r/shortstories • u/FyeNite • Sep 28 '25
[Serial Sunday] It's Time for a Reality Check!
Welcome to Serial Sunday!
To those brand new to the feature and those returning from last week, welcome! Do you have a self-established universe you’ve been writing or planning to write in? Do you have an idea for a world that’s been itching to get out? This is the perfect place to explore that. Each week, I post a theme to inspire you, along with a related image and song. You have 500 - 1000 words to write your installment. You can jump in at any time; writing for previous weeks’ is not necessary in order to join. After you’ve posted, come back and provide feedback for at least 1 other writer on the thread. Please be sure to read the entire post for a full list of rules.
This Week’s Theme is Reality! This is a REQUIREMENT for participation. See rules about missing this requirement.**
Bonus Word List (each included word is worth 5 pts) - You must list which words you included at the end of your story (or write ‘none’).
- Rope
- Research
- Retribution
- Somebody mistakes a dream for reality or vice versa. - (Worth 15 points)
What is reality? The fundamental truth that grounds us all. Something we take for granted. But it is easy to lose sight of it. Lies and illusions can seem just as real, and far more compelling. And sometimes we can’t even recognize reality - until it smacks us in the face!
Do your characters understand the reality of their situation? Can they truly be aware of what is going on out of sight, or behind their backs? Perhaps things changed while they were away, or maybe they've grown, and reality looks different to them now.
It’s time for a reality check.
Good luck and Good Words!
These are just a few things to get you started. Remember, the theme should be present within the story in some way, but its interpretation is completely up to you. For the bonus words (not required), you may change the tense, but the base word should remain the same. Please remember that STORIES MUST FOLLOW ALL SUBREDDIT CONTENT RULES. Interested in writing the theme blurb for the coming week? DM me on Reddit or Discord!
Don’t forget to sign up for Saturday Campfire here! We start at 1pm EST and provide live feedback!
Theme Schedule:
This is the theme schedule for the next month! These are provided so that you can plan ahead, but you may not begin writing for a given theme until that week’s post goes live.
- September 28 - Reality
- October 05 - Shield
- October 12 - Trapped
- October 19 - Useless
- October 26 - Violent
Check out previous themes here.
Rankings
Last Week: Quit
First - by u/ZachTheLitchKing
Second - by u/AGuyLikeThat
Third - by u/MaxStickies
Fourth - u/Divayth--Fyr
Fifth - by u/Lothli
Rules & How to Participate
Please read and follow all the rules listed below. This feature has requirements for participation!
Submit a story inspired by the weekly theme, written by you and set in your self-established universe that is 500 - 1000 words. No fanfics and no content created or altered by AI. (Use wordcounter.net to check your wordcount.) Stories should be posted as a top-level comment below. Please include a link to your chapter index or your last chapter at the end.
Your chapter must be submitted by Saturday at 9:00am EST. Late entries will be disqualified. All submissions should be given (at least) a basic editing pass before being posted!
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On Saturdays at 1pm EST, I host a Serial Sunday Campfire in our Discord’s Voice Lounge (every other week is now hosted by u/FyeNite). Join us to read your story aloud, hear others, and exchange feedback. We have a great time! You can even come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Grab the “Serial Sunday” role on the Discord to get notified before it starts. After you’ve submitted your chapter, you can sign up here - this guarantees your reading slot! You can still join if you haven’t signed up, but your reading slot isn’t guaranteed.
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Ranking System
Rankings are determined by the following point structure.
| TASK | POINTS | ADDITIONAL NOTES |
|---|---|---|
| Use of weekly theme | 75 pts | Theme should be present, but the interpretation is up to you! |
| Including the bonus words | 5 pts each (15 pts total) | This is a bonus challenge, and not required! |
| Including the bonus constraint | 15 (15 pts total) | This is a bonus challenge, and not required! |
| Actionable Feedback | 5 - 15 pts each (60 pt. max)* | This includes thread and campfire critiques. (15 pt crits are those that go above & beyond.) |
| Nominations your story receives | 10 - 60 pts | 1st place - 60, 2nd place - 50, 3rd place - 40, 4th place - 30, 5th place - 20 / Regular Nominations - 10 |
| Voting for others | 15 pts | You can now vote for up to 10 stories each week! |
You are still required to leave at least 1 actionable feedback comment on the thread every week that you submit. This should include at least one specific thing the author has done well and one that could be improved. *Please remember that interacting with a story is not the same as providing feedback.** Low-effort crits will not receive credit.
Subreddit News
- Join our Discord to chat with other authors and readers! We hold several weekly Campfires, monthly World-Building interviews and several other fun events!
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- Interested in being a part of our team? Apply to be a mod!
4
u/ZachTheLitchKing Sep 28 '25 edited Oct 03 '25
<Casting Shadows>
Chapter 94
Mica crouched in a thin layer of sand near the oasis, carefully counting footprints. It was easy to pick out Nuut’s presence; the small, round dimple where her brass peg leg showed where she walked about. The rest were a bit harder to discern.
