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The Sand Flea (Part X)

Continued from The Sand Flea (Part IX).

“Hey, something’s ahead!” Evoxe’s voice was sudden, and woke Ask from his doze.  His head was somewhere soft, and the sun’s warmth felt nice on his skin.  He looked upward, and saw Korenila’s face.  He was resting his head against her chest, and she was leaning against the forward wall of the straw cart.  Beside him, Horse had her nose under his hand.

Korenila opened her eyes. “What is it, Evoxe?”

“I think it’s-” he trailed off momentarily before he continued, “It’s a house.  Nobody should be living this close to the Drop.” Read the rest of this entry »

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The Sand Flea (Part IX)

Continued from The Sand Flea (Part VIII).

Ask continued to run through the healers’ temple, desperately seeking someone who believed him.  His back began to burn with a dull ache. “Bandits are coming!” He pointed back, behind the temple. “They’re that way!”

Several scoffed at the panting goblin.

“Liar!”

“You’re for Njolr!”

“You’re just going to rob us blind!” The patients’ voices kept the priests from hearing, and as Ask tried to run towards a male priest that had fancier robes than the rest, a hand wrapped around his ankle, and a group of seven patients bustled him out the same door he entered through. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on July 1, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Sand Flea (Part VIII)

The nights were growing cooler, and Ask’s back almost didn’t hurt at all anymore.  Despite his recovery, Korenila insisted he should stay, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t mind taking orders from her.  She was kind.  That must have been why, he was sure.  He was given his freedom to wander the barnyard, however, and wander he did.

Horse was never far behind, and nobody seemed worried about Ask’s presence.  He expected people to avoid him, or to be rude to him.  Instead, the stable hands were polite and helpful, and several offered to help him saddle Horse.  He declined in the most polite way he knew, and a few laughed good-naturedly, while others frowned at him for his poor word choice. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on June 27, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Ashen Children

Hero, they called him.  He was the slayer of dragons and a killer of monsters of all stripes.  He saved damsels aplenty, and even saved the princess now and then.  He slayed the Fen Witch and killed her familiars.  Truly, he was a man among men, and a prime example of what they could do, if they possessed as much willpower and the correct mindset.  He was tall and strong, with a steady jaw and the perfect chin.  Every woman in the city swooned over him and begged him to marry her, even if he must at times leave to do heroic deeds for the good of the country.

Despite their want for him, he denied each woman in turn, for to endanger a person who chose to attach to him would destroy him, he said.

We knew he was full of shit, though. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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The Truth in Dreams

I gently touched the fat girl’s cheek, and her eyes opened in silence, rather than the scream a normal girl would have on seeing a strange, nude man atop them. “Tell me of your dreams.” I prompted as I opened my mind’s eye to loosen her quiet tongue.

“I’m visiting Drep. He’s the river king, and has a bunch of bandits at his beck and call. I’m down visiting him with Chris and a few other friends. Drep decides it’s time for a game that I don’t want to play right after I finish having a shower. I can’t get my shirt on fast enough, so I don’t bother and just walk out past everyone, half-dressed. I hear Drep taunt me about my gut, saying my t-shirts look horrible with it. A store nearby draws my attention. It’s closed, but the door is open. As I step in, I hear one of my brother’s friends comment about how he’s being a bit mean. Drep concedes with a bullshit excuse about ‘there is a disease she was diagnosed with but never appeared.’ He sends two snipers to protect me. I steal some stuff and lose my backpack, coat, and pendant. The snipers catch up, and I let them come with me. I search until the shopkeepers show up, then I pay them, and find my bag, and eventually my coat. We finally head out, and we miss the busses back. A janitor shows us a way out that’s not dangerous, and I get home. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on February 14, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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