Post A Chapter You Like-Please Read Below

Edit: Changed topic to Share Your Story since it makes sense.

I believe this is the right topic

Forgive me if it isn’t

Alright, this is gonna be a repost of an original thread.

Please follow these rules below.

Post a chapter you completed.

Make sure it is in the hide details options like this.


Post story etc

You can comment on whichever one you like. This isn’t a place of critiquing, but being exposed to different styles of writing for fun ^^. So it is also a discussion.

Please enjoy.

No links.

I should add that anyone can post.

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This sounds fun :slight_smile: Is this part of a book club, or can anyone post?

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Anyone can post. Reason why I said I wasn’t sure lol

The book club seems close enough to what I wanted to say.

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Guidance of the Lost - 1800 Words Short Story


“They will claim your life, for their guidance comes at a heavy price. Spoken tongues of long forgotten will carve a path worthy of a King, red gravel for a carpet. But it is painted by your blood, for the colour is the life you lose with every step!” the story-teller warned.

A storm’s song of lightning drums ended his sentence. The tavern was painted by shades of light blue seeping through ornate windows, dancing shadows of dozens eavesdropping on his tales from the walls behind.

The chair of one shifted in nervousness, and the screech drew all the attention to the culprit. He lifted an arm, and dared not speak until allowed. But his gesture caused curiosity, and the story-teller nodded as a sign of approval.

“Where do they guide?”

Contrary to his emotions, his voice was firm and his eyes determined. His manner and posture gave away his nobility, but he was not hiding it, for everyone else was of the same rank.

“What does your heart crave? Does your hand itch for the touch of gold, or does your body long for the caress of a maiden? They will guide you where you most desire it.”

“Who are they?”

A frown painted displeasure. The story-teller did not grant his consent, but the spectator’s outburst was quickly forgiven with a bow of his head.

“The Lost.”


Golden light chased away the moon, and the dark sky turned into an ocean. Ships of white traversed its waters, and they pointed whence they set sails.

The smell of rain was still faint. Puddles burbled from birds taking a morning bath and the wind carried a wondrous chill, halting advance upon meeting a tall structure.

A creak of the tavern’s wooden door signalled the first one’s departure from the settlement. The noble raised an arm above his eyebrows and squinted towards the clouds. The darkness ate away at his vision and the light was in the process of restoring it.

Many sought wealth, power, and there are few who wished for immortality. But only the noble desired to honour the Lost with his presence. He wanted knowledge.

‘There are no two wishes of identical weight.’

The story-teller’s words still rung in his head. They spoke of the signs pointing to a path, and the clouds were the first trial.

‘You may be granted more than a wish, but nevermore may your steps cross your own blood, should you turn tail.’

He learned the story-teller had met them, and he came out alive. None dared ask what he craved, in fear that they would meet more than a frown.

‘We are allowed to speak of the signs, but not of where they lead. Should you prove you are worthy, only then will they consider opening your path.’

The nobleman stared unceasingly at the clouds. They moved in the same direction, at the same speed, no matter the size or distance. The tavern, inn for the rich, was his place of rest. Place where he would spend his days and nights watching the sky. A rocking chair and a glass that was always filled with wine were his only companions during the test.

And he noticed it. During the fourth night, the moon stood whole. The crickets bore witness to his discovery, for they sung their ballads as the giant’s light pierced a cloud. The noble stood up, unsure of his final answer, and looked around the rest of the sky. There were no clouds, or maybe there were. But he could not see them.

‘Their path does not lie on this realm! The clouds go elsewhere during dark, and so must I!’ he exclaimed.

He emptied the rest of the glass and proceeded to a bed. Neatly folded covers and blankets sat on its end. He allowed no step to protrude the entrance to his room, keeping the bed the same way he found it. Falling asleep on the chair with a glass of wine, and watching the sky to the night’s music was a pleasant experience. But it wouldn’t compare to quenching his thirst for knowledge.

The alcohol assisted his descent into slumber. His head considered the stacked covers for a pillow. The soft cushion underneath was like an embrace and his breathing turned ambient music.


He stood from a bed, for his eyes to dart around the room he went to sleep in. It was completely dark, with no light from outside. Dazed by the display, he stood in place only to arrive to the conclusion that nothing happened. He went to his chair and sat by the window, prepared to light a candle. But clouds parted from the moon, and gave way to a crimson shine.

The forest lost its shade of green and turned completely black. The red moon’s light was being devoured by the vegetation underneath, and he witnessed everything as it took place.

Splitting the woods into two, there was a gravel path stopping just before the forest. That gravel path, he must walk with his life on the line. And he brought himself up from his chair with the story-teller’s words in mind.

‘Am I worthy…’ he thought.

“Am I worthy to walk your path?!” he shouted to the woods.

kra dvulilnyur

A deep voice shook his intestines, as if an earthquake was taking place inside of his stomach.

dor maeldvul

He pinpointed the source, its lasting echo reverberating his hearing. The source was the end of the gravel path, but there was no one.

He left his room and navigated the empty tavern. There were no souls in sight, nor was there any sound. There were not even crickets, and it was only when he considered noise that he noticed.

Opening the tavern’s wooden door, the path elongated in front of him. Crimson light robbed his attention, and he stared up at the giant. Its shine did not hurt his eyes, and the sight was almost mesmerising.

Both fear and excitement shook the noble’s body. A fierce battle took place inside of him, for he was not sure if he should proceed or turn back. He took a step forward on the gravel path, and behind him the path soaked crimson. There were no cuts on his body, and there was no different feeling, but the story-teller certainly told that it was his own blood.

“I… I wish to meet you face-to-face. And I want to have my questions answered!” his voice became the wind in the scarce land.

He walked to the end of the path, and behind him the gravel turned a red carpet.

krol, dva

The voice spoke right before him, no shape coming in sight.

“Noble, speak.” the voice invited with its tone.

“I want knowledge. I want to know what you are, how you came to be, and what is your purpose. I want to know the price for learning of the world’s wonders. Why the sky and ocean are blue, why the birds sing, and I want to know about life and death.”

As his words took form, the path elongated into the woods and out of view.

“In order to find out who we are, you must find out who you are. Your questions may be answered, but there will be no turning back.”

“Will… I die?”


“Then I want immortality.”

A laughter shook the the lands. They already knew he would ask for a prolonged life, but it was amusing nonetheless.

“You may be granted immortality, but there will be no turning back.”


He turned quiet for a few moments before asking the most light-weighted question he could think of.

“Why do birds sing?”

“A kingdom can not have two Kings.”

The noble’s mouth laid agape, unsure of what he just heard.

“The forest was too great for a kingdom, and it split apart. Birds are their rulers, and their weapon of choice to defend their kingdoms is their song.”

“That makes no sense…”

“It is a peaceful way to resolve conflict, but some deviate from the rule. The headless birds beneath kingdoms of foliage are former Kings. Their homes were pillaged.”

The noble shivered when he realised what the dead birds were and that they did not die during flight. His former romantic view on the forest’s song departed and made way for an undescribable feeling in expectation for what else the world might be hiding.

‘The Lost’ were setting him up to ask as many questions as possible. He realised it the moment they mentioned the ‘rule’, but he couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Who set that rule in place?” he asked in a shy voice.

“The birds’ ancestors.”

“How?” his tone turned annoyed.

He did not mean to continue on with the questions, but their answer turned his beliefs upside down. He was expecting them to mention a deity, or something that would make even less sense than what they just said.

“Songs, clashes of their strength, were not always part of their wars. They used their claws and beaks, bathing the kingdoms in blood, but they were granted a new way of resolving conflict. And their ancestors set the rule to make use of it.”

The more he heard, the more interested he was. It was a tale just as interesting as the story-teller’s, if not greater in that aspect. They said that the birds were granted their song, and an itch picked pace on the tip of the noble’s tongue.

“Who granted them their song?” he asked, delight decorating his face.

“There will be no turning back.”

He turned gaze to the darkness, the path following at the bottom of the vision, and wondered.

“What lays at the end of the path?”

“Return to the mortal realm. But it comes at the cost of a wish.”

“How heavy is the price?”

“As heavy as your desire for it.”


“Why is the sky blue?”

“There will be no turning back.”

The answer shocked him. His eyebrows curved and his thoughts ran wild. It couldn’t possibly be as heavy as asking if there is a deity.

‘Or could it?’ he wondered, getting frustrated from the lack of an answer.

“Why is the ocean blue?”

“There will be no turning back.”

He was certain something must have happened. His thinking allowed him to consider a grim possibility.

“What was the price for my questions?”

“Forty years.”

He frowned. It was too great of a price, and it was too late to regret. But there was still an option left. A wish he could regret only after finding out everything else. A thirst was still plaguing him, tempting him to step forward, and deviate from a former warning.

" Then I want immortality. "


This sounds interesting :slight_smile:

I was Adam’s wife, nothing more, nothing less. I was the perfect wife, ever the obedient, always patient. I did everything they told me to do–everything he told me to do, but in the end, none of it mattered.

My name is Eve, and I just got kicked out of Heaven.

First chapter

Hell is not hot.

There is no unquenchable heat. The ground does not run with rivers of lava as the sky rains down fire and brimstone. There are no deafening screams of the tortured–all is quiet. It’s an unnatural quiet, a quiet that fills my head with cotton and makes me want to scream just so I can hear anything, anything at all.

I stare at the sky, still in shock and only semi-conscious. Miles above me, a grey storm circles, its pregnant clouds rolling over each other as every so often whips of lightning fling themselves around like they own the place.

There is no thunder.

Ash falls from the clouds like snow, and I stick my tongue out to catch it. I half sob and half laugh as I taste the bitterness, feel it clump in my mouth and stick to my teeth. I feel the rough stone steps I lay on tear into my back. Every breath I take goes down like an old whiskey. This is real, I think. God help me. Reality hits me in the chest with a spiked club, and my laughter becomes more of an asthma attack than a proclamation of joy. I laugh so hard I can’t breathe, but even my laughter has no sound, Hell steals it right from my mouth. God isn’t going to help me. He let this happen. He let his son do this to me.

Anger gives me strength. I painstakingly pick myself up, teetering on my shaking legs. A strong gust of wind howls past and nearly blows me over the edge. My arms pinwheel, but there’s nothing to hold onto, nothing to lean against. The staircase is thin and narrow; I gulp when I look over the side, letting out a soft, “Oh dear.”

It’s freezing and my only protection against the elements is a thin silk dress that reaches mid-thigh. The biting wind throws my hair around my face, obscuring my view. My flesh goose-pimples and I can feel the telltale tightness of my nipples pebbling. A flash of pain runs its fingers down my back as I pull my wings out, covering my body in its warm feathery embrace. Oh thank God, my wings are still here.

Tearing off a silk strip from my dress, I roughly pull my hair away from my face. I’m somewhere high on a staircase, so high up I can sweep my gaze across Hell’s scape, looking down at the land like God himself. There are mountains covered in ash. Craters that run through the stone ground like scars, filled with thick green, puss colored slime. Still no sign of the trapped souls. I gulp. I know they’re here somewhere. I don’t dare close my eyes though. I turn around, looking up the stairs, trying to catch my bearings.

For the first time, I smile in genuine happiness.

I know where I am.

It’s strange, knowing where I am in Hell. It suggests familiarity, it suggests I’ve been here before, that I’m not totally lost and angry and confused. I’ve lived my days out in Heaven for crying out loud, I shouldn’t recognize anything in Hell, but I do. I remember the stories Luci would tell me of this place. As I look up at the faraway stronghold that rests at the top of the steps, a strange feeling infuses my blood…a glow. It lifts me, makes me feel lighter.

It takes me a second to label this feeling.

It’s hope.

It’s hope that Luci can send me back. Back to my home.

Determination lends its strength to my bones. I strenuously put one foot in front of the other, walking up the seemingly endless steps, fighting against the wind that worsens the higher I climb. Come on Eve, I think. Just one foot in front of the other. Come on. One. Two. One. Two. One. Two. One. Two. One. Two. One. T– “Ow!” I rub my head, looking at the pillar I just walked into with fuzzy trepidation.

I’ve reached the Throne of Hell. Now I just need to find its King.

Looking up, I feel like an ant among giants. A jagged, asymmetrical stone stronghold rises from the gravity-defying platform and disappears into the storm above. Lighting periodically hits the sides of the crumbling towers. Two roman pillars line the open entrance on each side, fat on the bottom but thinning at the top.

It’s not beautiful.

It’s magnificent, clearly made to stand its ground against the ancient enemy of time.

I lean against the pillar I collided with in my distraction, tracing a spot of blood on the ridged stone. My blood. I register distantly.

Move. You’re so close, you need to get to Luci. So close, so close. Come on Eve! I stumble up the last few steps. Holding my breath, I walk through the massive arched entrance.

Everything’s exactly as I pictured it. It’s bleak and grey like the world outside. Statues of demons line the cracked walls, the weak light from the entrance only makes this place all the more ominous by pointing out its shadows.

Everything’s exactly as I pictured it, except for one thing: the Throne is empty. The light inside me gets snuffed out by the calloused fingers of despair.

I collapse on the floor, still staring at the cold, empty, iron Throne. No, I think. Nonononononono. My breath gets faster, my vision dances with black spots. Even in the chilling cold, I’m sweating rivers, I can feel my hair plastered to my neck.

“Luci…” I sob. “Where–where are y-you? I–I can’t do th–this.” The stone absorbs my tears, and the souls trapped in the walls awaken with a fury at my cries.

Let me out! Let me out!

I didn’t mean to kill her! I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.

I don’t deserve this. I deserve this.

I hurt, I hurt. I didn’t want to do it. I did it. I did it.

I scream, clamping my hands over my ears as my wings cover me like a war fortress. It does little to help though, their shrieking cries chipping away at my sanity bit by bit. “Stop!” I scream back. “Stop! I’m sorry!” I’m shaking, adrenaline rooting me to the floor. I just want to go home.

“SILENCE!” The deep, commanding voice stomps out the souls sobbing immediately. "WHO DARES ENTER-- Eve?"

I slowly peek over the tops of my trembling wings. Am I hallucinating? “…Luci?” I blink again, harder. He’s still there in all his glory: red, leathery skin, protruding ribs, bald head and scarred face. His legs are the signature goat legs, white fur, hoves and all. Two ram horns arch from his forehead. His eyes glow crimson, and giant coal-black, bat-like wings protrude from his back.

He’s beautiful.

