just run off without me, Jelani. It's dangerous out here.” Loke wiped away Jelani's tears and picked him back up. He quickly turned and headed back to the camp, he wasn’t sure if the people responsible for that massacre were still in the area and he didn’t want to risk his brother especially after seeing that the people responsible for such a horrific act didn’t seem to care if children were involved.

As Loke rushed back to the camp Jelani wrapped both arms around his brother's neck and buried his face between his neck and shoulder to avoid looking at anything. The image of that badly burnt person stretching their arm out towards him asking for help kept replaying in his mind over and over again. He wasn’t sure how long it would haunt him, but he wanted to avoid seeing anything else that was just as gruesome or worse. Back at camp Loke sat him down close to the fire and wrapped a blanket around him to keep him warm. As day turned to night the temperature dropped significantly and Loke wanted to make sure Jelani was both safe and warm. As they ate Loke noticed Jelani picked at the food and barely said a word, after Jelani ate the little bit that he did Loke noticed the toy Jelani was keeping close to him. He sat next to his little brother and brushed his hair back to get a better look at his face. Jelani looked up at him with a concerned look on his face that made Loke upset.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Are we in danger?”

“No, we're not.”

“That camp back there, there were children in it, and I saw them in the pile and there was this one person yelling for help while wolves ate them alive. They were all burned and…” Jelani paused as he tried to find the words to describe what he saw and what he currently felt. He was afraid not only for himself, his family and his village but for others as well. These knights everyone was talking about frightened him in a way no other things did. It scared him as much as seeing his older brother try to keep an out-of-control werewolf pinned to the ground while he bit him. The one thing he remembers vividly from that night was Sanaa's worried face and the blood pouring from Loke's wounds. “What if we run into them? Those people that did that to them?”

“We won't. We’ll head out at daybreak and before you know it we’ll be at the village. We're only three hours away from this point.”

“What if they find us while we sleep?”

“I’ll keep watch, little one.”

“All night? That's not fair, I’ll stay up with you.”

“No. You need to sleep.”

“But–”

“I’ll sleep when we get to the village. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

Jelani snuggled up to Loke's side, rested his head on his lap and sighed contently as he pulled the blanket over his shoulders and grasped the toy he took from the camp. He pretended to be asleep at first as he still believed it was unfair that he would get to sleep but Loke couldn't so he could keep watch over both but after a few minutes he fell asleep on Loke.

After Jelani fell asleep Loke relaxed a little and wrapped a blanket around himself. He smiled as he looked at Jelani and gently placed his right hand around him as his blanket covered the upper part of his body. Loke then looked to Helga to make sure the old mare was alright and after looking at her for a few minutes and seeing the old girl relaxed Loke felt as Jelani hugged his right arm in his sleep. A smile formed on Loke’s face as he looked at his sleeping younger brother and he suddenly found himself fighting off the urge to grab him and hug him. He gently caressed him with his thumb and then looked up at the night sky. Thousands of shimmering stars were spread across the sky and his mind drifted to the stories his mother would tell of her people, the Nyota. Stories of warriors whose blood had starlight embedded into it, whose lustrous skin and eyes were adorned with stardust, who wielded power beyond anything anyone could ever imagine. Stories of their culture, of their practices, divine secrets, festivals and celebrations all centered around the very cosmos. To him it sounded exquisitely beautiful. As he continued to look up at the night sky and focused on the space between the stars, that space that seemed to swallow all light, he saw a faint glimmer sliding across the sky and let out a quiet gasp as he continued to stare in awe. According to his mother, her people looked to four goddesses made from the very cosmos itself for guidance, three of them: Aberash, Nuru, and Berhane were said to live among the Nyota. However, there was a fourth goddess that lent her wisdom and guidance though she did so from far away. Nomathemba is said to live in space circling the planet. It is said that if she were to stop circling the planet for even one second a horrific terror beyond the scope of understanding would find something hidden on Earth and would come after it. Nomathemba herself chose to act as a guardian in the hopes of staving off a disaster from which nothing could possibly survive so she continuously circles the Earth until she is sure the threat has been neutralized or until existence is somehow halted. It’s said that her size is so massive that if she were to ever come down from space in her true form she would envelop the Earth five times over. Whenever she was seen among the Nyota it was only ever a projection of herself. However, she could constantly be seen in the spaces between the stars. Once you knew what to look for, beautiful faint colors reflecting off her impossible hues, the subtle glimmers across the sky signified her protective presence.

Of all the stories his mother told them, Nomathemba stuck out the most to Loke. A being of immense power chose to spend eternity protecting an entire planet full of people and creatures who most likely don’t even know she exists and even if her presence was to ever be revealed to the world he was sure there would be several people who would disrespect her as people tend to do to things they can’t seem to understand. That selflessness alone earned her his admiration and appreciation as well as a type of devotion. Ever since he first heard of her when he was a boy she inspired him to protect those he loved and those he didn’t that needed help, not for glory or reverence but because it’s the right thing to do even if it’s a difficult task.

The night passed by with an odd tranquility that Loke was grateful for and once the sun began to rise over the horizon he sighed happily and looked down to see Jelani still asleep next to him. He was aware he said they’d get a move on at daybreak but as he watched his little brother sleep he felt a bit guilty about waking him up so early though between the two of them Jelani was the one that was always awake before him, in fact, he was almost always awake before most of the village.

“Is it morning yet?”

Loke was caught off guard and looked down to see Jelani sitting up and rubbing his eyes as he yawned. He couldn’t help but chuckle and give him a pat on the head that ended in a gentle scratch.

“Aye.” Loke answered. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Jelani smiled but just as quickly as his smile appeared it turned into a concerned frown as he remembered that Loke had volunteered to stay awake all night long just in case. “What about you? Were you awake all night?”

“Yes, but it’s alright, little one, I’ll get some sleep tonight in the village.” Loke smiled at Jelani to reassure him that he was indeed alright despite having spent the entire night awake. Jelani stared back with doubt and a concerned look on his face, but Loke gave him a kiss on the forehead and said, “I promise, now go wash up while I gather our things, then we’ll eat breakfast and head to the village. If the weather is favorable, we should be there in three to four hours.”

Jelani nodded happily and went to grab a few items from his bag. As they rode through the area yesterday they noticed a small creek which is mainly why Loke chose the spot to make camp and spend the night. Once he had the items he needed he grabbed a bright red apple and fed it to Helga.

“Jelani?” Loke spoke up so Jelani turned to look at his older brother who was folding the blankets, “Wash up and come right back. Please, don’t wander off.”

