I had just closed my eyes. It was bright and early morning when I closed them. It was deep night when I opened them. I was inside, sitting at a desk when I closed them. I was standing at a campfire in the middle of the Mojave desert when I opened them.

I looked at the fire, and despaired.

“It’s not real.”

481 words.

“Paradox. There can’t be two versions of me in the same timeline simultaneously. Besides, I’m on the trek they are about to undertake. And I had to fight and bleed just to get this far. They won’t make it, they haven’t a fighting bone in their body. They never had to claw to survive.” If that is my future self in the mirror, then I had to have gone back through time. Somehow. Without disturbing my current self. But the very act of jumping through time splits timelines. Right?

1,932 words.

A traveler sits with Weaver for a while, and conversation ensues. The words are civil, but it forces her to admit her role in certain venues. Bitter is a too familiar flavor.

666 words.

Weaver goes to a casino and finds herself in the middle of a game. After breaking one game, she leaves and finds herself before a Reaper of Men and is sent off with a cat.

3,918 words.

Weaver goes a-flying where she shouldn’t. Of course. No harm, no foul. But pain comes just the same.

1,230 words.

“What’s your game, Esse?” The mead was finally making me warm.

“Game?”

“You don’t dedicate resources without a payoff to be had. This is very much a Weaver problem. You don’t have to investigate.”

“It is, as you say, a game.” He raised his horn. “I could use the amusement.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ass.”

He smiled, a genuine gesture. “Yes.”

6,703 words

My itinerary last night: Respond to the Ravens’ call and go to the Boneyard. Go see a Svartalf about some politics. Go check on some folk in the Nine Realms and avoid an obvious trap. Then end the night in the Nagalands because I think I’ve had more than my fill of drama, and I do need to practice being calm.

I’m sure there is a homily about well made plans and how they go awry.

1,297 words.

Keri and her espirito discuss the terms of their agreement. 428 words.

I went to the Nagalands with wings deployed. Partly because I felt the entity’s curiosity when I deployed them during “Split The Sky”, and partly to let it know I was okay after “A Sacrificed Heart”, and partly to use that as excuse to make sure I had not harmed entity nor robe. I felt … Continue reading →

“Do you know where this is?” She gestures around her.

“No.” I look around and see the ruins of something like Aztec pyramids. Some of the carvings I can sort out. Renditions of feathered snake skulls are everywhere. I see glyphs of priests in regalia and draped with various skins including human. I also see warriors with jaguar skins and obsidian blades. I recognize glyphs and images of Quetzalcoatl, Mictlancihuatl and Mictlantecuhtli, Tlaltecuhtli, Tonatiuh, and Teccuciztecatl in the tops of standing monuments. There are others but they are obscured by the overgrowth or I don’t know them. “Heh. This probably represents my total knowledge of Aztec culture and its pantheon. No wonder it’s sparse and crumbling.”

5,282 words. Viewer discretion advised. Violence (as usual), and consumption of human blood (oh).