“Lucifer!” I trip over my wings in my haste to get to him. He doesn’t come any closer, but he doesn’t move back either. He’s looking at me in shock, mouth opening and closing; it’s a rare show of emotion. I throw my arms around him and hook my legs around the back of his thighs, latching on like the leach that I am. Nestling my face into The Devil’s neck, I whisper, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Gently prying me off him, he sets me on the ground, gripping my shoulders. “Eve darling, it really is you! I haven’t seen you since…how long has it been?” He tries to soften his voice for my sake, but it still sounds like Mount Everest colliding with K2 every time he talks.

I laugh. “A couple thousand years.”

“Ah, so not too long then.”

A moment passes between us in silence. Running the back of a claw over the cut on my head, he softly asks, “What are you doing here, love? This place is not for you.” He grins, or tries to. The scar that runs through the side of his mouth makes it so his lips are perpetually frowning. “Though the visit is always welcome.”

I make an effort to be brave and smile, I really do, but in the end, it doesn’t matter and my shaky smile dissolves into a flood of tears. Lucifer awkwardly pats my head. “Eve darling, what’s wrong?”

“God, y-you are t-the worst at-at showing a-affection. Just-just hug me already.” I absorb my wings back into my body and with an all-suffering sigh, he slowly slides his arms around me, slightly too tight.

“Let’s not bring Dear Old Dad into this.” He shushes me, gently patting my back like a mother trying to burp her baby. “Start from the beginning.”

I keep it short and simple, not wanting to drag this out longer than necessary. I just want to go home. “Michael caught me having an…affair with…Lilith.”

“Lilith? Lilith the demon Goddess? Your husband’s first wife?”

“Who else? She understands what it’s like to be married to Adam and we had a bonding moment…several bonding moments.” To be honest, I’ve always been a little jealous of her. She’s her own person while I am literally made out of my husband’s rib. I’m a walking, talking, rib bone.

And people sure as Hell don’t let me forget that.

I take a deep breath and blurt it all out. “Micheal banished me to Hell on charges of infidelity and consorting with Evil. He…he told me that God forgave me the first time, but asking forgiveness for the same crime done a second time is well…unforgivable.”

Cursing in the angelic language, Lucifer spins around and punches a hole through the stone wall. His pupils are expanded as he turns back around, his chest heaving. “He. Did. What?” He forgets to soften his voice, but it doesn’t scare me. It never did.

“Luci! Calm down.” I take his clenched fist in the palm of my hand. Running my fingers over the ridges of his knuckles I note the unbroken skin–he’s fine. I can’t say the same for the poor wall though; a three-foot crater pockmarks its surface. “Luci,” I place my hands on either side of his face. “You can just send me back, right?”

Luci ignores me and starts pacing, muttering to himself. “That rat bastard. He did this to get back at me. I’ll rip his wings off and shove them up his–”

“Luci!” My yell startles him out of whatever hole he was spiraling into. “You can just send me back, right?” I repeat.

His eyes glow red in anger, but I know him. I see the tension pulling at the corners of his eyes, the wrinkle in his brow and the slight pursing of his lips. Under all that rage, he hides sadness. Sadness for me. I gulp nervously and pull his head down to my level, griping his face tight. “…Right?” He closes his eyes and plucks my hands off his face. He turns around and looks at the new crater blankly, his wings flexing and unflexing as he attempts to reign his anger in.

His voice is cold when he says, “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Eve.”

It feels like the ground gives out from beneath me, a yawning abyss ready to swallow me whole at seconds notice. “But–”

“Celestials,” Lucifer interrupts, “are supposed to stay out of the affairs of mortals. We do not interfere with their fates–Micheal had no right to banish you, and now the scales will be unbalanced.” He runs a tired hand over his face, still not looking at me.

"Are you telling me that I’m stuck here? In Hell?" I look around frantically, searching for answers that aren’t there. “You’re Lucifer the Light Bringer! God’s right-hand man! The most powerful archangel ever created! Why can’t you–”

He turns around, his crimson eyes burning holes in me. “I was those things!” he yells. His inhumanely deep voice sends shivers down my spine, quieting me. A look of regret passes over his face, and he softens his voice again. “Eve, I have not been those things in many a millennium. Besides, God banned me from heaven–I couldn’t set foot in that bastardly place even if I wanted to.”

“What are you saying,” I whisper. It’s not a question, because deep down I already know the answer.

“I can’t send you back home.”


Sounds like a poetry and riddle in one.

I am not even talking about the pacing, this is quite refreshing.

The way the words and phrases flows together. Even some lessons, and perhaps morals I caught in this.

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I see someone read the original testaments, but there is much more to it ^^

Overall I like the references in this chapter.


Welp, first chapter of my current WIP. It’ll go up on a profile called @Thenkar once finished, which is a group collab between 10 fantasy writers.

The Devourer of Souls, first chapter, 1014 words

Last night, I dreamt of the screams again. They were all around me, faceless bodies clawing at me, countless voices crying out for help. The memory made me shudder, and I shook my head to dispel it.

The winged lizard on my shoulder squeaked indignantly at the sudden movement, digging her claws into the thick shoulder pad. I petted her. “I’m sorry, Eora. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

With another squawk, she settled down again, looking at the desert below. I sighed and leaned forward, throwing a pebble down the face of the sandstone cliff and watching it fall. It dropped so far down it became too small to see.

All the way at the bottom, my town was bustling in early morning activity. People the size of ants moved around. The armor and weapons of guards reflected the harsh sun as they herded the slaves into the mines. The muted flashes of dragon scales were visible as well, the lizards sunning on their usual cliff face.

I leaned back on the warm sandstone, resting my head on my shaman staff. Eora quickly settled on my stomach, soaking up the warmth. Not for the first time, I wondered if it bothered her that the staff was made out of dragon bones.

My eyes followed a lonely cloud in the sky as I wondered how I could ever fit in my tribe. As son of the shaman, I was next in line to lead, but how could I possibly make decisions if I could barely sleep? There was no way my nightmares would be any help when it came to leading my people.

A sigh escaped me as I stroked Eora, and for a moment, I allowed my eyes to drift closed. Tingle spread all over my body as the feeling of the sun’s warmth on my face and the weight of a dragon on my stomach faded.

-={Normally not here but the forums don’t allow double spaces so yup.}=-

Instead of appearing barefoot on a cliff with sharp rocks with people surrounding me, I stood on a grassy field. The green blades were in no way comparable to the desert grass I was used to. A soft breeze ruffled my crimson and golden robes, my black hair tickling my face.

A beam of white light burst to life in front of me. With a hiss, I stumbled back and blinked at the intensity, clutching my staff. It took me a few seconds to look up again and see a humanoid figure levitating in the middle of the beam. Her wings were spread wide as she held her head high.

“Shaman,” she spoke, her voice ringing in my ears. Normally, that’d leave me shaking in my sandals, but she didn’t seem malicious. “We will meet soon. Be prepared.”

Before I could ask any questions, the wind picked up. The grass turned to dust, swirling around me like a sandstorm. I closed my eyes and covered my nose and mouth with the cloth of my robes, and within moments, the howling of the wind died down.


Eora looked up at me, head tilted in question. I just groaned and let my head rest back on my staff again. My mind replayed what just happened, but I doubted it would mean much.

A scaled head nudged my arm, warm horns hard against my skin. With a soft smile, I scratched her ear tuft. Eora always had a knack for cheering me up after another rough vision. I was glad shamans got the privilege of taming the flying lizards, unlike most people.

My stomach rumbled, letting me know what time it was. I moved Eora to my arm and stood up, grabbing my staff. She climbed back onto my shoulder pad on her own, curling her tail loosely around my neck. I glanced down the side of the cliff. Climbing back down was going to take a while, but it had been worth it.

I followed the trail I’d created by walking here almost every morning. A few sand-colored lizards dashed away when they heard me, hiding behind the rocks they call home. A vulture circled in the sky, searching for its next meal. It was a reminder that the Goddess of Death was always close, maybe even as close as the Goddess of Sand.

Whenever I passed anyone, I gave them a quick smile and a ‘Goddess be with you’ greeting before moving on. Not long after, I paused in front of the shaman’s cave and peered inside. My little sister’s face appeared on the other side, grinning widely. “Oh, Ineon! You’re late!”

“Oh hush, you,” I said after taking a step back. Ozanis’ breath left something to be desired this early in the morning. Crossing my arms, I continued, “You oversleep constantly too. At least I’m taking a hike.”

Unable to come up with a better rebuke, she just poked out her tongue at me and skipped back inside. I shook my head and followed her through the dragonskull-shaped entrance. The sharp sandstone teeth decorated with intricate carvings had long ago stopped impressing or scaring me.

Once in the earth, the temperature immediately dropped. Eora huffed a bit unhappily at the cold, but could forgive it as she knew food was inside. I gave her a scratch and walked deeper into the cave. Dragon skulls and teeth decorated the walls, lit up by torches. Golden dragon statues shone in the light, although they could never be as radiant as the creatures themselves.

After several turns and a handful of stairs, I ended up in the dining room. My family was already finishing up, all dressed in similar robes like mine, staffs leaning against the sandstone wall. The five of them looked up as I entered, my sister still with that grin on her little face.

I just smiled and tried to play it off. “Good morning.”

My father shook his head and passed me a piece of flatbread. “Good morning indeed, son.”

I took it and munched on it, passing some meat to Eora. Looks like I was in the clear after all.


This is a kdrama so don’t be a hater ^^


Staring, Staring, Staring.

Why am I staring at a bowl of cereal?

“Good morning Noona!”(Sister)

“Huh?” I looked up from my trance, only to see a night mare. I groaned and put my head back down in exhaust. “Good Morning Ji Soo.” I sighed.

“Are you okay Noona?”

“네.”(Yes) He looked at me. “아니(No). I have to go to that dumb internship.”

“I thought you were excited?” He said actually being kind about it.

“I was but i’m not going to the department I wanted to, because of…me.” I hit my head. “아파!”(Ow!)

My phone dinged.

"Eomma, I look horrible!!"I yelled, storming out of my room

"Eomma, I look horrible!!"I yelled, storming out of my room.

"You look professional Ki Sooya!"She said this because mothers have a certain idea of what look.

The alarm went off, Ugh I can’t even change!

“Whatever Eomma!” I grabbed my purse, and I stormed out without grabbing my coat.

My pride is too strong to go back in there! I descended down the walk way.

Professional my ASS!

I sat on my bike, and kicked the brake. Ring, Ring!


Accept call.

“Ya, Ki sooya!”


“Did you get dressed.”

“Yeah. I look like the crowned Prince of England.”

“하하하! That bad huh?” She teased me in a way only Unnie could.

“Yeah and ill fail the interview too.” I doubted my self.

“Actually not if you have me.” She insisted.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I am amazing at interviews. So if you put your Air Pods in and let me hear the questions, I can tell you what to say. Yeah?”

"Ugh, I’ll fail otherwise."I gave in.

“야후! Bye.”


I staring cycling faster. I only had five minutes, and i was ten minutes away. And----.

어머나 no time.

3 minutes later…

Having super strength and super speed, helps a lot.

OMG! This can’t be it! There’s two different buildings, which one do I go into?

“Oh that helps!” I slapped my thighs. I looked angrily at the sign saying President office this way with an arrow pointing up.

“Great sense of direction.” I told myself.

“Excuse me, which way to the CEO’s office?” I asked the man walking by, promtly walking.

“Who’s asking?”

“I am Byong Ki-soo, i’m the intern for CEO Eun.”

“Ahh. Ms.Byong. I am Mr.Gyung the secretary up this way.”

“Up? Sir?”

He pulled me across a garden, into the building on the right,and put in an elevator of about 6 people. It smelled like roses and new socks. MMM. I called Yun shima.

“Pick up, Pick up.” Taping my foot anxious and worried.

The phone spoke ‘Hello its Lee Yun Shima, I am most likely sleeping—’

I called three times and stop at the same word ‘sleeping’.

Floor 6

Seriously? We could have just walked up.

바보! I shook my head at the foolish man.

One long hall way, a desk and pictures of some of the greatest Kpop stars and dramas. ‘Chan and Ban’, ‘Forever Broken’ to name a few.

“This is my desk, stand here while I call him.” I nodded.

He seems very enclosed, it a desk and a dark corner with a picture of the company logo.

I heard his raspy voice trying to whisper. Like nails on a chalkboard.

“당신은 갈 수 있습니다.”(You can go in) He told me.

“고맙습니다.”(Thank You) I slightly bowed. The door said ‘CEO’

Real original.

I began to open the door, and walked in slowly. He was turned around, pondering the blank sky.

“안녕하세요(Hello). 저는 Byong Ki-soo.”(I am Byong Ki-soo) I introduced and bowed.

“Ah, Yes I am Eun.” He put his hand out. I’m guessing he expecting a little 165(5"4’) centimeter angel, by the way his hands were positioned. Lower than my waist, looking down.

I tapped my foot. “Hello, up here.” To his surprise, I was only a few centimeters smaller. I’m 179(5"8’) he’s about 188(6"1’)

He looked slightly up mouth wide open.


“Yes, sit please.”

I sat down on the chair.

“I guess I should try this again.” He put his hand out, reaching towards the correct height.

I was to busy looking at his sparkly eyes. So pretty.

“Ah yes,” I shook his hand. So soft. “I am Byong Ki-soo.”

He looked down. “Byong Ki-sooya, your internship will include working with me, and other departments. While you work here you will go where your told to. You know what details are here in the contract.”

My eyes went wide. He handed me two pieces of paper put together.

1 Two-year internship

2 Under no circumstances may Intern publicly ruin company name

3 Intern must speak in language employer can understand----- Blah Blah Blah.

Flip over. Blah,Blah,Blah.

Sign here _________


" 여기있어."(Here.) I insisted, and handed him the paper.

“Yes,” He stood up. “Come here.”


“I do a daily walk around. But i’m just going to the writers.”

I smiled with joy.

I smiled with joy



Where did it go?

“Ahh, The phone. The dumbest creation ever. Shall I.” He snatched the phone right from my hands, I froze my hands were still holding an invisible phone.

“아니 대!” I squealed, trying to reach over his chest.

“This looks nice,” His eyebrows lifted. Oh No! ’ AWW are you in love?’ ‘Ha! No. The package is nice, but he’s annoying as hell. He’s Sexxy, but bossy.’ He exclaimed and gave me the phone back. “Thank you for such a wonderful comment i’ll be sure to memorize that sentence. See your already breaking the contract.” He said with happiness.

He pushed open the door.


Me: He such a nice boss

I mumbled while doing my eyes… “Nice my ass.”

“오늘 어떻게 지내니?” ( How are you doing today) Mr.Eun asked the department.