“I won’t.” Jelani responded as ran off to find the creek.

“Is he your son?” Loke was startled enough to drop the blanket. He turned around to look at the source of the voice. A pale woman a few years older than Loke idly stood behind him. Her curly dark brown hair was loosely tied, and she wore furs adequate for the current temperature, her faintly red lips housed a smile though her dark gray eyes seemed off to him. Her posture and stance seemed friendly and Loke didn’t see a weapon of any kind on her but a strange feeling overcame him, so he looked at her cautiously.

“No, he’s my little brother.”

“Oh,” The woman’s smile widened, “he’s beautiful.”

“Yes, he is. Can I help you?”

“Mmm, no, I’m just passing through.”

Loke noticed the woman avoided looking at him directly and instead kept looking in the direction that Jelani had taken off to and every hair on his body stood on end. He moved himself to stand directly in front of the woman though he put enough space between them in order to gain a start in case he had to run to his brother or to maneuver in case she drew a concealed weapon.

“Are you traveling by yourself?”

“Yes, I am.”

Every single one of Loke’s senses were on high alert. The woman’s behavior seemed odd. She kept her answers to his questions brief and vague and while there was nothing wrong with that this entire scenario felt dangerous to him. Natives to the area were aware that the area they currently found themselves in had no nearby villages, the nearest one was three to four hours to the southeast and the closest one to that one was two hours away to the northeast. No matter where she was going she had a lot of ground to cover and Loke noticed a lack of supplies on her, no bags, no equipment, and no horse either. There was also the matter of her accent, it felt forced, like she wasn’t a native speaker of the language. Loke was well aware that depending on where in the country you found yourself in your accent would differ. His and Jelani’s accents were from those that lived in the north of the country, specifically the northern islands dotting the mainland. Those that lived in the middle parts of the mainland had a different accent and those that lived in the southernmost regions had another type of accent. Loke had heard all and was familiar with them all yet he couldn’t place hers. While a person’s accent seemed like a silly and trivial thing to worry about everything about the situation he currently found himself in didn’t seem trivial much less silly. As she averted her eyes to look to where Jelani was once again he moved to block her view.

“Where are you headed to?”

“Visiting old friends.”

“Really? Where are these friends?”

The woman didn’t answer this time, she just stared at Loke and widened her smile, yet her eyes were demonstrating an entirely different emotion, as her body tensed up her eyes intensified with what Loke could tell was annoyance. Loke had a particular talent for reading body language, facial expressions and being able to tell when someone was lying, and he was damn good at it too. The only person he told about this talent was his mother. 

“Loki?”

At the sound of Jelani’s voice the tension in the air dissipated. Jelani hurried over to Loke when he saw the woman and stood close enough to grab onto his leg. This was something he often did to silently let his brother know he was either scared, uncomfortable, in some type of pain, or to let him know he needed him. Jelani had walked back to camp silently and stood still when he saw his brother and the woman talking. Even Jelani could sense that something was wrong by Loke’s serious tone so he quickly made his way to safety, his brother. Loke in turn placed his hand on Jelani’s right shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze to let him know he was acknowledging him while keeping his eyes on the woman. In turn the woman eased her tension, looked down at Jelani and smiled as she crouched down to get a better look at him.

“Hello.” she said in a loud and friendly voice. “So, what is your name?”

“It’s probably best if you continue passing through. We wouldn’t want to delay you any further.” Loke intervened, before the woman could continue to ask Jelani questions he pulled him behind him to shield him from the woman and forced her to focus on him instead of his brother. Now that Jelani had returned from the creek he dismissed the woman. He hadn’t done so before because he wanted to make sure Jelani was with him instead of at the creek where the woman would be able to do anything without Loke knowing.

“I’m in no hurry to get to where I’m headed.”

“Good-bye.” Loke’s tone was beginning to turn harsh, and the woman picked up on that and so did Jelani who tightened his grip on Loke’s leg out of fear. The woman stood back up and without saying a word she left making her way north. Loke kept an eye on her until the forest obscured his view of her and he was sure she was gone, then Loke grabbed Jelani’s hand and walked him over to Helga and sat him on the mare, he quickly put the supplies Sanaa had made on Helga and walked to the front and handed Jelani the reins.

“Who was she?”

“I don’t know. Stay on Helga, if I tell you to run you ride to the village.”

“What about you?!” Jelani yelled out in concern.

“I’ll catch up. You keep riding southeast and you do not stop for any reason. Understood?”

“Yes…” Jelani quietly agreed as he lowered his gaze to hide the tears forming on the corner of his eyes. Loke slowed down when he realized Jelani was frightened and hugged him. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, you know that right?”

“What if something bad happens to you?”

“Nothing bad will happen to either of us.”

Loke wiped away Jelani’s tears and smiled at him. What he really wanted to say was that he preferred something bad to happen to him rather than it to happen to Jelani. From the very night he was born Loke was determined to take care of his brother and shield him from everything that would mean him any harm even if it meant using himself as the shield. He would gladly forfeit his own life if it meant sparing Jelani’s. Of course, a scared ten-year-old boy wouldn’t want to hear that, so he comforted him. After Jelani stopped crying Loke grabbed their belongings and hurriedly put them away and put them on the mare. This took a total of ten minutes and then he made sure the fire they had was safely snuffed out to avoid creating a fire in the forest. Once Loke was sure everything was packed and ready he hopped up on the mare and the three of them left the area and rode southeast to get to the village.

After a while Jelani calmed down enough to start laughing and talking. With the strange woman appearing out of nowhere and interrupting their morning neither sibling was able to eat breakfast so along the way Loke grabbed one of the bags and took out some fruits, mostly berries and such, for them to eat. After about an hour and twenty-four minutes of riding through the thick snow-covered forest Helga suddenly stopped in her tracks, Loke urged her to continue but the old mare’s ears twitched in all directions and subtly moved her body from side to side. She heard or smelled something that was making her very nervous. Both siblings looked around for whatever was causing Helga so much distress but neither of them saw or heard anything. As a precaution Loke tried to conjure his axe though he found he couldn’t, something was preventing him from conjuring the axe and as he kept trying he kept looking around.

“What’s happening?” Jelani asked nervously.

“I’m not sure, little one.” Loke said as he kept his left hand extended to try and conjure the axe and wrapped his right arm around Jelani.

