Category: Uncategorized
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Dionys sat on the nearby shoreline, watching the sunset over the Myrian and thinking. Alessia had fallen asleep again, much to Stella’s annoyance and mild distress. Odrian had calmed the child down, and she was busy building rock towers as she hummed to herself near the tent. And Odrian himself headed toward the beach, carrying…
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Dawn arrived softly. The camp stirred, the clamor of soldiers rising from their bedrolls, their armor clanking, voices spilling into the morning air. But within their tent, for now, there was quiet. Alessia slept, her breathing steady, her fever chased away into memory. Dionys remained at her back, stoic as ever—though his fingers absently traced…
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Alessia drifted in and out of consciousness. The pain was a dull, throbbing constant, the damage deep. Every breath was a struggle, every movement sent pulses of agony through her. By midday, she was afire with fever. Odrian and Dionys did everything right—cleaning and stitching the wounds, keeping her warm and hydrated, making sure Stella…
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Alessia forced herself to remain still, as her heart hammered in her chest, flooding her veins with adrenaline. The urge to force herself up into a defensive stance was nearly overwhelming. She knew damn well that moving could bring fatal consequences for both herself and Stella. The little girl curled tighter into Dionys’ side, going…
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Odrian and Dionys were on their feet in an instant. “Stella!” Odrian screamed. Both men rushed toward the tent, their weapons drawn as they pushed past one another to reach the women first. A shadow detached itself from the tent and fled into the darkness. Dionys and Odrian exchanged one look—a single, wordless understanding—before Dionys…
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Later, Dionys returned to the tent to find that Alessia had moved just enough to grab Queen Dottie and her sewing kit from her satchel. He paused just inside the entrance, taking in the scene: Alessia’s needle flashing, the doll’s limbs neatly pinned, thread reinforcing worn joints. He exhaled through his nose. “Most wounded soldiers…
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“Why won’t this Greene guy answer his DAMN COMM!?” Frisk jumped awake at the angry shout, heart pounding in her chest and magic flaring to life at her fingertips, anxiety molding it to form. As the words echoed in the cargo hold her panic faded, smothered under a blanket of alert calm and awareness. Some of…
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Frisk watched the spaceport from her hiding place among pallets and shipping crates waiting to be loaded. Her stomach twisted with anxiety at the sheer number of people around her, the open space. Every time someone came too close to her hiding spot, Frisk flinched away, back into the shadows. She jumped at any sound…
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—Red— Red snorted as he read Sans’ misspelled name on his cup of coffee. “ ‘sands’, eh?” They’d left The Parlor and were again walking the paths of the park, Red trying to make aimless conversation as he built up the nerve to break the question. “it’s course, rough, and irritatin’,” Sans answered with a…
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—Red— Red held the café door open for Sans, noting how hard his counterpart was shivering with a frown. “y’shoulda worn a thicker coat,” Red commented as they took their place at the back of the queue. “yer shakin’ like a fuckin’ maraca.” “it’s the s-song of my p-people,” Sans snarked back as his teeth…
Tiny Raven 