“좋아, 고마워.”(Well, thank you) They all said.

We all know your lying. Don’t be afraid he just a wuss under neath all that cotton and silk.

“My new intern will be happy to assist you in any of your needs. 또한, 내가 말하는 것을 이해할 수 없다면 영어 수업은 무료입니다.”(Also, if you can not understand what I’m talking about, the English lessons are free.)


With a clap of his hand everyone started working again, except for Mia. She was too busy flagging me down. I nodded excitedly while walking over.

“Hi!” She exclaimed


I looked at her computer.

“So you get to be with the cute boss. Nice for you.” Mia said.

“Cute yes. But not really nice. He’s really mean,” I looked over to him, his arm wrapped around a young pretty Korean princess. “I’m checking his Instagram.”

Well this explains why he's so casual

Well this explains why he’s so casual.

“Ugh! He’s Dating her!” I yelled. Everyone looked at me.

Uh oh! A loud cracking noise followed.

“Ki sooya,” Mia whispered. “What just happened?”

“Nothing,you saw nothing.” I narrowed my eyes, making her forget everything.

I have been covering my cracks since I was nine. And I broke Hae-Won’s arm.

Slowly the wooden desk went back together.



She's so pretty

She’s so pretty…i’m psycho!

“What was America like Mia?” I asked hoping to confuse my mind.

“Oh,” She looked up. “Its was…” I looked at her screen.

"What is this?"I asked.



“The guy likes the other guy.” My eyes widened.

“No,No,No. That’s Illegal!” Everyone looked up. Mr. Eun did too! He got up and removed his hand from the girls back.

Who is that? Yuna!? She works here! So unprofessional.

“Oh, wow” I said quietly. My mouth wide open.

“What is?” He signaled everyone to get back to work.

He came up behind me and started clicking. Clicking and scrolling.

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m Engaged.” He insisted.

“I know, and i’m not下衆野郎” (Gesu yarō,A**hole)

“Ha really i’m the ass. Okay. Your cute. Real cute,” He grabbed my arm, and dragged me out the doors. “How did you know?”

“Know what?” I asked dumbly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, how did you know?!” He grabbed my arms and almost shook me.

“I googled you,” I replied. “Please let go of me.” He released my arms, and rubbed his eyes.

“You can’t tell anyone,”



“Okay!” He looked into my eyes.

Oh they sparkled. They shine, they are beautiful.

“You should get some sleep. Early start tomorrow.”

“Good Night, Sajangnim.” I bowed a little.

Ahh, this sounds super fun lol. Uhh, I guess I’ll post from one of the chapters I’m most proud of, from a story I’m currently working on.

The Last Words of Marionette: Porcelain, chapter 2, 1807 words.


Dinner went better than I expected. My mom hadn’t asked too many questions about my job. When she did, I was able to divert her attention elsewhere. Though, it was almost as if my dad could sense the uncomfortable position I was in from across the table. So, he swooped in and saved me as usual . . . which ended with me doing the dishes. I should’ve known better, knowing my dad likes to bargain.

“Your mother was convinced you wouldn’t come back,” my father’s voice went in and out of my ears as I scrubbed away.

“Well . . . I’m here now,” I placed the last dish into the rack.

“That you are, but, for how long?” His words hit me harder than I expected. I hadn’t thought about that. I’d never planned on returning home for good. All my visits had been temporary, on the rare occasions I did visit.

“I’m still thinking about it,” I shrugged.

“Well, don’t wait too long. You’ll give her false hope,” he said. A frown etched my lips.

He nudged my side and smiled. “Don’t worry. I know you’ll figure it out soon.”

“Thanks, dad.” Though, his words were comforting, they didn’t stray my mind from overthinking.

The rest of the night went by in a breeze. I sat at the kitchen table, taking small sips from my cup of peppermint tea, shaking my head at my parents. The movie they put on over an hour ago, was now watching them. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Brandon managed to squeeze in between them, drifting asleep too.

“And you guys tried to convince me you’d stay be able to stay up,” I chuckled and stood, placing my cup in the sink. Then, I sauntered towards them, tossing one of my mom’s spare comforters over their bodies. Eventually, they’d wake up in the middle of the night, drag themselves to their bed, and fall back asleep. It was strictly routine with them. Speaking of which, I had a few of my own things to do. Quickly, I dragged my body towards the staircase, and up to my old room—the room I’d be sleeping in while I was here. I hadn’t had time to finish settling in since my mom insisted on an early dinner. Now that they were asleep, I had plenty of time to spare. Too bad, it’s not as exciting as it used to be.

“Seriously, mom?” I laughed under my breath, running my hands across the walls. The walls were still covered in glow in the dark stickers Mirabelle and I had as a kid, but it seems my mom added an additional set to the mix, considering there were some Alice in Wonderland stickers on the wall. Interesting enough, my room hadn’t been touched since I left. The stickers were the only new items. Apparently, she even kept everything in my room well-taken care of while I was gone too. My collection of plushies were still surrounding the head of my pillow. They looked as if they’d been washed recently. The exceptionally clean fur on them, was a dead giveaway. The new set of folded sheets and comforter on my bed didn’t go unnoticed either. Geez, I didn’t realize how prepared my mom was for this day.

“It feels good to be back,” I sighed in content, flattening my palms on the surface of the mattress. They’re just as soft as I remember . I laughed under my breath and dived onto the comforters, my body sinking on contact. No matter how conflicted I felt about being home, one thing was always clear . . . I would always miss Rosemary County. Before I could soak the pleasing moment in any further, my eyes drifted to the side. Regret crawled its way up my throat at the glimpse of Mirabelle’s room I caught. I could feel the tears itching to come out, but I sucked in a breath and held them back.

“You promised yourself you wouldn’t go back Jenna.” Whispering to myself was only working to some extent. No matter how many times I repeated those words a day, nothing changed. At least, nothing I hoped for.

I clenched my eyes shut, biting down on my bottom lip. The tremble in my hands said enough. When I finally got a hold of myself, I’d given in and walked to Mira’s room. My nose was immediately hit with the stench of ginger, as I opened the door. The ginger reeked of a smell similar to hers. Had my mom been leaving ginger in the room to remind herself of Mira? Thinking of that tugged at my heart with guilt and sadness. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but no matter how many times I tried to convince myself otherwise, the reasons just didn’t seem clear.

“Oh, mom. . .” I let out a deep sigh, letting my eyes linger over the room. It seems she cleared this room out to some extent. The most important belongings of Mirabelle’s were still neatly positioned on her bed, above the made-up sheets. Meanwhile, I noticed some of her other belongings were missing. Knowing my mother, she probably packed them into boxes and moved them into the basement. My guess is, she most likely did so to prevent them from collecting dust. I checked behind me to make sure my parents hadn’t come upstairs yet. When the coast was clear, I scurried out of her room, stopping in the middle of the hallway. I couldn’t keep myself from staring at the string hanging from the opening of the attic door directly above me. Slowly, it dangled—as if taunting me—daring me to open it. I shut my eyes tightly, taking a few deep breaths to soothe myself. If it hadn’t been for the little bit of motivation I had left to spare, I would have turned around and called it a night.

As I pulled on the string, the attic door opened with an eerie squeak, sending chills through my body. Keep going Jenna . I pushed myself. Opening my eyes, I yanked the latter down from the top of the attic.

“Shit, that’s cold,” I cursed under my breath. As soon as my body climbed its way to the top, I was met with a cold draft. It’s been so long since I’ve been up here. Spider webs surrounded the walls and the wood beneath my feet, felt as if it’s been weakening for years. My eyes scoped the attic ceiling in search of the string to the light bulb, but I couldn’t find anything. Carefully, I stepped over a few boxes, touching the wood above me. Finally, a thin piece of material fell into my hand, and I pulled on it. Light illuminated the attic from top to bottom.

Just as I thought, there were a few boxes with the name Mirabelle written across them. I ran to the boxes, prying them open one by one.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is still here!” I laughed under my breath as I dug through the box. The ink may have been smudged on the paper, but the memory was still clear. I ran the pads of my thumbs across the dark words smearing across the stained paper. When Mirabelle and I were younger, we had created a list of rules for an imaginary tea party we held once every month. Mirabelle insisted we use decorations just like Alice in Wonderland and for our list to be written in pretty black ink. It would always be one of my favorite memories we shared. I let out another laugh and placed the paper beside me.

At the next item, my mouth gaped open in surprise. “Whoa, why would she store this away?” A photo of my family and I from a vacation we went on a few years ago, laid in the palm of my hands. It was Mirabelle’s eighth birthday and her grades were excellent. So, my mom decided to finally give her what she’d been asking for—a trip to American Girl—where she was able to buy her very first doll. Now that I thought of it . . . I bent forward, sticking my head deeper in the box.

There she was.

Mirabelle had always had an authentic personality. She craved the aesthetic in life; therefore she chose to collect old photos, vintage items, books, and dolls. But not just any dolls, porcelain dolls. I lifted Marionette out of the box. I still have no idea why Mirabelle would choose such a name for her doll. I studied the doll closely, rubbing my fingers over her clothing.

The burn marks were still there, melted into her left cheek and lower arm. Even with the burn marks, the doll managed to look beautiful. Her skin glowed with a swirl of blush splattered on her rosy cheeks. Her cheeks were just as beautiful as her eyes. The color in her eyes were still a riveting green, just like Mirabelle’s. Let’s not forget the beautiful light brown, straightened hair flowing down Marionette’s back. Her looks almost made me jealous. She resembled Mirabelle so much and Mirabelle always looked like mom—fair skin tone, light brown straight hair, and green eyes. Meanwhile, I had dad’s caramel skin tone, and mess of curly dark brown hair. I guess that’s what happens when your parents are two different races, from two different sides of the spectrum.

I wouldn’t call it an obsession, no, it was more like an admiration. Mirabelle admired dolls that looked and reminded her of herself. Marionette happened to be the only one closest to that description. So, she’d kept her for years, and treated her just as kind as she treated everyone else—who were human, of course.

“You hold so many memories,” I tightened my grip on Marionette’s arm. I found it hard keeping it together after seeing the burn marks on Marionette. I wanted to accept it. I wanted to forget. I wanted to let go of this pain . I just couldn’t. I thought I’d be able to come up here and relive the memory Mirabelle left behind without tearing myself apart, but I guess I was wrong.

The carving of Mirabelle’s initials didn’t go unnoticed on Marionette’s right hand. I let out a soft sigh and smiled. Of course, she would do that. She wouldn’t want something she considered another part of the family lost.

“Whelp, I think I’ve mourned enough,” I gently placed Marionette back in the spot I found her and closed the box for good. Then, I switched off the light, and left the attic, closing everything behind me. Starting tomorrow, I would focus on the now, and that is helping my parents get over what I escaped in this town.

I love the tint of mystery throughout. Right into action, with very in-depth imagery and flowing vocabulary. The action stands its ground in the entire chapter, and the cliffhanger has a great impact. It was very fun to read.

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OK, here’s an excerpt :grin:

It’s a mature story, but this chapter should be more in the PG-13 range.


Mokuba knocked on the door to Joan’s second-floor apartment. After finding out about Duke’s party, he’d exchanged logistics with Joan. Taking a page out of his brother’s book, he wore black leather pants and a Kaiba Corporation shirt emblazoned with three Blue Eyes White Dragons. A KC belt rode low on his hips, but he hadn’t bothered with the additional adornments Seto favored.

Joan answered the door in the glittering one-sleeved dress that Marc had bought for her. A black purse in which she’d packed a few essentials hung from one shoulder. Smokey eyeshadow cast an alluring aura over her face. She ran her eyes over Mokuba’s body from toe to head, taking in the slight bulge of his crotch and broad shoulders. “I love that look on you.”

Mokuba gulped. “You look amazing. I’m sorry, this is still really new to me.”

“Relax.” Joan pulled Mokuba in for a hug and felt the smooth, cool synthetic fabric of his shirt. “Just let me know if anything isn’t working for you and we can change it.” She drew back and smiled warmly.

A bald male with stubbly facial hair peered over Joan’s shoulder. “OMG! You were right, he’s sooooo cute!” he said in obvious falsetto. “Hi, I’m Joan’s roommate, Michelle.”

“Oh, uh, hi?” Mokuba replied.

The man dropped into his normal voice. “Sorry. I’m actually Michael. I know you’re doing the whole ‘pretending’ thing but obviously I’m not convincing you. I just wanted to see your face once. I can stay out of your way from now on.”

“OK. Sure, yeah, that sounds good,” Mokuba said.

Joan took Mokuba’s arm and headed towards the stairs. “Bye Michelle, don’t wait up for me,” Joan called over her shoulder. They made their way down to the parking lot and Mokuba opened the passenger door to an electric blue Tesla Roadster. “Is this thing for real?” Joan asked as she got in.

Mokuba got behind the wheel. “Ever since I met you, I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“Fair enough.”

Again, the conversation remained restricted to light topics. With all the scenery flashing by outside the windows, Joan had an endless supply of inspiration.

They approached a building with a giant neon guitar neck sticking out of the first floor awning. Shimmering curtains shielded the windows from curious outsiders. When they stopped, a valet opened the door for Joan and took the keys from Mokuba.

Mokuba handed his passport to the bouncer, who quickly found him on the guest list. He then scanned Joan’s ID and they were ushered inside with minimal delay. Once inside, Joan handed her purse over to the coat check person and Mokuba pocketed the ticket they received in exchange. Music pounded through the sound system as they stepped up to a long, glossy wooden bar where Joan ordered a ginger ale.

“No alcohol?” Mokuba asked, surprised.

“Maybe later. I want to remember this night.”


Joan held Mokuba’s gaze firmly. “Too intense? It’s actually true, you know.”

“OK. Ginger ale for me too then.”

They took their drinks from the bartender and surveyed the rest of the club. Giant metallic stars decorated the walls and retro lamps dangled from the ceiling. Flashes of multicolored light spilled from an adjacent room where nobody was dancing yet. A staircase led to a VIP lounge on the second level.

“Want to see who’s up there?” Mokuba asked.


Mokuba presented his passport to the bouncer guarding the stairs. He checked it against a list and stepped aside. “Thank you, Mr. Kaiba. Enjoy your evening.”

Mokuba took Joan’s hand to signal that she was with him as they went up the stairs. They entered a room lined with velvet-covered couches on every wall and three dance poles running through the middle. Joan recognized one of Marc’s friends dressed as Dark Magician Girl shaking her cute little bubble butt on the central pole. Her pink and blue off-the-shoulder costume displayed generous cleavage. Joan waved, but had forgotten the cosplayer’s name, so she didn’t engage her in conversation.