All of a sudden Helga let out a loud scream and took off startling both siblings. As she ran Jelani, who had the reins, tried to regain control of the old mare and pulled on the reins as hard as he could to make Helga stop but she wouldn’t. Meanwhile Loke tried his best to hold on to Jelani so he wouldn’t fall off Helga as she ran through the forest as fast as her legs could carry her. As Loke held on to Jelani he looked up in time to see a tight rope being pulled and as a last-minute reaction he pushed Jelani down and tried to lower himself, but he hadn’t been quick enough. The rope missed Helga and Jelani, but Loke wasn’t as fortunate, he slammed into the rope around the chest area and was forcefully knocked off the horse and hit the ground hard on his back. The hit and the slam were hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs so as soon as he was able to breathe in he began to cough uncontrollably while trying to sit up. When Loke regained a little bit of control over his coughing a large and older man walked up to him and slammed his foot on Loke’s chest forcing him back to the ground.

“Do not move!” Another man yelled as he aimed a bow and arrow directly at Loke’s face. Next to that man was another one aiming a short bastard sword at his chest while the man pinning him down gave Loke a sinister smile.

“We’ll deal with this one and then we’ll find the boy.”

As the three men looked at each other Loke had reached for a blade he always kept with him as a backup. Once he had a good grip on it, he stabbed the man aiming an arrow at his face in the foot and as he yelled he slashed at the man holding the sword and cut him just above the knee. As the two men recoiled the third one lifted his foot off Loke, so he quickly stood up and squared off. The man looked on in confusion until he looked at Loke’s hand and saw a knife in his hands and smiled again.

“Clever. Not many of your kind carry man-made weapons. Why bother when you can conjure them with your trickery?”

Loke starred the man down, he knew what he was without needing to announce himself to him. His furs were soaked in what Loke could only guess was werewolf blood, the necklace of fangs around his neck were fangs that once belonged to vampires and the claws decorating his gauntlets were that of various other non-human creatures. They particularly hated berserkers because they couldn’t take any prizes off them. Once a berserker was dead their armor and weapons vanished back to wherever it was that they resided in until they were conjured. There was also the fact that berserkers were well over eight feet tall with massive pieces of armor and colossal weapons. No matter how strong slayers were they’d never be able to carry or wear berserker armor and weapons. Slayers loved to adorn themselves with the body parts of their victims, but these slayers were smart. Loke noticed several small dampening stones among their adornments, which is why he wasn’t able to conjure his weapons or his armor.

The man with the sword had recovered and let out a furious roar as he ran towards Loke with his sword held high to most likely swing sideways to cut him across the body. As the man swung his sword Loke dodged it as the sword clumsily missed him though it was still a little too close for comfort. As the sword slammed into the ground Loke turned his upper body and as the man, who had bent over slightly as his full weight had been used on the swing of his sword, was starting to raise himself back up Loke plunged his knife into the back of the man’s head instantly killing him. Without wasting time Loke removed the knife and turned to face the archer who had taken aim at him. As Loke threw the knife the man fired his arrow. Both projectiles quickly flew towards their intended targets. Loke’s knife dug into the archer’s left cheek while the archer’s arrow hit Loke on his right arm. The arrow cut him deeply but at least it hadn’t gone through his arm, however, the cut in his arm was bleeding profusely and he began to panic. Loke was what several people in the village called a “bleeder”, any significant injuries led to him bleeding in an almost out of control manner. When he was eight years old, he nearly died from a horrible gash he acquired from an accident while he practiced some sword fighting techniques with some of the other boys. Had it not been for his mother’s quick actions and knowledge Loke would’ve died that day.

Loke inhaled and shook his head. He didn’t have time to worry about a cut in his arm, he needed to get to Jelani in case there were more slayers in the area, there usually were. They were known to kill non-humans of any age without prejudice, so he needed to stop them from harming his brother. As he took a step forward the third man turned him around and ran his bastard sword made of silver through Loke. The cold blade had passed through him from underneath his sternum and exited out the back missing his spine by a few inches. Loke took painful and shuddering breaths as he looked at the slayer with a pained and almost angry look on his face, in turn the slayer couldn’t help but smile as he slowly pulled the blade out. The pain was so intense that Loke had lost his balance and was collapsing to the ground, but the slayer held him up as he continued to watch him struggle. Loke gathered his strength and in one swift move he head butted the slayer in the face breaking his nose in the process, as the slayer recoiled, and the wound caused his eyes to tear up Loke used the opportunity to fall on him and punched him as hard as he could for as long as he could. After he was losing his strength due to blood loss Loke stood up and walked in the direction where he’d seen Helga run off to. The more he walked the weaker he got but he willed himself to keep going at least until he could find Jelani.

After a few minutes Loke fell on his knees and hunched over as he coughed. He pressed his right hand against the stab wound and looked at his hand to see it covered in blood, he then looked down to see an alarming amount of it all over himself. He pressed his hand on the wound again, the pain caused him to shudder loudly and hang his head. He tried hard to stand back up but found it difficult.

“Loki!”

At the sound of his name being called Loke looked up and saw Jelani riding over to him and panic began to swell within him. He tried to stand but the pain was unbearable and to make it worse he felt weak and dizzy.

“Run…” Was all he could say as he hunched over and tried to hold himself up with his left arm as he clutched his chest with his right arm.

“Loki?!” Jelani cried out with concern in his voice as he stopped Helga and dismounted. Due to the mare’s size and his stature Jelani fell to the ground but quickly stood back up and ran to his brother. He fell on his knees as he held onto Loke and looked with absolute horror and fear at the amount of blood on him.

“Why did you come back?” Loke asked.

“To find you.” Jelani said as he grabbed Loke’s left arm and began to pull on it. “We have to go before they find us!”

“Listen–listen to me. Listen to me.” Loke stuttered between breaths. He forced himself to sit up and placed his left hand on Jelani’s cheek. “Get on the horse and run, you run, and you don’t stop or look back no matter what you hear.”

“All right, I’ll help you get to Helga, and we’ll go.”

“No! Je–no, Jelani, you have to leave me here. I’ll hold them back and you run and get to the village.”

 “What?! No, I’m not leaving you here!” Jelani began to cry as he tightly hugged Loke who in turn hugged him back.

“You have to, little one. Either way I won’t make it to sundown, but I can at least hold them back so that you can.”

“No, don’t say that!”

“I promised that nothing would ever harm you and I intend to keep that promise until my last dying breath.”

“Please don’t leave me…” Jelani whimpered as he buried his face on his brother’s neck and cried.

“And I never will, little one.” Loke whispered as he hugged his brother. He gathered his strength and picked Jelani up and made his way to Helga. He sat Jelani on the saddle, but he wouldn’t let go of Loke as he continued to cry and beg him not to leave him.

