#impaled chest

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 17: Human Shield / Impaled Chest

@febuwhump prompt Alt 1: Human Shield @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Impaled Chest

[No Fandom: Original Fiction] Characters: Chase Aelderward Word Count: ~1080 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Chase visits the Dry Markets and witnesses a replay of events from years gone by.

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“Just ignore them. They can’t harm you.”

“Are they ghosts?”

“Not really. More like echoes.”

Chase peered in wide-eyed fascination at the spectral figure, shimmering silver-blue and translucent as it moved through a pile of rubble; tracing a path between furniture long-since lost, in a building long-since destroyed.

“They just play out their lives, over and over,” the merchant told him. “Come back tomorrow, you can follow a different one. There’s plenty of them.”

The ghost, or echo, moved into the bright afternoon sun and faded to almost-transparency. Reaching out a curious hand, Chase brushed his fingertips through the figure and was surprised to feel nothing. He had expected a chill, or some sort of ectoplasmic residue.

“It’s considered bad luck to touch them,” the merchant added. “Go make an offering at the shrine. I’m sure you’ll be okay.”

Tossing a coin to the man, Chase did as he was bid. The shine was unmissable, a sprawling mass of flowers and food and incense that occupied the raised plaza beneath a statue of a dragon. The young adventurer stopped for a while, squinting against the sun to inspect the figure that towered at the top of the carved stone obelisk. Plenty of the statues around the ruined city were destroyed. This one was surprisingly intact.

Even the ghosts were moving among the tributes, bending down to place their own offerings from years gone by. Chase wondered if it was a tradition that had never been forgotten, or if it was one that the market-dwellers had restarted after seeing the spirits of the past play it out as they went about the memories of their former lives.

“You’re new in town,” another vendor greeted him. Chase grinned.

“What gave me away?”

“Eh,” the man shrugged, “you can always tell who hasn’t seen them before. More interested in them than the wares.”

“Don’t you find it interesting?”

“It’s the same scene every day, kid. You come here as regular as I do, you get used to it.”

Chase traded a handful of copper coins for a dubious-looking vegetable skewer, and the chance to stand under the shade of the man’s awning. “Why do they persist?”

“Beats me. You’ll find them all over the city. Leading theory is, they stick where the memories are strongest.”

“How do you mean?”

“Y’know. Saturated with emotion.” The vendor gave him a sceptical look. “You’ll see soon enough. Just stay out their way when it happens.”

“When what happens?”

“The killing.”

--

The change happened in silence; all their movement happened in silence. One minute the spectres were going about their pre-set day. Then heads turned, a ripple of panic went through the silent crowd. Some of the living denizens of the market stopped and stood to one side to watch. Others carried on their business, haggling and trading – they had seen it before, and the stampede of spirits did not disturb their day.

The blighted came with spears and knives and rending hands and biting teeth. Only echoes themselves, but the brutality with which they tore into the ghostly market-goers meant it did not take much imagination to think of the sound of splitting flesh and breaking bodies. They fell on the other spirits, a frenzy of violence, all acted out without a single sound.

Chase quickly realised that the living market-vendors had positioned their stalls out of the way of the echoes death throes. Nobody wanted to be touched by the flailing spirits. He weaved through a knot of customers who had clustered out of reach of the theatrics and climbed a broken-down wall, finding a safe vantage to watch the chaos.

It was over before long, the spectres now lying motionless on the ground. Slowly life returned to the market – customers began weaving between stalls once more, voices were raised to hawk for sales.

Chase hopped back to the ground and grabbed a passer-by. “What happens now?”

“What do you mean, what happens?” she asked in confusion.

“To the ghosts,” he said, indicating a translucent body nearby.

“They just… stay there. ‘Til midnight. Then they fade, and they do it all again tomorrow.” She shook him off. “Don’t interfere with them. Go make an offering if you’re feeling bad about it.”

After that Chase wandered the market aimlessly, barely taking in the merchants and their magical wares. In his head he tallied the spectral bodies. Hundreds, just in this one place. He began to appreciate the scale of the blight that brought down the empire hundreds of years ago.

It was sunset when he found her, the light filtering gold-red through the dust of the market. A female figure, on her knees, hunched over almost to the floor and cradling a bundle to her chest. The long shaft of a spear protruded from the back of her rib-cage, impaling her cleanly through the chest.

The market was quieter now, people packing down and heading home for the evening. With fewer eyes on him, Chase dropped to his heels and peered into the spectre’s face, reaching one hand up to try and brush her hair back and muttering a curse when his fingers passed straight through.

She was young, younger perhaps even than him. Behind ghostly tear-tracks her glazed eyes were fixed on the bundle in her arms, a sad smile on her lips.

A flicker of movement. A shimmering arm waving from her cradled treasure.

Chase watched in silence as the echo of the baby struggled in his mother’s dead arms. He couldn’t see the infants face. Wondered to himself if the babe had been crying all this time, unheard, unaided. Not knowing that their mother’s final act had been one of sacrifice – that her body had taken the spear, and sheltered her child from harm.

Chase brushed his fingertips through the echo-baby’s open hand. He wondered if any survivors had returned to the market-place and found this miracle sight after the day’s massacre.

He wondered if the baby had followed its mother to death soon after.

The sun had dropped, and night true set in before he moved from that spot. All around him the silent spirits of the dead shone bright, no sunlight now to hide their inner glow.

He stopped at the shrine before he left, brushed his fingers that had touched but not-touched the child’s hand against the obelisk. Whispered a prayer to gods he was not sure he believed in.

He didn’t stop thinking about the sight for a long time.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

just a woman and her arsonist son

[ewwww-what]

Hey girl, what the fuck is your problem?

[slimeshade]

I missed dragon appreciation day, so I'm late with... this concept

[avoidmint]

What keeps me together?

[rowarn]

been watching vikings the last few days with @sgtgarricks and every time ragnar does smthn i think of viking!simon doin the same thing ......

[whumpshaped]

found a video of the worst torture/execution methods in history ! sooo happy to see many of my own fav torture methods on here. the rat bowl is my favourite :) but im very very fond of the honey&milk boat ride and the gibbet. video below the cut for anyone whos interested. the graphics r pretty intense tho w lots of gore

[esteemed-excellency]

guy who is simultaneously gomez and morticia

[carveredlunds]

— The Woman Dies (insp. and insp.)

[foxprints]

Whumptober 2022 No.3 : Impaled

[madnessofthespirits]

i get that with this backdrop you’re probably supposed to imagine them as idols or something but no. 2 me they are rassling

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Theory: If Messmer is Marika’s sword (spear), Godwyn is her shield.

Yes I made another doomed Mother & Son presentation slide: eldest sons edition 🙏😔

EDIT 1: adding a bit to this, the theme music of Godwyn's Death Knight is a rearrangement of Erdtree Knight OST (aka Tree Sentinels theme)

(Messmer’s timeline) (discussion of Radagon’s shady behavior)

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

im so normal about deaths in double life (lying)

[mrcrepsley]

Actually it's good that that post specifically blew up because now lots of people are talking about their favs being hurt and molested (beautiful) so thank you 🙏 also I looked up Rufus and he has such a hurtable face omg

truly a beautiful way to bring all the sickos together!

and i know i want to do unspeakable things to this boy.

[sillyroundkatie]

Artfight 2023 attack #6 for GalahadFortress!

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