Duke Devlin sat on the center couch with his knees open and an arm around another attractive lady. “Yo Mokuba! How’s it hanging, man? Come have a seat!”

Mokuba walked up to Duke. “Hey Duke, this is Joan. Joan, Duke is the creator of Dungeon Dice Monsters.”

“A pleasure,” Duke said as they shook hands, the die dangling from his ear swinging with the motion. “So how do you know Mokuba?”

Mokuba sat down and Joan plopped beside him. Imitating Duke in a façade of cocky poise, Mokuba slid his arm around Joan.

“Someone stole my bicycle and Mokuba offered me a ride home,” Joan said.

Duke tilted his head. “Aw that’s sweet. That’ll make a nice story to tell your grandchildren.”

“Uh. Thanks, I guess,” Mokuba said.

Duke picked up a half-empty martini glass from a glowing resin table in front of them. “I always saw you as the family type, Mokie. I’m surprised you’re not totin’ around three kids already.”

“I think he’s already tipsy,” Joan whispered to Mokuba.

“You got any kids, Duke?” Mokuba asked.

“I got a few running around. Bombay, Dubai, Dallas, Moscow. Send their mommas checks sometimes.”

“Excuse me. I have to go pee-pee.” The girl Duke was holding abruptly got up and scurried away.

“Later babe,” Duke called.

“Wait, you seriously just . . .” Mokuba trailed off.

“Pump and dump, my man,” Duke finished. “It’s the life!”

Mokuba tightened his hold around Joan. “OK, but don’t you give them morning after pills or anything?”

“Naw. A lot of these bitches want to get preggy. Some stud’s gonna knock them up anyway and it might as well be me!” Duke downed the last of his drink.

Joan and Mokuba remained silent while Dark Magician Girl blew a kiss at Duke.

“I think we need some fresh air,” Joan said at last. She stood up and pulled Mokuba onto a nearby balcony. Traffic rumbled beneath them in a sea of lights.

Mokuba leaned on the banister and looked out over the city. “Is that true? Do some women want to be pumped and dumped?”

“Probably. Different people want different things.”

A tremble crept into Mokuba’s voice. “What do you want?”

“Do you want the real answer or the pretend answer?”

“The real answer.”

Joan leaned her elbows on the banister and looked him in the eye. “Brothers.”

Mokuba let the word sink in. He thought Marc had been joking. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well, fraternal polyandry if you want the technical term for it. That’s where all the brothers in a family marry one wife, sometimes more wives if the first wife is barren or something. It’s actually a tradition in Tibet. It keeps them from splitting up their land.”

“Why don’t you move there then?”

“I read up on the place. They’re not friendly to outsiders. They have too many unmarried women already and I don’t have the skills most of them want in a wife. Here in California, there’s a surplus of available men because half of the women have decided they don’t need a man.”

“Interesting. So do all the men you date have brothers?”

“Most do. I hope someday one of them will give me a chance, but if that never happens, I’ll settle for my guys becoming really good friends with each other, almost like brothers.”

“So because Seto and I are actually brothers, that’s why you want to remember this night?”

“Guilty as charged.” Joan’s smile, however, radiated no guilt.

The word “discount” clicked into Mokuba’s head. It all made sense now. “That’s weird, but I actually feel better knowing that. You did something to my brother, something good, and now I know it wasn’t just because he paid you.”

“Cool. I don’t know exactly how that worked, but I’m glad it did.”

Before Mokuba could think too hard about it, he kissed Joan, hastily swooping in and drawing back. Joan eyed him and smiled, examining his face for any sign of regret before she grabbed him and returned the kiss. She kept it tame but sincere, lingering like a weary traveler returning home.

Joan pulled back and spoke softly, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Mokuba searched for what to say next, but nothing came. He was in uncharted territory but could tell she knew the way.

“Ready to dance?” Joan asked.


They passed Dark Magician Girl giving Duke a lap dance and went downstairs, holding hands as they wormed their way through undulating bodies. They settled on a spot and started dancing. Joan invited Mokuba to touch her body, guiding his hands around her waist and letting her bouncing breasts brush against him. Marc was right; this was more fun without a bra. Their close proximity deterred strange men from grinding up on Joan.

After three songs, Laura Aurelio appeared at Mokuba’s elbow. “Hey boss!” she yelled.

“What?” Mokuba asked through the noise.

“Hi,” Laura repeated.

“Hi,” Joan and Mokuba said.

The noise drowned Laura’s next words.

“What?” Mokuba asked.

“Never mind,” Laura replied.

“What?” Mokuba said again.

Laura gave them two thumbs up and then danced away backwards, blending into the crowd.

Mokuba and Joan kept dancing until the heat from the other bodies became oppressive. They then ordered fresh fizzy drinks and headed upstairs. Duke and Dark Magician Girl were gone, leaving the poles unattended. A man in a flamboyant red suit with long white hair covering one eye sat sipping red wine among other men in less colorful attire. Most held glasses of champagne, and bottles littered the glowing resin table.

“Shit,” Mokuba cursed under his breath.

The red-suited man rose and flung his arms wide. “Little Mokuba! Not so little anymore, but that’s how I’ll always remember you,” he said in a dramatically suave voice. “It’s been forever. Hopefully no hard feelings over our old Duelist Kingdom days. Come now, my Millennium Eye is long gone.” He pulled back the hair to reveal a vacant socket pink with useless blood vessels, then let it fall back in place.

Mokuba stiffened. “Joan, this is Maximillion Pegasus. He kidnapped me when I was a child to lure my brother into a duel and stole our souls in an attempt to resurrect his dead wife.”

“Don’t be like that,” Pegasus pouted. “I was overcome with grief. You would have done the same.”

“Let’s go.” Mokuba put his hand on Joan’s waist and they turned.

“Wait!” Pegasus called, “I heard a rather interesting rumor about your company. Perhaps you would care to clarify matters?”

Mokuba stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“Come take a seat. Let’s have a little chat,” Pegasus invited.

Not the first chapter- but probably the best representation of what my story is actually like. :joy:

(AKA: freaking weird)

Chapter Three

Charlie spun around to look her fate right in the eyes. The entire crew of the ship was watching her. Every single one of them possessed an annoying amount of male-rugged-attractiveness. They were all examining her dirt-soaked white slip and bare feet.

“What happened, Captain?” asked one of the crewmen, whose eyes did not stray away from Charlie.

“We fell under attack,” said Capt. Mr. Muscles Hero, Sir.

“Wait, Captain?” Charlie questioned.

He did not answer to her confusion, “My father’s castle is not safe anymore. We must set sail. We must head north.”

“North? Captain, are you sure?” asked the crewmen. Their was worry in his voice.

Charlie was fixated on something entirely different, “I’m sorry, what? Did you say your father’s castle?”

“Yes, that is where we came from,” her Hero responded.

“You’re King Ender’s son?” Charlie gasped, "You told me to call you, Sir, "

“That’s his name,” said one of the crewmen.

Charlie threw her hands in the air, “What? I’m- Who are you? Are you a Captain, a Prince, or a ’ Sir '?”

“Yes, that is correct: Captain Prince Sir Ender, of Fairendale, at your service,” said Captain Prince Sir Ender of Fairendale with a bow.

“Ah, Sir is your first name,” Charlie said. She couldn’t even stop herself from chuckling from the pure exhaustion of her situation,“Your name is Sir Ender. And you are a prince and the captain of a ship. Lovely,” She began creeping her way across the deck, headed backwards, and never taking her eyes off of Prince Sir Ender or his crew.

“Are you alright, madame?” Asked Prince Sir Ender. Charlie reached the door of the Captain’s quarters at the back of the deck.

“I am fine. I’m just going to go freshen up. Make myself presentable for, er, royalty ,” Charlie pretended to swoon, with the same overdone curtsy she had given her mother earlier that day, “You all just head ‘north’ or whatever. Don’t mind me. Pardon,” she stepped back into the Captain’s quarters and reached for the door.

Captain Prince Sir Ender approached her when he saw where she was headed, “Er- well actually that is my ro-” Charlie slammed the door right in his face and locked it. She could hear the voices outside scrambling around.

“Do you have the keys?” said a voice.

“The keys are still in there,” the Prince Captain said.

“Just let her be for a while. She’ll come around. She’s just one of those Damsels” said another voice and they all started to fade away. Charlie put her back against the door and slid to the ground. She still had the small golden spear in her hand. She tossed it aside and curled up into her own knees.

“What the hell,” she whispered to herself, “Ray, I am going to kill you.”

The thought of her brother saddened her. She didn’t know what had happened to him; if he had even made it out of there alive. And now she was sailing off somewhere north, not knowing if she was ever going to return.

For the next few hours, Charlie’s head ran rampant trying to comprehend everything that happened; trying to figure out what caused it. If the attack on the castle was, indeed, a stimuli just to start some adventures in the hall, her brother would be fine. It would not have affected those whose adventures were not starting that day. Though, something deep in her gut told her that wasn’t what it was. She had seen the west wing fall on all those people and the way the bird had talked to her made it seem like this was something different; something bigger. And yet, that’s how adventures are supposed to feel. Her brain throbbed more painfully with each passing thought until a knock at the giant wooden door snapped her awake.

“Um- Princess?” said Sir Ender’s voice through the door. Charlie sat confused for a moment before remembering the stupid crown on her head. She tore it off and threw it on the ground. Sir Ender kept knocking, “You’ve been in there for hours. Have you not freshened up yet? Are you not hungry?”

Charlie stood up and wiped the melting makeup from her face, only making it worse and leaving her hands stained black and blush. She flattened her white slip down as best she could, even though it was hopelessly torn and dirty now.

She opened the door ever so slowly, “I am a little hungry,” she admitted.

The Captain Prince scanned her body with disapproval on his face, “My, don’t you look- just- so much better than you did a few hours ago,” he lied, “You sure do know how to freshen up, princess,”

“Oh right,” Charlie said with a ‘tsk’, “I should probably break it to you early, but I am not a princess. Sorry,” she made it very obvious that she was not sorry at all.

“But, you wore a crown-” Sir Ender pointed out.

Charlie nodded and touched the empty place in her hair where her crown used to be, “Yeah that was my mom’s, not that she was royalty or anything. I’m pretty sure she stole it off of a dead body-”

“No matter!” the Prince cheered, “The laws that a prince must marry a princess were abolished decades ago in Fairendale.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped, “Wow, er- I’m pretty sure that no one said a thing about marriage-”

“Are you cold, milady?” the Prince asked.


“You look cold. I know the ocean wind can be bitter and harsh.”

“It’s summer. I just came from almost burning to death-” Charlie began, but the prince was already tearing his jacket from his body. He wore no shirt underneath. He let the jacket fall slowly off his shoulders, revealing the perfection of the body beneath. He had the shoulders of a Greek god, and the abs of a marble statue. Every move was full of sex appeal and yet, to Charlie, it might as well be her own brother standing in front of her.

Her lip flared up in disdain as the half naked man wrapped the jacket around her shoulders. She shuddered as his hand caressed her face when he pulled away. His face was only inches from her own and Charlie was frozen with her mind not allowing her to back up.

“I’m sure we can find something to warm you up,” he breathed. She had never felt more relieved than when he pulled back from her face, but only for a moment. For the second he stepped into the absurdly bright and perfectly placed moonlight of the ship, she knew the full reality of her fate.

The way the moonlight curved around his body, hugging each muscle on his chest in blue highlight and the way the ocean breeze flowed through his long luscious strands of golden hair told Charlie everything she needed to know. It was a fate worse than her nightmares. Her adventure had indeed begun, and her adventure was an erotic romance .

This is the last part of my first chapter (which I’d split up for wattpad). It’s my favourite chapter. I hope you like it!


Over the next couple of days, I read the volume, not one, not two, but five times. The shadowy figure was never mentioned again, but that chill returned every time I read the scene. Six months passed as the new chapters of volume two, then three released every Wednesday on the manga site. Soon that became my favourite day.

Like a blind man who’d found a door, I held on to the whispers and smells from the world behind it. Yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t open the door to see more.

I did not, could not, live there-- not yet.

January 15. Ten years old. Japan.

My door was shut. I wasn’t allowed to lock it, but no one said anything about shutting it. So I’d shut it. Quietly of course, surreptitiously. When my parents were out buying groceries.

Okay, maybe I was more than a little paranoid.

Nevertheless, the door was shut, and I was free to practice my swordsmanship, or at least pretend to. With my makeshift blade, a long ruler, I made slashes and thrusts at the air, trying to copy the moves Kaede did the time a bandit stole their bags, or Ahio when the same bandit called his mates for help. Currents of exhilaration rippled through my arm, releasing a longing I’d always had but seldom acknowledged. Well, maybe I had acknowledged it. The shelves of books I owned held testimony to the call for adventure I’d heard since I’d learned to read.

Leaping onto my bed, and then back onto the floor, I tried to propel myself higher and higher into the air. But I couldn’t do the stunts squad eleven often did. In Blade Fables, everyone used inner spirit, their version of magic. They could run faster and jump further than any human in our world could. Some, who were mages like Tsubasa, could do more. As a nature whisperer, he had the spirit of every living creature under his beck and call.

Sweat beading on my forehead, I dropped onto my bed, panting. For all the playacting I did, something was still missing. My heart called out for an answer I couldn’t give. Knuckles turning white, I clenched my ruler. I wanted more. More than just reading, more than just my imagination. I wanted to see it, hear it, be it.

Something glimmered in front of me, so faint I could’ve mistaken it for a trick of the light. But my curtains were closed and my room in an afternoon shadow. What is it? My breath caught in my chest. While my study-table was in front of me, an image of something else superimposed on it. Something tall yet far away. Something with a glistening crystal dome.

Heikisato’s headquarters.

With trembling legs, I stood. Have I gone mad? But regardless of how much I rubbed my eyes or blinked, the image remained. Is this real? I reached out my hands, fingertips brushing the apparition.


My parents had arrived. The vision before me disappeared. A spark of anger almost made me scream. I was so close. But there was no time for that. I flung the ruler onto my study-table and heaved open the door. It wouldn’t do for them to find out what I’d been up to. Well, my dad wouldn’t care. He never wanted to work, even to look after his kid, whenever he wasn’t on his business trips and was home on holidays. But my mum would get ideas that I was becoming distracted, or violent. Or she’ll laugh at it as if it were too trivial to be given any more respect.

As she peeked through the doorway, I was on my chair at my study-table, perusing a fourth-grade science textbook. Her blue eyes glinted with what I could only assume to be approval.