Eventually Loke pulled Jelani off him and handed him the reins; among the supplies was a dagger which Loke removed and held onto to at least have a way to fight the slayers back.

“Loki, please?”

Loke looked up. He hated seeing Jelani cry and if there was anything he could do to ease his pain he would, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he bled to death, by staying behind he could at least spare his brother from seeing him die next to him and at least keep his promise to protect him even if it meant dying at the hands of slayers. Loke gave Jelani one last hug as he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jelani replied as he hugged him back.

Loke gently pressed his forehead on Jelani’s for a few seconds and then kissed his forehead and with the dagger in one hand he smacked Helga with the other and watched the old mare and his little brother run east towards the safety of the village. After a few minutes he looked up at the sky and begged the stars and the cosmos to keep Jelani safe once he was gone. With some renewed strength and determination Loke held on to the dagger and walked back in the direction he’d come from to hold back the slayers.

As he made his way through the forest he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a row of ten horses and their riders all staring down at him. Their faces housed gleefully wicked smiles as they looked at him. Loke took a deep breath as he scowled at them.

“Well,” A familiar voice said and from between the riders came the slayer that had run Loke through, his sword still had Loke’s blood on it, “It seems like this one may still have some fight left in him.”

The rest of the slayers laughed but Loke continued to scowl at them. The more time they wasted mocking him the further away Jelani got.

“Where’s the boy?”

“Why worry about a child when…you haven’t even killed the adult?”

The rest of the slayers chuckled in amusement though their leader hadn’t found Loke’s remark funny. He inhaled deeply as he sucked in air through his teeth and exhaled quickly. He dismounted his horse and stood in front of it as he looked left and then right and four of the slayers drew their bows and aimed their arrows right at Loke.

“You look half dead to me.” The slayer replied. He looked and pointed at one of the slayers and said, “Find the boy and bring him back, he couldn’t have gotten far yet.”

 The other slayer nodded and took off. As he rode past Loke he grabbed the dagger tightly, aimed and tossed the dagger at the slayer. The blade sank deep into the man’s back who yelled out and tried to grab it but as he did, he lost balance and fell off his horse. As Loke turned to face down the lead slayer the four archers had fired their arrows. One hit Loke on his right lung, another hit him on his right thigh, one hit his left shoulder and the last one hit him on his lower abdomen. Somehow Loke was still standing despite the pain, the dizziness, and the blood loss. He stood still as he tried to breathe though he found it difficult.

The slayer made his way towards Loke and kicked him in the chest causing him to fall back and land on his back. The landing exacerbated the pain and caused him to cough which made it all the worse as his right lung collapsed and filled with blood. The more he coughed the more blood flowed up his esophagus until it was coming out of his mouth in a red foam. The slayer stood over Loke and smiled as he took in the sight. He took the arrow that was stuck to Loke’s thigh and pulled it out as hard as he could, he did the same with the arrow in his lower abdomen and sat on him while staring at him and smiling. After a few seconds he turned to face the rest of his men and ordered them to find Jelani.

Loke swallowed hard as he watched the slayers take off to the east and tried to take a deep breath but found he couldn’t because of the pain. The slayer sitting on him leaned forward and creepily caressed his throat with his hand as he whispered, “You want to know what’s the best part of hunting down abominations like you? Getting to watch you slowly die. Looking you in the eyes as your life is slowly drained.”

In defiance to the slayer’s eerie claim and obnoxious laughter Loke spat blood on his face. He wanted to say something, but the pain was too much for him at that point. The slayer laughed and was about to say something as well when all of a sudden, a tremendously loud and booming, droning sound exploded from within the forest. Both men looked to where the sound was coming from and stood still and quiet. Loke noticed a faint fog slowly carpeting the snowy ground but was just as confused by it as he was by the sound. As the slayer frantically looked around the sound erupted once more, only this time it sounded louder. It was loud enough to cause the branches of the trees to rattle so hard that the snow covering them fell to the ground.

“What is that?” The slayer asked out loud as panic began to set in. He got off Loke and tightly gripped his sword in both hands as he looked around the forest for the source of the sound. He circled around Loke who was calm. The sound was intimidating but for some reason he didn’t feel the panic that the slayer was so obviously consumed by.

With every minute that passed Loke could feel himself fading, it was getting to the point where it was difficult to keep his eyes open. The only thing in his mind was Jelani and he hoped against hope that he had gained enough distance to safely make it to the village where he’d be safe from the slayers chasing him. With the last of his remaining strength Loke managed to sit up and leaned on a nearby tree and tried to keep his eyes open. He watched as the slayer paced back and forth as he took a defensive stance just in case whatever was making that sound made its way towards him. Perhaps it was due to the loss of blood, but Loke noticed it was getting increasingly cold and the fog was getting higher, he had no explanation for it nor did he care, he knew he wasn’t long for this world so he sat quietly and waited never once regretting his decision to put his brother’s well-being before himself.

As the slayer stared into the forest a low rumble could be heard in the distance and he quickly turned to it as he pointed his sword forward but the more he looked between the trees the more his face turned from angry to frightened. The rumbling grew louder and from the forest nine of the ten horses his men were riding ran past him. The stampede of frightened horses kept running past him though he noticed not one of his men were riding the frightened beasts. Not far behind the stampede the tenth horse emerged from the forest; only this one had a rider on its back, or at least half a rider. The lower part of a man’s body had somehow remained on the saddle but as it rode past Loke the remains fell and hit the snow-covered ground and the slayer ran to investigate.

The remains had been frozen solid, the skin along the pelvic area showed signs of tearing not cutting, whatever had done it hadn’t used a blade to cut the man’s body in half, it had torn him in half. The slayer examined the body further and found the bones, the blood and whatever organs remained were also frozen solid. In his panic he rushed over to Loke who was so weak that he closed his eyes.

“You, monster!” He yelled out as he crouched next to Loke and pulled his head up by his hair. When Loke didn’t open his eyes the slayer shook him and once he saw Loke’s eyes slowly opening he pointed to the frozen remains of one of his men and yelled, “What in the holy father’s name can do that?”

Loke looked to where the slayer was pointing to and saw the frozen remains he was yelling about, but he had no idea what could have done that. The action of tearing a body apart seemed almost bestial and the only thing Loke could think of were werewolves but the fact that the parts were completely frozen seemed impossible for a werewolf. Not to mention he knew of no werewolf that would leave that much flesh on the bone like that. The best Loke could do was groan which angered the slayer.

“You godless, useless wretch!” He exclaimed as he lifted his sword into the air but before he could strike Loke he froze as the sound that had managed to strike fear into his very core erupted once more, only this time it was so close he felt the rumbling deep within his chest cavity. With the deafening sound so close both men realized that it was two sounds emanating from one source. The first sound was a droning boom and after a few seconds a guttural roar unlike any either of them had ever heard came forth and ended in a prolonged snarl.

Loke looked past the slayer and in between the tops of the trees he saw something moving slowly like a predator stalking its prey. He didn’t know what it was, he wouldn’t be able to guess even if he tried. He’d never heard that sound before. As he watched the colossal being move through the trees it faded away.

The slayer raised his sword up and looked behind him when he saw Loke looking up. He figured he’d seen something but wasn’t able to react to it much less say anything. The forest had gone silent, only the wind could be heard eerily blowing from the north. The only other sound that could be heard was the slayer’s own deep and panicked breathing as he looked around. Suddenly right before their eyes something manifested itself before them and in one swift move it grabbed the slayer by the throat and lifted him into the air as it stared and snarled at him.

Loke managed to open his eyes at the sound of the slayer whimpering and struggling to breathe and saw what was causing him so much distress. It was massive, it looked like it stood at the very least eight to nine feet tall. Its legs were long, muscular and digitigrade, each of its two feet had three toes that ended with long, sharp black claws while the fourth toe, the largest one, appeared to be upright with a sickle-shaped enormous claw at the end of it. Further up was a slim yet powerful pelvis and torso that looked completely humanoid, loosely draped around the lower waist was a black cloth that dragged behind it as it walked. The silky material was adorned with bright golden details along the split of the side. On its back were six massive dark gray feathered wings with black details, four of them pointing upwards and the two lower ones pointing down; the middle wings were the biggest and longest ones. Golden metal dotted the spine and split into sections where the ribs were located. At the end of the spine was a long tail that started out thick and ended thin, the gold also covered the top of the tail. Its strong arms ended in humanoid looking hands with five fingers each ending in long black claws, the forearms were covered by elegant black gauntlets with golden details. Each bicep was adorned with two golden rings. The neck was covered by bright white fur, it was puffy enough to cover a bit of the shoulders, it almost resembled a mane except it only covered the neck. The head was hard to come to terms with, to Loke it looked like an off-white skull, he couldn’t exactly identify what type of skull as it looked like an elk’s, or it could be a goat’s or a sheep’s or a reindeer’s. He wasn’t sure, it looked like all of those but none at the same time. The skull-like head housed some very sharp looking dark gray teeth as well as some very long and very sharp and thick canines. Its eyes, all six of them, didn't seem to have any irises, just blood red sclera that had oval-shaped pupils that ran laterally. The top of the skull-like head had four massive black horns. Two horns shot upwards with a slight curvature to the back while the other two curled backwards and ended pointing to the front. Aside from the horns on the head the creature had an intricately woven crown floating over its head. It shone beautifully like a solar halo but dressed in golden light. However, the right side of this crown seemed broken with parts of it impossibly floating near the crown and head of the creature. The right sockets had cracks that went down to the jawline and pieces of the crown were embedded into the cracks.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before and yet he felt no fear as he looked at this terrible being. He felt a sense of tranquility that he attributed to being so close to death, at first. Looking over the being again, Loke focused on certain details like the skin of the being. It was a rich dark brown identical to his mother’s skin tone and for a fleeting moment Loke thought this was a manifestation created by his mother and with the little energy he had he slightly smiled. At least he’d get to see his mother, the woman he idolized since she came into his life, before he died. However, he kept looking at the being and focused on the gauntlets, the colors were different but that they had the exact design as the ones his father’s armor had. The cloth around the waist was a different color but it wore it like the cape his mother’s armor had and then a different thought crossed his mind.

As the slayer struggled to free himself the being holding him by his neck intently stared into his eyes while emitting a chilling rumbling hissing sound. As all six eyes locked onto his the man slowly stopped struggling and in a matter of seconds his entire body went limp, except for the look of sheer terror he sported. He looked as if he had just learned of a terrible and inescapable fate and all he could do was weep. The tall being simply opened its clawed hand and let the slayer drop clumsily onto the fog and snow-covered dirt but he quickly scrambled to stand back up. Once he stood back up, he lifted his right hand up to his right cheek and dug his nails into his own flesh while staring at the being. Loke watched as the man frantically scratched into his own skin until he drew blood and little by little he began to tear into the flesh. Once he began ripping off small patches of his own skin the slayer began to cry out in agonizing pain. His face contorted into one of agony and horror as tears formed in his eyes, yet he wouldn’t stop ripping his skin off. At one point he managed to get a good grip of the pieces of loose skin on his cheek and pulled on it with such force that he tore a chunk down to his neck exposing both muscle and bone and it made Loke recoil.

“Help meeeeeee!” The slayer cried out as he gargled his own blood while he looked at Loke.

Even if Loke hadn’t been mortally wounded and so low on energy due to blood loss and pain he still wouldn’t lend aid to the man, never to a slayer or a knight or anyone that harmed others, especially someone who threatened to do harm to his own flesh and blood. Loke remained still as he watched the slayer cry in agony while he tore off his own flesh. When he yelled for help again the being let out a groaning hiss and the slayer turned around and began to walk away all the while he was still screaming in agony and tearing off his flesh.

Both Loke and the being watched him walking into the forest until he could only be faintly heard in the distance. Loke then turned to look at the being, despite everything there was still no fear within him. The being slowly walked towards Loke and once he was next to him it crouched down and sat next to him, a gentle and soft purring replaced its horrible roar and guttural hissing. It stretched one of its hands out and gently placed it on Loke’s face. It was surprisingly soft but somehow cold yet warm against his skin. With its thumb it wiped away some of the blood that fell out of Loke’s mouth and Loke leaned into the hand and closed his eyes for a moment. The being then leaned forward and gently pressed its forehead against Loke’s who then opened his eyes halfway and with the last of his strength he lifted his bloody right hand and gently placed it on the side of its face. 

“At least…I got to see you…one last time, little one.” Loke closed his eyes, inhaled and for the last time exhaled. As his body went limp his hand dropped beside him, and Jelani remained perfectly still as he closed his eyes and stopped purring. He remained still for a few minutes as Loke’s body leaned on him. After a while he opened his eyes again and gently laid the lifeless body on the ground, he looked up at the sky and sighed. While still looking at the sky he reached up to his crown and grabbed one of the floating pieces of the broken side and lifted his other hand. Using the small shard, he made a cut along the middle of his palm; his blood was as black as the night sky with platinum swirled in it. He took the bloody golden shard and carefully opened Loke’s mouth and gently placed the blood-covered shard on his tongue and closed his mouth. Jelani then laid down beside his brother’s body and watched and waited.