‘You’re studying? Good. I wanted to talk to you about something.’

My back straightened, and I attempted to put on a calm face and smile. What had I done now? Had she seen me? I’d drawn the curtains closed too. Oh no, was my silhouette visible making swipes with stationary? Yet I couldn’t see a trace of anger around her eyes so I forced my thumping heart to calm. It couldn’t be anything bad.

‘Yes, Mum?’

She smiled, and more than anything, this made my breathing slow down.

‘You’re going into fifth grade soon, so I thought it’d be best if we got a tutor for you. I met Mrs Hashimoto at the shop, and she told me her daughter’s teacher is a good one. I’ll be calling her today, and maybe we could set something up this week.’

‘Tutoring?’ My dad strode over, still sporting dark circles around his eyes from jetlag. ‘Why does he need that? We can’t afford it.’

I swallowed. Not again.

My mum sighed, lips thinning into a frown. ‘We could if you stopped dishing out your money so your sister can buy a second car.’

‘We’ve talked about this already.’ He glared at her. ‘Asuka’s in university. It’s hard for them to manage with one car.’

She glared back, her voice rising with every word. ‘I suppose they’re too good for public transport. Why won’t you understand? She has you wrapped around her finger. And now you won’t pay for our child’s education because you want to buy her a second car.’

‘How dare you tell me how to spend my own money?’ Dad shouted.

At this point my mum slammed my door, muffling their argument. Their voices still came through, words unintelligible but loud.

Every other day my parents stayed in the same place promised an evening of arguments and silent dinners. I should be used to it by now. Yet I still shook despite myself. My throat dried out and tightened, but I didn’t know why. They’d go over the same quarrel, the same points before deciding to never compromise, only to start it again another day. I should be used to it.

I blinked, refusing to cry. Just as my vision got cloudy, I spotted my volume of Blade Fables. With trembling hands, I grabbed it. The pages, now well-thumbed, captured me just as it had the first time. It was like a blanket, keeping me warm and safe. Soon, my parents’ voices drifted away and all I heard were clashing swords.

The next evening, I found my arm held hostage by Yuuhei, who towed it and sprinted into his mansion of a home. My shoulders popped in protest, and I stumbled behind him.

‘Yuuhei, Yuuhei! Slow down,’ I screamed.

‘Aw, wait till we go to my room.’

I sighed and shook my head. I’d need a new arm with this boy as my friend. While his antics made me grin, something else did too.

Today was Wednesday.

And not just any Wednesday. Today there’d be a new arc. I hoped something exciting happened.

We rushed through the wide hallways and skidded to a halt before his room. A thick spicy smell wafted from the kitchen. My stomach growled. I wondered what Yuuhei’s mum had cooked. He let my poor hand go and stared at the ceiling, eyes moist.

‘Oh, my room. I am back. Did you miss me?’

I laughed and swatted his arm. ‘So dramatic.’

He shoved my hand, a toothy grin decorating his face. ‘It’s time to read,’ he rolled onto his gigantic bed and circled his arms under his head. Despite the size, it was a wonder he had any space to do that. Dirty clothes from who knows when, pencils and papers of a budding artist and bags of chips he’d finished days ago took up most of it. A room twice as big as mine and this is what he did with it.

Kicking away an odd pair of socks on the way to his laptop, I let loose a huge smile. The balls of my feet danced to an imaginary chorus, and exhilaration perfumed the air. Finally! I’d been waiting all week.

‘I’ve always wondered how cool it’d be if all these manga were real,’ said Yuuhei.

My eyes shifted to him. He broke contact with them and glazed over the hoards of books on his shelves and floor. ‘You know, I read an article once. It was about some people thinking they could go to other dimensions, and how they had superpowers and stuff. Dunno if it’s true, but wouldn’t it be so cool if that happened to us?’

Time froze. My heart beat like it was trying to break my ribs, and my palms prickled with sweat. Was that what I was feeling all this while? Am I really… Should I tell him I might be…?

‘Yup, it’d be really cool.’

The loading finished, and a screen of bright pokey struck my vision. I opened the browser with shivering fingers and typed in the manga site. Was Blade Fables real? Could it be real? It took me a few minutes to realize Blade Fables was under Newest Releases.

Even if it existed, could I really go there?

‘It’s up, Yuuhei.’

‘Yay. Ugh, Tahro, help me. I can’t get up.’

Turning my head, I found Yuuhei flat on his back, one hand stretched limply at the roof. I scrambled over and pulled it.

‘Tahro, at this rate, I don’t think I’ll ever get out of bed. Tell my parents this is it. And my sister that I love her. I can’t go to school anymore or do any homework,’ he sniffed. ‘When I die, bury me with my action figures.’

Could count on him to change the topic, even unknowingly. I dropped his hands and crossed my arms. ‘Get up, you lazy, morbid kid.’

‘Ugh, ugh,’ he said and flopped to his side. Then, like a zombie, he pushed himself up with one trembling hand and chuckled. ‘Okay, I’m up. Open the chapter.’

I grinned, double-clicked the thumbnail and waited for the chapter to load. The first page was…

*Notice to all readers.

Due to extremely low ratings and other unforeseen circumstances, the Author has to temporarily withdraw from continuing the manga. We assure you that it will return full swing with a new exciting arc, but for now, we apologize for the hiatus. Thank you for your support and patience!*

I had often wondered how everything would have gone about if the four-year hiatus had never happened. Maybe things would have been better. Maybe they would have been worse. But what I do know is my life would’ve been that much easier if it weren’t for this stupid hiatus.

A high-pitched whistle blew in my ear. The temperature plummeted, and whatever breath I had was squeezed out of me. My ears rang as if someone had taken the courtesy of boxing them. Why would they do this? What about everyone who liked it? And how will I… Will I ever…know more?

I saw my future laid out before me. What was I going to do when cooped up in my room if I couldn’t be a part of new exploits? What was I going to do when they fought? Those days when my parents’ voices raised too high for me to shut out. How could I mute them if I had no new villains to play-fight with?

What had once been a door now blew open into a crater. Something precious within me, like a soul, a spirit, rushed through it. I saw not through two eyes, but four. Two hearts raced together. Like looking into a mirror for the first time, there was another me.

‘Hey, Tahro, are you alright?’ said a voice which had travelled many many miles.

I shut my eyes and clenched my fists. My heart banged on my ribcage, and one thought, one hope, clung to my mind.

‘Yuuhei, there’s something I have to tell you.’

January 16. Ten years old. Saishuu Riku.

I entered the HQ and asked to be a swordsman.

Oh fun! This is Chapter 12 of my low fantasy The Ephemeral (Book One: Breeder) - kind of spoilery, and intense, but it sets the stage for the rest of the book!

Read Here (~1300 words)

They dove like acid rain. Abundant. Merciless. Painful.

The sky darkened, and the cloud of birds swooped down, talons extended, raking at skin and hair. One flew straight for me, aiming at me like it had been bred to end me. Its beak broke through my cheek. I shoved it off and swung for it with my sword, almost dismembering Will as I did so.

He was not pleased.

The crowd rushed out of the stands in a chaotic frenzy. Blood and feathers and screams.

The screams . Bouts of horror and pain intermingled with the bloodthirsty cries of the deranged crows.

This…this was wrong.


My gaze snapped back to the stage as something heavy leapt from the swarm and struck the platform with a shudder. A black and poisoned raindrop.

At first, I thought it was a soldier, a federate jumping to our aid. It wore a soldier’s uniform. Boots. Old, Ellsian army attire. A sword on its hip.

This, though…this was like nothing I’d ever seen before—its skin webbed in black veins and blisters, its human face made up of two gray, pupil-less eyes and a yellow, grime-speckled grin. Just like the lions.

It sneered at me, and a black tongue flicked across its lips.

“Boys, get behind—”

The soldier quickly silenced Gilmore by slicing his head clean off his shoulders.

The announcer I had known since I was a child—the symbol of the Tournament, the speaker of Belgate—crumpled like a ragdoll. His head hit the platform with a sound I would never forget.

I stared at the blood gushing for my feet.

There were more cries from the crowd as similar creatures fell to the ground of the stadium and crawled over the sides of the walls like a clutter of spiders flooding out of an egg sac. They threw glass bottles, sending smoke and red fire into the toxic sky with each impact. People ran for their lives from killer birds and these…these…fictional terrors.

It happened too quickly. Unfolded all at once.

It was too fast to be real, the way a dream patches too many scenes and impossible scenarios into one sequence. But as the blood began to shape around the contours of my foot, I couldn’t lie to myself.

We were being invaded by monsters.

Monsters that murdered .

And I wasn’t going to die standing here, trying to ascertain if this was fiction or not.

With a burst of rage and terror, I lashed out for the ghoulish killer, swinging my sword around to its chest.

The humanoid deflected my assault easily, and it smiled again. It thrust its own weapon toward me, and I barely dodged it in time, stepping back, swallowing the fear climbing my throat.

Shaking, I was about to strike again when Will grabbed my wrist and threw us over the edge of the platform.

I fell in a crouch, miffed. Secretly relieved .

We ran, and I stared out at the beasts taking innocent lives, slicing entrails, trying to absorb the images and not the emotions they induced.

“What… are they?”

Crows dove and swerved around us. I could hear the anguished cries, spot the blood splashing the walls.

Block it out, block it out.

We ducked down behind the courtside seats. “They’re spirits,” Will said.

I snapped my head up. “ What ?”

“Spirits. Like ghosts…demons.”

“Demons!?” I stood up to get a better look, but he yanked me back down again, shaking his head.

“They’ve taken over human forms, eaten their souls. That’s what we’re fighting.”

I wanted to smack him. Did he fall on his head ?

Souls? Demons?

He was speaking in folklore.

Patrons . You mean the war—this whole time—we’ve been up against that ?!” Chinger cried, hunched behind another row of bleachers a few meters away. His red hair was damp with sweat, and his dimpled chin quivered in fear.

Will nodded, grim, and my doubt wavered at the threatened and foreboding look in his eyes.


That wasn’t possible. We couldn’t be fighting the dead. That just didn’t happen outside worn pages. And how did Will know anything? The rest of the citizens were all running for their lives, unaware, unprepared.

“Who told you that?”

Obsidian eyes locked on the exit. “Get out of Belgate, Kingsley. And try not to die.”

And with that, he left me, his sword in hand.

Chinger darted after him, screaming angrily, as if that would scare the crows away.

I cursed, lost in my horror and badgering confusion. I fled for the exit, praying no demon birds gouged out my eyes, that no demons sucked out my soul.

As soon as I crossed the threshold of the arena, sturdy hands spun me around.

My father held me at arm’s length, wild-eyed.

Dad ?” I clutched at his wrists. “What’s happening?”

“Alex, listen to me. I need you to go west, warn the Interior, Holly first. They’re the head of military operations. You’ll be safe there, and I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can.”

“…What?” I croaked. He’d made absolutely no sense. “I can’t just…what about you ?”

His grip tightened. “I’ll help the others get out. But I need you to do this. I know now—I know what you’re capable of. You can save us, Al.”

The admission pinched the corners of my eyes, and I felt the tears spring to the surface where they didn’t belong. “But—”

“The sentinels will be fighting. Everyone else will be looking to escape to the South.” He shook his head. “You need to deliver the message to the Interior that the borders have fallen. Before it’s too late.”


Time drew in a breath.

The screams died as we stared at one another, the dry wind tossing our hair around our faces. There was an intensity I had never seen before in those hazel eyes. There was a bravery I’d never noticed.

“Go on.” He pushed me away.

I took a step back, hesitating. “I…”

“For once, Alex, do as I say.” He turned around, facing a horde of evil creatures. “ Run .”

Pained, I took off in the other direction.

Blinking away tears.

My father trusted me enough for this task. I wouldn’t let him down. Not again.

I ran past burning buildings—the festival booths, Nova’s storefront, the library. The entire city was ravaged and smoking, drowning in red fire.

I’d never seen such fire. It was almost dark—the color of blood. No yellows, oranges, or blues. Just lightless, raging red.

Men with moon-colored eyes burned everything in their wake. They threw bottles and torches and ravaged through the debris. Horses lay dead in the street — a barbaric strategy to slow our escape.

Several veterans and sentinels attempted to fight back, Frost included, but they were falling quickly from what I could tell. Bodies littered the streets.

Panting, I burst through the front door of my house. There was no time to deliberate.

I shot upstairs and flung a few clothes and a jacket into my school pack, glancing out the window, at the screams that bounced off the glass. I slid everything from my desk into the sack with one motion: my old flashlight, a few of my most treasured books, my knife. Then I hurdled down to the kitchen and tossed in a loaf of bread. I frantically filled a waterskin and barreled on for the barn.

The chickens scurried around my feet, terrified. Guinevere and Ophelia huddled together at the far end of the ranch, seeking sanctuary. Richard was nowhere to be found. I hoped he’d run far away from this place.

From the shed I retrieved some cord and a box of matches, and I turned to shut the door when a burst of heat and wood chips launched me backward.

Gritz .


Red fire.

Sprawled on the grass, I sat up, my vision shifting back and forth. When the blurry image focused, I dug my nails into the earth.

Our house withered in crimson flame.

I stared at the death of a space I had called home for my entire life. The old shingles on the roof coiled black, the wooden foundation splintering under the ferocious heat.

Slowly, numbly, I rose to my feet and willed myself to turn away.

To run away.


Enjoy!! This chapter is the start of the crazy in my bo

Chapter 8 -- Guardian

‘‘She’s mesmerizing!’ Travis’ wolf, Arlen, spellbound, softly whispered.

Heading towards Megan’s departure, he inhaled Jasmine’s sweet scent again, tasting her wetness and desire, brought on by him, ‘I know, I smell every corner. Her smile fascinates me. Her readiness ignited by my touch intrigues me.’ Breathing out her delicate scent, he was enchanted by all things, Jasmine.

‘We need her!’ Arlen pleaded. Never expressing such a need for another she-wolf incited Travis’ interest.

Trailing shameless thoughts, fed into the excitement searing in his pants, the need to be close to her gripped at his sanity. Before anything else, he needed to take care of his dilemma with Megan.

Rounding the corner towards where Megan went, on cue, rammed right into him and growled from her anger.

She hissed, “How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone for that pathetic slut?” Her words were intended to intimidate him. The effect was not her intention.

Arlen, snarled at her blatant disrespect, ready to lash out. His agitation, overwhelming, pushed at the caged barriers to take control.

Without thought, Travis’ hand clutched at her throat. Claws extended, pricking her skin. A wave of fury suffocated him. Uncontrollable manic anger radiated throughout his body. Seething.