The light of the rising morning sun broke through the horizon and as its warmth washed over his face he let out a soft groan. He sighed deeply but then suddenly he opened his eyes in a panic and stood up quickly. As he looked around in a panic, not entirely sure what he was looking for, he walked forward and bumped into a small pile of wood. He tried to slow his breathing and looked up to see Helga staring at him as she chewed on some grass, the old mare snorted and went back to eating grass, she seemed calm, almost as if nothing had happened. He looked around and saw a fire still burning, his blanket on the ground, a second blanket near his and a bag of supplies between the blankets. Suddenly Loke remembered the events that had happened though he wasn’t sure how long it’d been since it happened. He gasped loudly and checked himself for injuries, but he found he didn’t have any, he didn’t have any blood, cuts or even any scars from the injuries he received. He kept searching for any signs of injuries, injuries he was absolutely sure he had received when he faced the slayers.

“Loki, what are you doing?”

Loke turned around and he let out a shuddering gasp as he covered his mouth with one of his hands when he saw Jelani standing a few feet behind him. He looked like his usual self, not the hulking strange being he’d seen. He ran over to him and hugged him tightly, a little too tightly, as he tried to hold himself together.

“Are you alright?!”

 “Yes!” Jelani answered as he pulled himself away from Loke so he could breathe as Loke was holding him too tightly. “Are you? You’re acting strange.”

“I am.” Instinctively Loke pressed his hand to his chest as if to make sure he wasn’t injured and when he noticed he felt no pain he smiled and hugged Jelani again, a little gentler this time. “Thanks to you, I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“You–you don’t remember? You…the–” Loke looked at his brother and saw the confusion and uncertainty on his face which confused him in the process. He looked over at the tree where he had leaned on when he saw Jelani. There was no blood and the snow at the foot of the tree wasn’t disturbed at all. In fact, the more Loke looked around the more normal everything seemed, which made his confusion all the worse.

“You really don’t remember? What is the last thing you remember?”

“We were on our way to the village and along the way something scared Helga and she ran off. You fell off and when I managed to regain control of her, I came back to get you, but you said you didn’t feel well. You made camp and you went to sleep at midday and didn’t wake up until now.”

“Well…I remember falling off the horse but that’s…not what happened…” He trailed off as he realized that maybe the entire experience had been so exhausting to Jelani that maybe he forgot the events. Maybe he was still too young to retain his memories after shifting into that other form Loke saw. Whatever the reason for his lapse in memory Loke decided it was best to drop it and let it be. For now. He knew he had died; he was well aware of that fact. He may not have been in pain at the moment, but he vividly remembered what it felt like when that slayer drove that sword through his abdomen, he remembered being shot with several arrows and the burning pain of his collapsing lung and how much pain it caused him to breathe. He could still recall how much it scared and hurt him to slowly bleed to death, but the worst fear was knowing the slayers had gone after Jelani and Loke was far too injured to do anything about it. No amount of pain would make him regret dying to save his brother’s life.

As he looked at Jelani the image of that other version of him remained clearly in his mind. No matter how tall or intimidating he looked he was still his little brother. Loke didn’t know how he had come back to life, but he was absolutely sure it was thanks to Jelani, the only regret he felt was the fact that Jelani didn’t remember what he’d done for him.

“Are you really alright, Loki?”

“I really am, I promise, little one.” Loke answered with a smile and hugged Jelani again who in turn returned the hug as tightly as he could, which made Loke laugh. “Now, go untie Helga while I pick up the blankets.”

Jelani rushed over to the old mare and greeted her cheerfully as he untied her reins. Loke walked over to the blankets and rolled up Jelani’s and neatly placed it in the bag. As he reached down to grab his blanket he noticed that there was a feather on it, he picked it up and noticed it was cold to the touch but the more he looked at it the more familiar it looked. The feather was dark gray with some black details on it. All of a sudden, he remembered what his grandfather had whispered to him before he and Jelani left the village, and a wave of shock overtook him.

“Look for the frozen feathers. They’ll keep you boys safe.”

As Haakon’s words echoed in his mind Loke gasped and then stared at the feather in his hand. Technically the feather wasn’t frozen, but it was very cold. When Jelani appeared in that other form Loke had noticed a sudden drop in the temperature that made even him feel chilly. How could Haakon have known about the feather? Loke wasn’t sure but he thought it would be best if he kept it between him and his grandfather for Jelani’s safety. He looked down at the feather one more time and smiled. He neatly tied and secured it to the end of a small braid he had on the left side of his head and continued to roll up the blanket and put it in the bag. When he put out the fire, he made his way to Helga and Jelani and secured the bag on the mare and then hoisted Jelani up on the mare reserving his spot on the front so Jelani could hold on to the reins as he usually liked to do.

“Oh!” Jelani exclaimed as he looked at his brother and touched the feather he tied to his hair. “Where did that come from?”

Loke remained silent for a minute and hoped that seeing and touching the feather would jog his memory of the events but going by the look on Jelani’s face Loke was sure it didn’t work. He simply smiled and said, “I found it on my blanket.”

“It’s cold, I wonder what it belongs to.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see it someday.” Loke replied as he climbed up on the horse. Once he was sitting comfortably on it, he patted Jelani on the head and said, “Are you ready to head out?”

“Yes!”

“Then let’s go.”

[mylostlenora]

my sapphic tbr🤍 pt. 1

1. Ink Vine, Elizabeth Broadbent:

Stay the hell out of the swamp — the backwater town of Lower Congaree recites it like an eleventh commandment. But when exotic dancer Emmy Joiner sneaks under the dark tree-canopy behind her family trailer, she meets mysterious, tattooed Zara, the first girl she dares to kiss.

But the small-town South hates a woman who dares to dance instead of plucking chickens for minimum wage, and as Emmy’s life falls apart, her relationship with Zara grows more tangled and bizarre. Zara’s offering something beautiful. But while Emmy’s slowly strangling, its price may be more than she’s willing to pay.

Shifting between the green-bright cypress cathedral and the dreamland of a dance club, Broadbent’s unforgettably-voiced debut confronts the brutal realities of poverty in the South, with a sapphic tale both sultry and sinister, gritty and gothic.”