Growling, “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that ever again!” The hate and distaste of having laid with such a pitiful she-wolf, made his wolf want to devour her.

Megan’s wide, tear-filled eyes, protruded, ‘What just happened?’ She thought. “How can you talk to me like that. Treat me like this. I am your mate!” Her lip trembled, as her hands clutched at his wrist trying to pry him off.

The bile in his stomach rose.

Travis’ eyes narrowed at her, “Your mate?” He laughed darkly. “To be fair, you’re just another slut I fuck.” He spat at her.

He couldn’t control the laughter that surged out. The boldness of Megan’s claims was absurd.

“I claimed you! You are mine!” Megan whined.

Asserting her claim, caused his hold to get tighter and constrict her vocals further. Her claws extended, frantically gripping, prying at his grasp, drawing his blood.

“I am claimed by no one and most definitely not by you,” He howled.

Arlen once again, prodded against his barriers as the smell of his own blood provoked him.

“It’s because of her isn’t.” She spat, as her eyes switched from her blues to her wolf’s yellow.

He sensed the fear she had a few moments ago, change to rage, “She’s done something to you. Hasn’t she? You wouldn’t act like this towards me if she hadn’t.” Her voice was rising, her eyes looked directly at him. Goading for an answer.

“Oh, Megan, Megan, sweet Megan. When will you get it through your thick blonde head? I’ve told you from day one, we are nothing but two people exploring each other’s body. If anything, I could claim your body… right now.” He looked down on her, trailed his claws up her arm, to her shoulders, then up to her chin. Gliding the tips of his nails across her jaw. Demonstrating the power his presence had on her weak will.

His clench around her neck, tightened, as he sensed her arousal.

‘Disgusting! That she-wolf has no respect for herself. I told you, fuck her and leave her, but, no…, you wanted to entertain her lust.’ Arlen spat.

Looking into her eyes and smelling her arousal, made him react, repulsed. His nose wrinkled from the stench of her arousal. Letting go of her throat was a much harder task than he thought possible, “You are not worth it.”

Travis needed to get out of there, he stepped back and gave her one last pitiful look and walked away.

Immediately, Megan supplicated, “Don’t do this to me. Please! I’ll be ruined.”

Without looking back, he kept on walking, but needed to say one last thing, “I’m going to say this once, and that’s it. Stay away from Jasmine and me. If I find out that you so much as talked to her, I’ll rip your pretty little throat out!”

Megan’s reaction to his touch, though disgusting, involuntarily awoke his organ. He needed release. The thought of Jasmine sprawled on the bed played slowly on his mind; her legs wide, awaiting, inviting, was all he could think of since he laid eyes on her.

Heading to the training grounds, the thoughts of her skin against his were interrupted, by his father’s voice.

“Son, we need to talk…”

He glanced back, the look he gave Travis meant that they needed to speak now, and it was of importance. Standing there defiantly with his arms crossed, he waited.

“Jasmine’s, namesake ritual will be today, and as soon to be Alpha; I think you must perform the ceremony.” He stated nonchalantly.

Flustered from his previous thoughts, he declined, “Father, I am yet to be Alpha, and for that reason, I must humbly decline.” Bowing his head to him, showing respect.

“Son, I don’t think you understand me, I’m not asking, I’m telling, you will perform the ritual.” Alpha Ryant replied agitated.

Sarcastically, “Well, why didn’t you say so; Father?”

Getting him angry, was an evil pastime, his own personal mission in life, any chance that he’d get to ruffle up his fur was an opportunity he’d never miss.

“Look, I’m not up to dealing with anyone’s shit today, especially yours, Jasmine’s namesake ritual is much more than that. Her wolf will come out and claim her name and her people.”

Travis was taken back, “Her people, what are you talking about, Alpha?” He said, professionally, this news coming to light, wasn’t something he could joke about.

He seemed crestfallen. Defeated. He knew this revelation of what Jasmine, truly is, has come as a heavy burden. If the prophecies are accurate, which they always are, then it’s only a matter of time when the blood of wolf and man will line the valleys of their lands. “Come to my office, and I’ll show you.”

He walked behind his father; Travis noticed the changed in his demeanor. Shoulders slumped, graying more pronounced, and a lack of confidence. Their Alpha has slowly diminished in this short amount of time.

Arlen, whispered, ‘I feel a hesitancy in the air. Something lurking, poking at our immaterial being.’

‘I have a feeling, we aren’t going to like, what Father tells us.’ Travis stated.

‘I foresee that what he is going to tell us will change the course of our lives.’ Arlen stated.

Their gait was urgent enough to get them to their destination swiftly, entering the Alpha’s chamber, the disorganized arrangement of papers, scrolls, and books laid heavily around the office.

Alpha Ryant, walked towards his desk, with the heaviness that weighed him, he spoke and pointed to the scrolls before him, “These are the first scrolls of our ancestors. Many years ago, Elder Phyllis handed this down to Ursa before she found Jasmine. In one of the visions that were handed down to Ursa, by her predecessor, he gave her a quest to find these scrolls. Upon completion of Ursa’s voyage, she was brought to a small southern wolf pack. At that pack, a mated couple gave birth to the Warrior. Whisking the infant away, like a thief in the night, she performed the first rite of the prophecy with Jasmine’s first intended Guardian, Stan. There she was shone by the spirits that assisted in the ritual; these here scroll. Read it, and maybe you’ll come to understand my gloom.”

"The gods were alarmed by the beings crafted by darkness

War ensued

The creation’s beings, blessed by the Sun and Moon

Foredooming; stars were united by servants of Light

Accompanied by Two, Bonded by Thrice

Conquered by None

Warriors of Light against Darkness"

“What does this have to do with me?” Contemplating what his father was implying.

“Son, I’m sorry. I know we have preached about the importance of mates and having one’s soul tide to another. A Luna for this pack, but…”

Growling, irritated at his apprehension, “Spill it, father.”

He looked down, saddened by the news he would have to tell his son, “Ursa, believes you are one of the companions foretold in the prophecy. She thinks you’re the other Guardian.”

“And, what does that have to do with my mate and Luna?” Travis feared the implications.

“If you are the guardian, your wolf will forsake a mate and bind himself to Jasmine.” He whispered. “You would renounce yourself, as the pack’s Alpha and she would assume the role of the ultimate Female Alpha, with her guardian and consort, by her side.”

Travis felt the zap of electricity that bewitched the scroll, as his hands crumpled up the parchment that would forsake his happiness, “WHAT? Being Alpha is my goddess-given right! I will NOT give up my right, for anyone or her. I will NOT give up my mate!” His anger was not convincing for his wolf did not feel the same.

Foretelling, Arlen simply stated, as he retreated in the back of his mind, ‘Destiny will do us justice.’

His father stood there, watching him pace back and forth, as the turmoil of his reality seized me. Travis was irate! But the passion was his and his alone.

“Your anger is not Arlen’s, is it?” He asked, looking at him intently.

“No, the fucker, just stated, and I quote Destiny will do us justice end quote, what kind of wolf abandon’s his skin, at a time like this?!” Travis screamed in frustration.

“Look, son, I know this comes as a rude awakening, but the goddess does not do what she does in humor. There are greater concerns here, like your pack and this brooding war.”

Dejected and accepting that is all he can do. “I know…”

The Alpha looked at his watch, “Son, you have exactly thirty minutes to compose yourself. I told you this because I didn’t want you going into this blindly, but we have a namesake ritual to perform, and you must be the one to do it.”

As he exited, his office, he put a hand on Travis’ shoulder and squeezed. Encouragement swam through his body.

Travis mumbled, “Give me a minute, and I’ll be out.”

He ripped his shirt off, in anger and sat thinking of repercussions of leaving his legacy behind, of having no mate, and lastly, of Jasmine; the woman who abruptly came into his world and turned it upside down.

His mind flashed images before him of what he would miss. The love of a soulmate and the pups he’d bring forth to this world. He ached for her laugh. For her kisses. An all-consuming ache. He’d yet to know who his mate was, and he missed and longed for her already.

He screamed, “FUCK!”

‘Get it together, it is time, I can feel it.’ His wolf chastised.

‘Seriously! You are giving up everything for her! No mate, no pups, no pack, for her?!’

‘Like I said, have faith!’

“Ugh! I can’t stand you sometimes.” He stated in defeat. He heard his laughter in the back of his mind.

Walking out of the Alpha’s office, he was accosted by the smells of spices lingering from the start of the ceremony. He needed to get this over with and see where his life was heading.

He headed towards the commotion. Walking through the crowd, he heard the mumbles and ripples of the pack. In a matter of seconds, he would be standing in front of the woman that would be his doom or savior.

Coming into the clearing, he saw her. Gazing at her beauty. Her nervousness was endearing, as her eyes darted from face to face.

He was hypnotized.

Ursa’s words broke his trance, “Alpha Travis, we need to start, the Sun and Moon are about to join together. Look!”

Looking up at the sky, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Ursa walked over to the platform rock. Blessed and bewitched rocks, numerous spices, and minerals laid in her bowl, ready to cleanse this rite. Making her way over to the fire, she started to throw her elements into the light. The rising spits of fire bathed the site in its vivid hues.

While Ursa chanted, Travis watched the crowd, as wolf by wolf displayed themselves before them. Acknowledging that a new wolf would be bound to her flesh.

Finished with her chanting, Ursa looked at him to continue. Knowing that his next few words would change the course of his life.

Alpha Ryant stood beside Ursa, urging him and watching hesitantly. Lissa and her pack, not too far from where Jasmine stood, watched with interest. He looked for Megan, but she was nowhere to be seen, and neither were her sidekicks. Finally, Travis looked at Jasmine. He could see her internal battle. One minute the wrinkle between her eyebrows would be permanently stamped, the next a sly smile would escape her round plump lips.

Looking no more, he listened to the sky for an answer and was welcomed by the union of Sun and Moon.

‘Well, here goes nothing.’ He thought

“Pack be welcomed. We chant,” He stated.

The pack replied back, “Alpha, be welcomed. We bow.” As everyone stated their last words, all the wolves around the clearing took a knee, including Ursa and his father.

Travis was several feet away from Jasmine and turned to her. He gave her a small, sad smile, and started the chant.

Lobo ka humano u combinan, tuméen le leyes ti’ le k’iino’ yéetel le ujo.’

(Wolf and human combine, because of the laws in the sun and the moon.)

Enlaza ka saluda a k’aaba.’

(Link and say hello to your name.)

Atar ka saludar a pixan.

(Tie up and say hello to my soul.)

Enlaza ka proclama a reclamo.

(Link and proclaim your claim.)

As the words escaped, the air sizzled. He saw the jerk in Jasmine’s body, as her wolf struggled to be released. The luminescent spirit of her wolf, escaped from its cage prancing along the hilltop, ready to bind to the flesh. A howl erupted from her as she sprinted into the cacoon that would be her flesh forever.

Howl’s erupted across the valley. Wolf by wolf acknowledging the binding. Wolf and flesh bound by the blessing of the gods and goddess, Jasmine whispered her name for all to hear, “Sakira!”

Her words ceased Travis’ movements with surprise, as his wolf heard her name. The Guardian recognizing his Warrior.

Trembling, shaking, from the internal fight with Arlen, a growl broke from within, causing everyone to stare at him openly, curiously, and alert.

Enthralled. Arlen and Travis only saw her.

His growl alerted her, she looked at him and whispered seductively into the wind, “Guardian…,” as her eyes bore into his. He sensed her appreciation of his body as her lust-filled gaze lingered. He inhaled her scent, sensing her want.

His groin constricted itself against his pants, demanding. The sides of Jasmine’s mouth tugged, sensing his body’s reaction to the woman and wolf before him.

Everyone around them was silent. Watching the intimate battle before them. Increased sexual tensions wafted around them. Wolves departed to explore each other’s bodies as the intensions were rising.

He took a step towards her, her body called out to him, demanded his nearness.

He took another, waiting for her to tell him it was okay. Her smirk was all he needed.

He stalked forward, showing her with his eyes and gait that he was coming for her.

Her eyes were bright, filled with a raw urgency. She took a step back, beckoning Travis to follow, not waiting for an answer, she ran.

Editing now. I would greatly appreciate some feedback on this chapter for my book Where Eggs Bleed Brimstone.


To understand the reasoning behind a great – or notorious – man’s deeds, we need to first acquaint with his father.

This father’s story starts at a time between eras, at the dawn of a scientific revolution and the dusk of the Holiest Priest’s, our religious head’s, rule alongside the King, at the last fleeting decade where religion and science exist in harmony, at the eve of a war between God and the evolutionary theories.

Atheism was still heresy. Although the heretics were no longer burned, they were gravely chastised. Doctors were not yet allowed to dissect human cadavers, and many still believed that a priest could heal the wounded or the blind with a prayer. Astrologists had yet explored the nocturnal sky with their first modern telescopes, and many still believed that high above stood Heaven.

Although science was lacking in some respects, it had already revolutionized daily life; it simplified the process to produce and popularized several inventions we still use, including scissors, thermometers, graphite pencils, printing presses, and clear glass.

In fact, glass-makers could produce clear glass with such ease that everyone, including the individual who earned an equivalent of twenty-five golds per month, had it in a certain form.

Every building, the peasant hut as much as the castle, had clear glass windows although the castle’s glass was often aesthetically stained; every blind man – or woman – the foot soldier as much as the retired general, wore glass eyes in their orbits; every purblind scholar, the one we now call “the town’s librarian” as much as the court official, wore glass spectacles; every doctor, the village charlatan as much as the royal physician, brought with him (and there was no “her” yet) a glass thermometer and glass vials.

Every child, the butcher’s son as much as the youngest prince – still a toddler – played with glass beads; the butcher son’s beads were of purely colorless soda-lime glass, and the prince’s beads varied with hues reminiscent of beauties enjoyed by nobles and prominent merchants. They were of soda-lime glass fused with cobalt for the blue of a raven parrot head, with manganese for the purple of fine silk shirts, with gold for the red flesh of a fig – a foreign wonder – with silver nitrate for the yellow of gilded paintings, and with titanium for the brown of priceless bonbons, now known as chocolate candies.

Every drinker, the woodcutter as much as the duke, owned a drinking glass made of clear glass although the duke preferred his golden goblet encrusted with foreign rubies and green sapphires; every woman, the peasant’s wife as much as the noble lady, possessed a couple of glass accessories although the lady preferred wearing her diamonds.

Clear glass became so common that folks grew tired of it, and by the laws of capitalism we now are all familiar with, the price of clear glass plummeted to the point that, in some more developed regions, a bead of clear glass the size of an eyeball is worth less than a loaf of bread or a pint of peasant beer.

All glass-makers witnessed the price of the product of their blood, sweat and tears fall… All glass-makers, except for one.

I have to admit that, at first, this individual also worried about his glass business. Because he lived in a village whose name historians forgot to record - in other words, he must have lived in some small, secluded corner, this young newly graduated apprentice knew not of his own talent for glass-making, followed the trend of his village and sold his arts at the same cheap prices some amateurs did.

We must however note that his fellow villagers did notice a higher degree of aestheticism in his creations, but they did so as if from their subconsciousness, never truly grasped this impression and turned it into praises and marketing suggestions to the artist, and never paid a higher price than that offered by the artist.

Fortunately for the young artist, the Holiest Priest was journeying across the Kingdom for an errand, decided to stop by the young man’s village and enjoy some beer and women out of habit, and walked by his stall in the marketplace. Just before the Priest disappeared in the crowd, he caught a glimpse of beautiful glass masterpieces, took three steps backward, presented himself to the young man, bought all the pieces, and asked for the name of the artist.

When the Priest learned that the glass-maker was the young creator – and he was certainly young – the Priest was so impressed that he invited the artist to the Capital, introduced him to the King, and, along with the King, granted him fortune, land and a title – “Baron Glass”.

It was when this nameless artist became a baron that everyone suddenly realized that said artist was truly talented. His fellow villagers suddenly all claimed that they had acquainted with him at this or that gathering and that he was one of the most honorable, pleasant men – although Baron Glass never attended such gathering. They also added that he was certainly the greatest glass artist in history. Thus, from that day onward, the artist’s business had been booming.

It is also here that his story ends. Of course, his life went on for decades after this, but a story about this would bore the reader to death. Like many passionate artists who had finally achieved a certain level of fame, this man settled with the fortune he had received, focused on his one and only passion, and led the most mundane existence.

His youngest son’s life, however, was far from dull, perhaps because the said son was the antithesis of his father. For centuries to come, this son would be hailed as Saint Glass by our Brimstoneburg folks and be remembered as the black sheep of the Glass lineage by the rest of our Kingdom.

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This isn’t my most recent post on my chapter, but this is one of my personal favorite chapters.

Summary - Chapter 29 - Heart of Ice
Hours of the trial had passed and Lynae tried drinking a thick liquid to make sense of what she had just heard from Raina.  She coughed after chugging the drink.  “Getting yourself drunk isn’t going to solve the emotional turmoil you are struggling with.” Amelia spoke up.  
“Shut up!” Lynae said while chugging the liquid down.  “You tell me to shut up, but your mind is screaming ‘I don’t know what to do’.   What is it you want to do?”  “I – I don’t know.  I can’t help these people, Mia.  Look at me!  What kind of leader goes insane and is losing herself?!” Lynae shouted.  
“Cirra,” Amelia answered.  Lynae looked at Amelia.  “Believe me, I get it.  I was overwhelmed too when I found out I am to be Coronum Reginae.  I’m supposed to be the peacemaker for all the seven seas.  I have nightmares almost every single night about my past, about my future, and about moments like right now.  But right now, I’m not trying to make your fears minimal.  The question is, are you going to go to Arktis and help?  You can even make it a democracy and not be a queen over it.  Whatever you decide, it’s your choice.”  
“Mia, growing up, I had my life all planned out.  Going to college, get married, have kids, change the world… but since that horrible night with Juan, everything changed.  I thought I could put my life back together after that, but instead I’ve completely shut off everybody to try to be this cold hearted you know…” 
“Oh I know, believe me, and I believe everyone else got that vibe too.” Amelia said grinning. “Well, if you decide to go, you won’t be alone.” 
“Really? What about Atlantica and the Aula?” Lynae asked worryingly. “I took care of everything.” Amelia reassured her.  “Of course you did, would tomorrow be too soon?” 
“Not at all.  I’ll let Haruto know about our plans.” Amelia said.  “Wait, prince charming is coming with us?” Lynae asked.  “Of course, plus I don’t think he’ll give much choice in the matter if he won’t shut up about not taking him.” 
“Wait, you’re letting prince charming come along with us to Arktis?” Lynae stared at Amelia.  “He wants to find the final royal sibling and he feels that this can be knocking out some possibilities on where he or she could be.” Amelia explained. 
The next morning, Lynae, Amelia, and Haruto gathered together getting ready to head over to Arktis along with Raina who would be guiding them throughout the journey.  Rimulus was with the group before seeing them off.  “Think you can handle running the Aula without me?” Amelia asked.  “I won’t let you down.  I’ll make sure it was just the way you left it.”  Then Amelia smiled.  “I know you will.  If anything arises, you know how to reach me.”  “Of course, my lady,” Rimulus bowed.  
“What about the council?” Raina asked.  “They know about the situation and they can handle any of the cases unless they are serious enough needing my input.” Amelia explained.  Rimulus said goodbye to the group as they headed out.  
“So lead the way, Honorable Raina,” Haruto requested.  “Raina’s just fine,” She said lacking emotion.  “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect.  I just want to recognize you to the respectable title you’ve earned.” Haruto explained.  “Titles mean nothing to me,” Raina responded coldly.  
“Okay then, so you said that your people are suffering from starvation.  Does it have anything to do with the fishermen boats?”  Haruto asked.  “How did you know?” Raina’s eyes widened.  “Educated guess.  Back in Japan, they get a lot of imports from the Artic region of whale, fish, and whatever goods we find valuable there.”  Haruto explained.  “And you know this how?” Lynae quizzically asked him.  “My mother told me about the fishermen boats that come into the ports of Japan and where they go to fish.” Haruto said.  
“Yes, that is a big part of the reason why the mer in Arktis are struggling to survive.  The surface animals get ravenous as well and the big ones with the white fur have taken little mer children as food because there were no more sea lions or other fish around to eat.”  
“Dear god, that’s awful!” Lynae exclaimed.  “It is indeed.  Which is why a lot of families with smaller children moved away from Arktis to protect their children from being snatched from those vile creatures.”  Raina stated.  “What do you want me to do about this exactly?” Lynae asked with genuine curiosity.  “Help us moderate the fisherman ratio and help replenish the sea populace what it once was.  Help our people by teaching them how to defend our home!” Raina pleaded.  
“I can’t exactly go up to the boats and say, ‘uh, hey, could you stop taking so much of our food?  We live here too you know!’” Lynae said with sorrow. 
“Lynae’s right, we can’t let the terra know that the mer exist.  It’ll cause more damage than good to the area if they spotted us.” Haruto explained.  
“We don’t want to cause tension with the terra either by putting their lives in danger either.  We already have one lesson that we can learn from that.” Amelia explained.  
“Yes, yes, yes, the great war, but right now, this is our great war.  Surviving.” Raina stated.  
“What if we can drive them off without letting them know we’re here or killing them?” Amelia suggested.  “What are you getting at, Amelia?” Lynae questioned harshly.  “What if we do a little sabotage on their expenditure?” Amelia suggested.  “You may be onto something.  We can scare them off long enough for the fish and whales to repopulate!” Haruto caught on.  
“How?” Raina asked.  “With this,” Haruto showed his dagger to the girls.  “A dagger? I thought you weren’t going to kill anyone?” Lynae glared at him.  “Not for that, it’s for the fishing nets.  When they cast out the nets, we cut a gap in the netting to that fish can swim out!” Haruto explained some more.  “No offense, but not all of us are carrying daggers with us,” Lynae criticized his thinking.  “You and Amelia don’t need daggers.  Raina, do you have one?”  “Always by my side,” Raina said pulling up her tunic showing her dagger holstered on her hip.  
“They’re going to figure out something’s wrong and they’ll want to investigate, what then?” Lynae asked.  “That’s where we come in, we distract them as much as possible and draw them back to the surface.”  Amelia explained.  “How do we prepare then?” Raina asked.  “We will need to find some of your people to navigate around the waters and who knows when and where the boats will come in.” Haruto said.  
“I know a town where some of the mer reside at.  Be on guard though because they always are.” Raina explained.  “Can you blame them?” Lynae retorted.  
“We better make haste then if we are going to catch the next boat.  How long is the swim to Arktis?” Haruto asked Raina.  “Half a tide.” Raina responded. “That’s not bad at all,” Amelia commented.  “Well, let’s get a move on then!” Haruto exclaimed in excitement.  
Three hours in their journey, the group notices that the water fronts are changing realizing that they are getting close to the Artic barrier.  They also noticed that Lynae was acting quite differently.  
“Are you okay, Lynae?” Haruto asked.  “Okay?  I’m more than okay, I feel amazing!” Lynae said as she started doing flips in the water with ease.  Her breaths feel more at ease and is more energetic than usual.  Her tail and fins flutter as the cold fronts hit her bare skin and tail almost like it is rejuvenating her.  
Raina butted in and explained it to Haruto and Amelia, “She’s more naturally acclimated to colder waters.  All true Arktis mer feel this way when they hit icy waters.” 
“Makes sense, she always looked so miserable whenever I see her around.” Haruto observed.  “Cut her some slack, she’s had it rough for the past four months.  Let her have this moment.” Amelia suggested to Haruto to lay off.  
Another few hours later and the group reached their destination into Arktis territory.  Raina then guided the rest to the town where she knows some mer in hopes that they could recruit them for their mission.  They went into this tavern miles out of the main city of Arktis not knowing what to expect.  Amelia then began to be on guard from sensing that they are not too friendly with nonfamiliar faces.  
The men slammed their drinks down, scowled at the new faces entering the tavern, and one of them lit up after seeing Raina.  “Well I’ll be damned, you’re still alive, little lion!” The man swam over and hugged Raina tightly.  The men loosen up after hearing the man cry with joy.  “It’s good to see you too, Beluga.”  Raina said with a faint smile.  “Are these krill lubbers with you?” Beluga said with scrutiny.  “Be nice, you’re in the presence of the people who will solve all of our problems.” Raina scolded him lightly.  
“Ha, a couple of mer can’t solve the brink of extinction of the Arktis clan!” Another merman shouted.  “They’re not just any mer.  These three are the reincarnates of the three great royal siblings.” Raina explained.  The men bursted out laughing.  “Hey, Beluga, I think little lion being in the warmer waters has finally gotten to her head!” Another mer mocked.  Beluga’s face then crinkled with disappointment.  “Raina, they’re gone.  Even if reincarnation existed, none of their descendants survived.”  “Beluga, you haven’t seen what I have seen!” “I’ve heard enough!  You three better go back to where you came from before you make my friends or the other tribes angry with your offending presence.  You, young lady, are going to stay here and get some sense knocked back into you.” 
“Not a chance,” Haruto said getting ready to attack.  The men then grabbed their spears and weapons and rushed toward them. Then Lynae stepped in front forming spears of ice in her hands countering the strikes from the men.  She spun the spears of ice and slammed the ends of them on the floor.  She then got in a fighting stance pointing the sharp spear ends toward them.  
“You would want to fight a mer like me?  You dare fight a mer who thinks, breathes, and forms ice from the tips of her fingers?” Lynae snapped as she challenged the men.  The men stood unwavering not taking heed of what Lynae said and begun charging at her again.  She then formed a shield of ice plunging at one of the charging men, shot small daggers of ice at another pinning him to a wall, and grabbed the last mer giving him a bit of frost bite on his arm.  He screamed in agony.  
“Th-that’s impossible!  Our bodies don’t get frozen like this!” The mer screamed in terror at his blue tinted arm.  
“Now, who’s got the balls for another round with me?” Lynae said as she created frost from her hands in anger and determination.  Amelia and Haruto looked at Lynae with fear on her demeanor.  The men stood still this time not wanting to challenge Lynae for a third round of fighting.  
Beluga got up from the impact of the shield holding his head.  “Ergh, damn, for a little fish, you pack a bite in you.” Then Lynae interrupted.  “Look around you codswallop piece of carp, you’re outnumbered.  I won’t hesitate making each and everyone of you into a fish popsicle or a fish kabob if you dare try lifting a finger intending to harm or subdue me.  Now get your ice blocked heads into gear and understand this, I am not someone you want to mess with.  Understand?!” Lynae thrashed and hissed at Beluga.  
He then chuckled.  His chuckle grew in volume into a hysterical laugh.  “No one would dare talk or fight off any of us unless they are a true Arktis mer.  And that, young lass, you are.  “I’m more than an Arktis mer.  I’m your damn queen!” Lynae declared with her aura glowing blue and her eyes changing to an icy blue.  The men’s eyes widened at her appearance changing knowing instantly that she is the queen destined to rule Arktis.  The free mermen kneeled in front of her.  “Forgive me, Queen Eira, we’ve been wary of strangers coming to our waters possibly becoming a danger to our clan and tribes.  Ever since the decline of mer and food, things have not been easy.  I apologize if Raina has forced your hand in coming to aid us, but right now, we need your guidance!  Forgive our disobediences and help us!” Beluga pleaded while he was shaking.   
“Get up,” Lynae said coldly.  They slowly rose up shaking still.  “First of all, I have a name.  I am not Eira, I am Lynae, and you will address me as such.  Secondly, it was my own will that wanted to come to Arktis to help you scallywags.  I only commanded Raina to lead me here.  Thirdly, these two are the respectable crowned prince and princess of Oceanus and Atlantica, treat them as such.  Fourthly, lead me to your tribe, there is much to discuss on how to ward off the overwhelming amount of fishermen boats and to bring back Arktis to its former glory.”  
“Of course, my Drottning,” Beluga responded submissively.  Amelia and Haruto looked at each other feeling surprised that Lynae had taken this course of action on these mer.  Lynae then melted the ice picks that were pinning the mer on the wall so he could move and healed the other mer’s arm from the frostbite.  She then opened up again, “So, your name is Beluga?  Like a whale?” Lynae asked.  “It’s my known name, my given name is Bered, but everyone here calls me Beluga.  The one you pinned over there is Jonah, and the one you gave frostbite is Moby, but we call him Bowhead.”  Beluga introduced the rest of the men.  
“Pleased to meet some fellow Arktis mer.  When Raina told me about the issue, I couldn’t resist to come up here.  Do you know where the boats are from and where they are coming from?”  Lynae spoke up.  “Aye, but there’s so many, there’s some coming from Berring and another few coming towards the direction of Labrador.” Beluga responded.  
“No wonder there’s a shortage.  They’re cornering the fish and you guys in the middle.” Haruto commented on these upcoming shortcomings.  “Indeed, and that is why we’ve diminished to this many you see now,” Jonah explained further.  “We’ll lead you to our tribe and others that are our allies.” Beluga said leading the way.  
Sometime later, the group was escorted to an icy cavern with bright lights around shining the glassy walls.  The top of the cavern showed many different colors just as glass would in direct sunlight.  Lynae gazed at the sight realizing she felt where she belonged.  “It’s beautiful!” Amelia spoke out.  
“That is where part of our well known Arktis Glass is housed.  We have many caverns mostly below sea floor that has this glass.  A precious commodity that is used for trading.  Other seas have seen its beauty and has been in demand for centuries.” Bowman discussed about the history of the glass.  
“We can discuss about the plan in here.” Beluga escorted the group inside one of the houses.  They all sat down at a table sitting across from two other men and a maiden.  “Alright, don’t question, just listen, this is Lynae, she is the reincarnation of Eira, Princess of Arktis and one of the great five.  They’re here because they want to steer the ships away at least to the point of giving the ocean a breather for all the fish and mammals to replenish our waters.  This way our people can return and we can restore our realm to its former glory as well with our key player here.”  Beluga introduced the group to his friends.  
“What’s the plan, Drottning?” A man asked.  
“The plan is to scare off the boats.  We’re not going to kill the crew or sink their ships.  That will bring speculation and more scrutiny into our waters.  All we need to do is to turn them away from fishing around these parts for a bit.  We’ll need a scouter to let us know when the boats will be coming this way.  Then, we need mer posted on each target so when they reach the range of probable impact, then BOOM.  They won’t know what hit ‘em.” Lynae explained the plan.  
“How are we going to cover all the territories?  There’s not enough mer for each post.” Scirocco scrutinized the plan strategy.  “I’ve got buddies out on the other side of Arktis.  They’re only a conch call away to tell them the plan.” Bowman added.  
“Once we get everything settled, call them and instruct them to set up the trap and get someone over there to be lookout for any other liners.” Lynae instructed.  
They went over the plan.  The plan was that they would stand by with their long-headed spears and scythes to cut away the netting as they lowered it down.  However, they would bunker above sea level so they would be prepared once the scout gives the signal of an incoming vessel.   After the plan was set, Bowman called up his men he knew all around Arktis to give out the plan and to be prepared at all times.  
Days went by as they waited for any signal of the ships.  They waited and waited for a sign or a signal for preparation of incoming vessels.  Amelia then sensed something which shook her a little bit.  Then the conch rang for Beluga.  “Yeah?” Beluga answered. 
“We have three incoming vessels heading east of Blaberg.  Our scout just notified us, we’ll keep in contact to let you know the how the operation goes.” A merman on the conch said.  
“Good, keep me posted.” Beluga almost hung up as Amelia placed her hand on the conch.  “Hey, what the?” “Let her touch the conch, Beluga, she’s a telepath, she’s probably locating and visioning the situation.  
Amelia was able to pick up the signal and was able to locate where the call was coming from.  She managed to take control of one mer’s eyesight as her own as she saw the ships above them.  “Do you see them?” Haruto asked.  “Yeah, I’m not going to take over unless they’re struggling.” Amelia responded as her eyes were wide still concentration on the vision she saw.  
The men took their weapons and hid near the caverns until they lowered the netting.  Once they did after spotting some fish and larger creatures, one mer gestured swimming forward hastily.  They did what they were told and started cutting the hard felt, net trying not to harm the fish or the creatures being captured in the process.  They managed to cut a gaping hole in each of the vessels and fish began flooding out.  
“They did it! They cut the nets wide!” Amelia exclaimed.  The mer cheered victoriously.  However, their victory was cut short.  Amelia sensed that the crew was sending off divers to investigate on the gape of the hole to see what caused it.  Amelia then took over the mer she was seeing from his vision.  
“Dive low, dive low, we have company coming!” Amelia said in the mer’s voice pointing up.  
“They wouldn’t,” The mer said gaping.  
“Let’s not take any chances, let’s move low!” The other mer said supporting Amelia’s warning.  
After they dived low enough, the divers were seen scouting around the waters trying to find the culprit.  However, their lines would not be able to go down further and swam back up to the surface.  
“Good call, mate.  Let’s head back for further report to Beluga.” The other mer said.  
“He’s going to contact you after they reached to their tribe.”  Amelia said turning to Beluga.  “Are they okay?” Beluga asked.  “They’re fine and were not spotted.” Amelia declared.  “Thank the gods,” Bowman sighed with relief.  
“Don’t rest yet, they’ll probably alert the other fishing vessels to look out for any further strange activity while they try to go fish out their spots.”  Haruto said with caution.  
“He’s right, we’ll need to wait for the next call that’s not from Blaberg so Amelia can either locate them with her telepathy or we need to get ready to fight.”  Lynae said supporting Haruto.  
Unexpectedly, a call came through the conch and Beluga answered it.  “We have four vessels coming at approximately 45 kilometers an hour.” 
“We’ll be ready.  Take your post.” Beluga hung up the conch.  “That’s us, let’s move out!” Beluga instructed.  The crew of mer including Amelia, Lynae, and Haruto went up to their places and waited for the liners to come cruising by.  “Amelia, how many men can you see in one of the boats?” Haruto asked.  “About thirty-two or thirty-three from counting.” Amelia responded.   “They’re sending a few on some boats.  They’ve been warned from the other attack.” Amelia said seeing the vision.  
“They never make it easy, do they?” Lynae said prepping to attack.  “What are you planning to do, Your Highness?” Bowman asked.  “The plan goes on, leave it to me, Amelia, and Haruto to create a distraction on these guys.” Lynae said taking the lead.  
The three spread out and honed in their energy together. Lynae started freezing the water to make it choppier for the boats to go through.  Haruto took care of the divers by turning the tides and altering the pressure the divers are swimming in.  Their machines beam in red alert for high pressure.  The operators were looking at the calibrations and the locations of the divers.  They were puzzled because they aren’t far into the water but they are accumulating pressure as they swim further down.  “They haven’t reached sea floor yet!  How can they be at dangerous levels of pressure already?!” A crew member asked.  “Not sure, but we better get them up or they’ll surely meet their grave.” The supervisor instructed the divers to call off the search.  
Amelia called the fish to swim away from the sight and the school made a one eighty swimming away from the fishing spot.  She then focused to sabotage the radars and the radio systems.  The systems on all four boats went haywire.  The crew lost all contact and lost all visual underwater.  “What in the devil? Manatee to Stingray, Manatee to Stingray, do you copy?” The crewmember radioed.  “Manatee to Stingray, Manatee to Stingray, do you copy?” The radio was dead and everyone realized that their communications and technology on the ships were down.  “What is this? Ghostbusters?” The first mate asked.  “Radio and radar don’t show any malfunction wears of any type, sir.” A crewmate responded.  “Have we hit a spot of interference?” First mate asked.  “Most likely, sir.  Otherwise, it cannot be explained why the radio and the radar is down.” The crewmen responded.  “What in the devil could hinder our visual and communications?  Have the divers found anything suspicious?” First mate asked.  “Negative, however, the other men manning the subs found a sudden spike of barometric pressure where it was deemed hazardous for the men to continue searching.” The crewmen responded.  “This has never been an issue before when we came here.  Something’s up.” The first mate said with speculation.  “Should we report to the captain, sir?” The crewmen asked.  “Summarize the reports and I shall make arrangements in meeting the captain if we should change the course.  Obviously, we have something or someone wanting us gone from this area.” The first mate commanded.  “Yes sir,” the crewman answered swiftly.  
After forty minutes of agonizing waiting, the boats started to shift to go back to where they came from.  “They’re leaving. They’re turning around!” Bowman exclaimed.  “I don’t know what you did, but you certainly made them leave,” Beluga cheered.  “What did you do, Amelia?” Haruto asked.  “Let’s just say they won’t be fishing where they want to.” Amelia said calmly.  
The celebration began at one of their taverns they have around their tribal homes.  Everyone clanked their glasses and drank the heavy liquid with a strong presence of alcohol.  Everyone was cheerful, but Amelia was not knowing this wasn’t over.  
“A mjöd for your thoughts?” Haruto offered a glass to Amelia.  Amelia silently accepted the glass.  “It’s not over yet.  They’re acting like they won the war but they’ve only won a battle.” Amelia said sighing while drinking the glass.  “I’m sure they realize that, but this is the first time they are doing something about it.  Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Haruto peered into Amelia’s face.  “The first mate, I sense he’s going to do something drastic.” Amelia said with concern.  “We can worry tomorrow, tonight, we celebrate!” Haruto said with a smile.  He knew she couldn’t get it out of her head, but he knew he could distract her from it.  Haruto then grabbed Amelia’s arm and started dancing with her.  Everyone was clapping as they danced to the lively music.  
After the dance was over, Beluga came up to make a toast.  “May I have your attention?  This celebration and our victory today would not have been possible without a special little lady.  Honestly, when she said whom she was, I thought someone was yanking my tail.  Then when I saw what I never thought I would see in my lifetime; I knew she was destined to bring out realm to its former glory.  To the woman who brought this raid to life and long live our Drottning, Lynae of Arktis!” 
“Long live, Drottning Lynae, long live, Drottning Lynae!” Everyone chanted.  Amelia glared at Lynae’s direction with gleaming pride and joy for what Lynae did for the mer of Arktis.  