2. My Darling Dreadful Thing, Johanna Van Veen

“Roos Beckman has a spirit companion only she can see. Ruth―strange, corpse-like, and dead for centuries―is the light of Roos' life. That is, until the wealthy young widow Agnes Knoop visits one of Roos' backroom seances, and the two strike up a connection.

Soon, Roos is whisked away to the crumbling estate Agnes inherited upon the death of her husband, where an ill woman haunts the halls, strange smells drift through the air at night, and mysterious stone statues reside in the family chapel. Something dreadful festers in the manor, but still, the attraction between Roos and Agnes is undeniable.

Then, someone is murdered.

Poor, alone, and with a history of 'hysterics', Roos is the obvious culprit. With her sanity and innocence in question, she'll have to prove who―or what―is at fault or lose everything she holds dear.”

3. House of Hunger, Alexis Henderson

“A young woman is drawn into the upper echelons of a society where blood is power in this dark and enthralling Gothic novel from the author of The Year of the Witching.

Marion Shaw has been raised in the slums, where want and deprivation are all she know. Despite longing to leave the city and its miseries, she has no real hope of escape until the day she spots a peculiar listing in the newspaper seeking a bloodmaid.

Though she knows little about the far north—where wealthy nobles live in luxury and drink the blood of those in their service—Marion applies to the position. In a matter of days, she finds herself the newest bloodmaid at the notorious House of Hunger. There, Marion is swept into a world of dark debauchery. At the center of it all is Countess Lisavet.

The countess, who presides over this hedonistic court, is loved and feared in equal measure. She takes a special interest in Marion. Lisavet is magnetic, and Marion is eager to please her new mistress. But when she discovers that the ancient walls of the House of Hunger hide even older secrets, Marion is thrust into a vicious game of cat and mouse. She’ll need to learn the rules of her new home—and fast—or its halls will soon become her grave.”

4. Our Hideous Progeny, C.E. McGill

“Mary is the great-niece of Victor Frankenstein. She knows her great uncle disappeared under mysterious circumstances in the Arctic, but she doesn’t know why or how. . . .

The 1850s are a time of discovery, and London is ablaze with the latest scientific theories and debates, especially when a spectacular new exhibition of dinosaur sculptures opens at the Crystal Palace. Mary is keen to make her name in this world of science alongside her geologist husband, Henry—but despite her sharp mind and sharper tongue, without wealth and connections their options are limited.

When Mary discovers some old family papers that allude to the shocking truth behind her great-uncle’s past, she thinks she may have found the key to securing her and Henry’s professional and financial future. Their quest takes them to the wilds of Scotland; to Henry’s intriguing but reclusive sister, Maisie; and to a deadly chase with a rival who is out to steal their secret.”

[blueiscoool]

The Getty Museum Return Ancient Bronze Head to Turkey

A life-sized bronze head of a young man has been removed from view by the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles and will be returned to Turkey after the institution learned it was illegally excavated.

The head had been in the antiquities collection at the Getty Villa Museum since it was acquired in 1971. But the museum said it had received new information from the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office in New York indicating it had been illegally excavated.

The California museum did not reveal what new information had come to light about the excavation, and officials in New York did not yet respond to a request for information. The head has been removed from view until it can be handed over to Turkish officials.

“In light of new information recently provided by Matthew Bogdanos and the Antiquities Trafficking Unit of the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office indicating the illegal excavation of this bronze head, we agreed that the object needed to be returned to Türkiye,” museum director Timothy Potts said in a statement.

The district attorney’s office did not immediately respond to a request for comment about the details of its investigation.

The Getty Museum said that its policies are to return objects to the country of their origin or modern discovery when reliable information indicates they were stolen or illegally excavated. In 2022, the museum returned a cache of artworks to Italy after learning that they were linked to disgraced antiquities dealer Gianfranco Becchina.

The bronze head dates to somewhere between 100 B.C.E and 100 C.E. and is a separately cast component of a life-size figure, detached from the body at the upper neck. The eyes were once inlaid with an unknown material that was not preserved. Researchers have not yet identified the body of the figure. The subject of the figure also remains elusive as it was fabricated in a “highly idealized” style and has not been matched to a member of an imperial family or other named individual, the museum said, although an inscribed alpha (“A”) is visible on the interior of the neck at the bottom rear edge.

Some scholars have associated the bronze head with the archaeological site of Bubon, in the Burdur province of southwestern Turkey. Bubon was subjected to illicit excavations in the late 1960s.

Potts added that by returning the head to Turkey, the museum seeks to continue building a constructive relationship with the Turkish Ministry of Culture archaeological colleagues in the country.

In total, the Manhattan District Attorney’s antiquities trafficking unit has recovered more than 4,500 antiquities stolen from 30 countries with a value in excess of $410 million since it was launched in 2017.

By Adam Schrader.

[thomasce]

Project Windchill: WIP intro (Updated)

Project Windchill is the project title of an ongoing multichapter duology. Here's what you need to know!

This is the journey of Jeremy Elden - a young, previously-normal college student - to bring down the systems that oppress his newfound friends (and himself). He wasn't aware that he would belong to a community that wasn't even supposed to exist.

In the face of adversity and oppression from the powers in place, Jeremy must learn to control the new power burning through him - almost literally - as he grows to accept that the authorities in his life had no idea how to prepare him for something like this. How could they when they didn't even know a situation like this was possible? Now, he is relearning everything about the world from friends and mentors - both new and old.

Can he live up to being their chosen one? Can he be the foretold savior? Or will he crumble under the pressure? Will he fail the people he has grown to care for?

Everyone knows there are 12 months in a full year. 365.25 days to the Earth's rotation. But what if that's only part of a much bigger picture? In this world, there are 15 months, but only 5% of the world's population seems to be aware. The other 95% are sleeping away, controlled by the global powers through means that are artificial intelligence nature. Forced into a deep sleep, these people lose three months of their year to an uncontested war.

Details:

Genre: Adult speculative fiction novel

Setting: Midland, Michigan

Themes: fighting against oppression, freedom of expression, self-discovery

Content Warnings: character death, explicit and graphic depictions of violence

Features: LGBTQ+ protagonist and supporting cast, multiracial cast

Status: Draft 1 (Chapter 4/22)

Projected Release Date: TBD

Main Character

Jeremy Elden (21) - a spirited college student. His new kid status hasn't gotten him many friends in the rebellion, but his place in the prophecy definitely does.

Supporting Cast

David Marino (22) - A young man with a strange fascination - Jeremy. What started as hero worship becomes quiet endearment as he comes to realize that Jeremy is nothing more than a human disaster.