Here is part 2 since it wouldn’t let me post the whole chapter.


“Excuse me, Miss Drottning?” a little merboy appeared shyly to Lynae. Lynae turned toward him with her attention. “This is for you, for helping us today.” The boy handed her a miniature sculpture carved with Arktis glass in the shape of clumped snowflakes. “It’s beautiful, I will treasure this always, thank you, little one,” Lynae said with a genuine smile. The boy grinned and scurried to his mother in excitement.
“Seems like you found your true calling, Drottning,” Amelia said with cheer in her tone. “Maybe I have. It’s funny, when we reached here, it felt like home to me. I never liked the cold growing up, but ever since gaining this tail, it’s like I’ve been…”
“Reborn?” Amelia finished her sentence. “Yeah, do you think maybe this was a way of giving us a second chance in life in a sense?” Lynae asked. “Depends how you see it, some may say it’s destiny, some may say it’s luck, and others may just say that it’s another chance for another life.” Amelia stated. “What do you see it as?” Lynae asked. “It’s many things for me, I can’t say.” Amelia responded. “I hope you don’t mind us staying here for a few more days… just to make sure the boats don’t come back to come get at us.” Lynae pleaded. “Of course not, I know they’re going to come to prove there’s suspicious activity, but I won’t leave you alone if you don’t want to face them alone.” Amelia declared. “Same goes for me too. We need to trust each other to create harmony among the seven seas.” Haruto stated.
Everyone drank until late evening. They then went to their habitats to sleep off the drunken daze they’ve placed themselves into. Only a few would wake up in the morning not feeling the effect of heavy booze while the rest would wake with an agonizing hangover.

Here’s an excerpt from the second chapter of my story, My Full Confession!


“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Watson.” Greg said a bit awkwardly.
“We’ve talked before.” Mr. Watson said slowly, hobbling over to his chair and settling himself in. He set his cane next to the chair, relaxing his old bones into the familiar crevices and going immediately to his pipe. For a moment he coughed, alluding to some sort of poor health, before he filed the thing with tobacco and unearthed a box of matches. Certainly the smoking wasn’t helping any medical condition he was ailed with.
“Well, those were usually one way conversations.” Greg corrected.
“On behalf of your rambunctious offspring.” Mr. Watson muttered, puffing the first couple of breaths through his pipe and filling the room with foul smelling smoke. Nevertheless, he swung his pipe at the armchair across from him, as if insisting that Greg take a seat. It was an equally old chair, one that appeared to have never been sat in before. However as soon as Greg sat down he felt himself sink lower than expected, the springs were shifting now, and adjusting to the burden of weight that they had long since forgotten. And so there had been an occupant to this chair, long enough ago that it had been unused for a long while.
“Do you have any children, Mr. Watson?” Greg wondered.
“No.” he said simply. Greg nodded, that was what he had expected.
“A wife?” Greg asked again, this time a bit more hesitantly.
“No.” Mr. Watson said again, although even as he sat smoking Greg noticed the glint of a ring on his finger. So she must’ve died…perhaps talking about her was painful for the poor man. Greg decided not to correct him on his own life, and so he allowed himself to ease into the chair just a bit more, and focus again on his peculiar host. The man’s eyes sparkled with intelligence, and his long thin limbs hung very loosely at his sides, as if he hadn’t the muscle mass anymore to control them. He didn’t wear glasses and yet he squinted and strained to focus on things close to his eyes, presumably he had neglected his readers, that or he was embarrassed to wear them in front of other people. He wore a nicely fitted black jacket, underneath poked what looked like a shirt of dark purple, and his shoes sparkled as if they had just been shined. Obviously he had dressed his best for company.
“Would you like tea?” the man wondered.
“I’m alright, thank you.” Greg murmured. Mr. Watson nodded, blowing a great big billow of smoke again.
“There’s a notebook next to you on the table there, I would like you to write down what I am about to tell you.” Mr. Watson instructed. Greg raised his eyebrows cautiously, yet noticed as promised the notebook and a small ballpoint pen.
“Alright then, will it be long?” Greg asked apprehensively.
“If all goes well, this will not be your only visit. I will talk slowly; or rather I will talk as I can. Words have been coming much more slowly than before, I always used to talk so quickly that John could never…well never mind that.” Mr. Watson hesitated, closing his eyes for a moment as if he could not betray himself with such an introduction. “You are still a detective, are you not?” he asked finally.
“Yes I am.” Greg agreed, wondering now just what he had gotten himself into when he accepted this invitation.
“Well then, detective, I’ll give you now my full confession.” Mr. Watson decided with a heavy sigh. “And you may do with it what you may. I fear I don’t have much longer, and so a prison cell would be short lived, if necessary at all.”
“A prison cell? Mr. Watson, surely you have nothing to be guilty of?” Greg asked with something of a laugh, trying to figure out just what harm this old man might’ve done. Yet Greg’s humor did not appear to be shared, for all the while he chuckled his host seemed all the more uneasy, as if he had been hoping for a reaction a little bit more legitimate.
“The state you find someone in is not always the state they originated in.” Mr. Watson warned. “In any case, Mr. Lestrade, we all have our pasts.”
“Yes Sir, I suppose we do.” Greg agreed hesitantly. “Some more criminal than others.”
“And that is the story I intend to tell, Detective. The story of my past, how long ago it may have been. The story that I had never shared, save with those who had lived through it along with me.” Mr. Watson murmured.