Quincy Jackson (23) - A human lie detector. They are also Jeremy's best friend, having met him in college. Jeremy never would have suspected that his friend would be expecting him to save the world.

Terry Jackson (27) - The brute force powerhouse of the Rebellion and Quincy's buffer, hotter older brother. He is the "body" to Quincy's "soul", the two being nearly inseparable despite the age difference.

Antagonists

Beelzebub (19) - A master tactician. Despite his young age, he commands the Extermination Task Force of the United States government. Though, that isn't as interesting as him being a mutant himself.

Samael (18) - A boy that burns with the fury of angels. He knows how to kill quickly and silently, just as any avenging angel should. Not that he enjoys so much death. It's a shame that he doesn't have much of a choice.

Navigation

WIP Page: TBA

Main Tag: #project : windchill

Project updates: #pro:wind updates

About the Author

C.E. Thomas is a writer with an interest in mythology and conspiracy theories. While they do not believe in these stories, they love incorporating them into their works. They write mainly for fun, as their degree is in the S.T.E.M. field.

[blodgmonster]

Blodg Monster's best books of 2023!!!!

No one reads these but I don't care!!!!

Another Day in the Death of America by Gary Younge

Glow in the Fucking Dark by Tara Schuster

More Than A Body by Lindsey and Lexie Kite

Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie

A Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon

The Book of Hope by Jane Goodall and Douglas Abrams

Circe by Madeline Miller

Galatea by Madeline Miller

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

The Running Grave by JK Rowling (look, she's a good author. Sue me)

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo

Honorable Mentions

Esperanza Rising by Pam Munoz Ryan

Reluctant Immortals by Gwendolyn Kiste

The Men by Sandra Newman

To Break a Covenant by Alison Ames

Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Spare by Prince Harry

The Witch's Book of Self-Care by Arin Hiscock-Murphey

Our Hideous Progeny by C.E. Gill

Light Bringer by Pierce Brown

Our Crooked Hearts by Melissa Albert

Go Goddess Girl by Elaine Berkowitz

Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros

Wings of Fire: The Brightest Night by Tui T. Sutherland

Wings of Fire: Moon Rising by Tui T. Sutherland

Wings of Fire: The Poison Jungle by Tui T. Sutherland (saw a lot of idiots giving this book one star ratings because there are gay dragons. FIVE STARS FOR THE GAY DRAGONS!!!)

I wish you all happy reading in 2024

[incendiorum]

A SHORT GLOSSARY OF TERMS, NAMES, ETC. these may often be mentioned by me or io. anything in here is considered canonical to io’s lore and can be disregarded if they clash with other lore. not alphabetical, but organized to keep relevant things together.

THE HOUNDS. a group of supernatural hunters that has been operating since 383 C.E. they are led by col salvienus, and have major footholds in six continents. main headquarters are located in france.

COL SALVIENUS. io’s son and the leader of the hounds, as well as CEO to venator shipping company. io and col are no longer on good terms, and have not been for centuries. col believes that io is dangerous and should be killed. he wavers from this path a lot, but always finds it again. he is not redeemable, and sees himself as a hero.

VENATOR SHIPPING COMPANY. the oldest shipping company in the world, and created by col. he is the current CEO. azzy is his COO.

AKA ELIJAH ‘AZZY’ ARAKAKI. publicly, azzy is the staggeringly young COO of venator shipping company. privately, he is a supernatural hunter who is second-in-command to col salvienus. while he handles a lot of the behind the scenes work, azzy is not afraid to get his hands dirty and hunt. despite being human, he is very good at holding his own against a wide variety of supernatural threats.

AKA SASKIA ROSCA. the hounds do not keep many nonhumans within their ranks, as col often uses any opportunity he can to get permanently get rid of them. saskia is one of the few, and is kept around because she’s a decently powerful witch who specializes in the trapping and siphoning of other’s magic. part of azzy's carefully selected group of hounds.

WQX 1440 BOSTON. an AM radio station with special operate-at-night privileges (clear channel). WQX boston is a herald for supernatural news around the world, and this news is only available starting at 11 PM EST. the host is very good at gathering information on supernatural events, people, and hunters. scarily good, to the point that they often tip nonhumans off about hunters who might be getting close to them. after iovita, WQX boston’s host is the hounds ‘most wanted.’

EDEN. the nighttime host of WQX boston. not much is known about them.

QUASAR, ORION, and MARS. the daytime hosts of WQX boston. not much is known about them, either. 

NO ENTRY. a private, supernatural-only club in los angeles. it is very hard to get an invite, as the owner only offers a limited number once or twice a year. each prospective patron must be thoroughly vetted beforehand, and are on probation within the club for a year. any funny business results in a lifetime ban, at best. death, at worst (thanks, bartenders).

LOUIS RUSSEL. the owner of no entry. he was once a low-level witch, but was turned into a vampire. the interesting combo has made him crave both the blood and magic of others. he rarely leaves no entry out of fear.

VENADEUS VIII. iovita’s biological father (this is unknown to them). he is a cult god of violent magic, and is known to be as cruel as he is uncaring. as dictated by his bloodline and the venadeus before him (and the venadeus before her, and so on) he is desperate for io to die and become venadeus ix.

LATONA. a witch who is just as powerful as iovita, but uses her power mostly for healing. she’s ~200 years older than iovita, and was born in roman africa. when she was married, her husband was cruel. latona created the magic to shapeshift herself into a hyena and kill him. since she still retains this secondary form, she has been known as bonebreaker in some places. found family (sister) when it comes to her relationship with io.

SABINA AMADIO. io’s biological half-sister. there is currently no knowledge on her current status - iovita doesn’t even know if she’s alive or dead. all the know is that they left her behind when they ran from home, and they feel guilt about it every day.

CELAENA and GAIUS. mater and pater, if referred to by io. long deceased. celaena is io's birth mother, and gaius is their non-biological father. due to their status as low-level magic users, they latched onto io's significant well of power when they were young, and greedily used it for their own gain.

LUCIUS SALVIENUS. col’s father and once iovita’s husband. col murdered him a long time ago and took over the group of hunters that lucius had led. lucius was more focused on peace through peaceful means. col is also focused on peace, through violent means.

WILL HOWE. another one of iovita’s past lovers. he was, most notably, a painter, and turned to it often as a form of coping. he died at sea.

AVICE GRIFFON and THE GRIFFON FAMILY. the griffons are a renowned family of witches living in england. avice griffon, in particular, is an ex of iovita’s. their relationship did not work, and both parties have very different stories about how it ended. iovita’s is the correct one, but avice’s family only heard her side, and subsequently loathes iovita.