Nearby, a local member of the town guard that Mica had bumped into the night before - Majal - was walking in a narrow circle around the cluster of footprints. Her leather armor made a gritty whisper with each step; sand trapped within the protective layers rendered it useless for stealth. Mica preferred taking her chances with silk and wool.
“I count four,” she said, looking up at Majal when the other woman knelt across from her.
“Five,” Majal countered.
Mica rolled her eyes. “Not including Nuut. The peg leg.” She pointed at one of the dimples.
“Oh. Then I agree.” Majal stood back up. “Four people, one of them with a particularly long stride.”
“And one that’s heavyset.” Mica pointed out the footprints that were better defined than the rest.
“And you said none of them were wearing white?”
Mica shook her head. She remembered seeing the group together, briefly, while keeping tabs on everyone the night before. Although she had not gotten close enough to listen in on what they were talking about, she could see them clearly enough. Nuut had been the only one in the white garb of a Disciple of Flame.
“No, they were wearing dark grey. Almost black.” Good for blending in at night in the desert. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not Disciples as well.”
“Easy enough to change outfits,” Majal agreed with a sigh, crossing her arms. She had already followed the footsteps back toward town while Mica had pursued Nuut’s separate path, but both had encountered the obvious problem of returning to busier streets and getting lost in the crowds, or the sand getting thin enough as to be unreadable.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on Nuut, but she hasn’t met with them again yet.” Mica doubted she would, either. As mad as the Desheryan warrior was in her quest for retribution, she was still cunning.
It didn’t help that every time Mica stepped through the shadows to look for Nuut she was worried about encountering that old woman, again. No one had ever been able to strip Mica’s freedom like that. Every step now came with the fear of appearing in that small room, the air suffocatingly hot and laden with incense. Her head spun as she remembered the cackling woman. How could she know such things?
A footstep nearby. Mica spun around, a knife up her sleeve sliding into her palm. Before she could swing, a hand clamped around her wrist and a forearm shoved up under her chin, pinning her to a rock.
“Mica, calm down!” Majal’s voice cut through the fog and Mica was back in the present. The tall guard looked intent on holding her down until she capitulated.
It was hard for Mica to ‘calm’ herself while being pinned like that, but to Majal’s credit the pressure from her forearm was more against her collarbone than her throat, so she could still breathe.
“Okay… okay, I’m calm.” Mica took a deep breath - or as deep as the pressure Majal was putting on her chest would allow - and dropped her knife. This seemed enough of a gesture, as Majal eased up and helped Mica back to her feet.
“Still worried about the old woman?” she asked.
Mica nodded, picking up her knife and sliding it back into her sleeve.
“I researched the town’s census record,” Majal continued. “If she’s here, she’s one of the Disciples passing through and not a resident.”
“She’s here,” Mica said. “You don’t hallucinate something like that.”
Majal crossed her arms and grinned. “I sure don’t.”
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Mica asked, narrowing her eyes. Majal may have been cute and highly competent, but Mica wasn’t going to take flak from any pretty face.
“No, no, not at all,” Majal said, holding out her hands placatingly. “I meant that we didn’t both hallucinate the same thing. You came falling out of that tarp smelling like smoke and coughing. I poked my head in seconds later and could smell the fire. The air was still warm, too. No signs of her. So whatever mystical person you ticked off, they’re real, they just might not be here.”
“Maybe she’s not an old woman at all. Maybe she’s a ghost.”
Majal chuckled and shook her head. “I’d have an easier time believing she’s three kobolds in a long coat, holding themselves together with a rope harness."
“What’s a kobold?”
“Local legend,” Majal said. “Imagine a little lizard person, about yay-tall,” she held her hand down to just above knee-level. “Not much shorter than you.”
“Oh, clever. Making fun of my height.”
“What height? Go get some height and I’ll make fun of it.”
“That’s it, I’m leaving.” Mica turned her back to Majal and took large, exaggerated stomps to stalk away. Behind her, she could hear the tall town guard laughing more.
"Oh come on, don't be short with me," she said, walking fast to catch up.
"I can figure out what Nuut's up to without you."
"But we have so little evidence."
"You've got a really small variety of jokes."
"Ye-" Majal started but cut herself off with laughter. "No fair. You can't make fun of yourself!"
----------
WC: 913/1000
All crit/feedback welcome!
r/TomesOfTheLitchKing
[Chapter Index: Casting Shadows]
Notes:
-
Theme: Majal confirms the reality of Mica’s experience with the old woman
-
Bonus words: Retribution, research(ed), rope
-
Bonus constraint: Mica’s brief panic attack made her mistake the real Majal for the nightmare of the old woman
-
Recommend any new readers use the linked chapter index above; those chapters receive more edits than the ones in past sersun posts
-
It has been 10 in-universe days since Chapter 1
-
Mica encountered the old woman (and met Majal) in Chapter 72
2
u/Nate-Clone Oct 01 '25
Heya Zach! Short crit this week dude to college assignments
Nuut had been the only one in the white garb of a Disciple of Flame.
“No, they were wearing dark grey. Almost black.”
Uh oh. It's the Disciple of Darkness! Definitely could see Nuut turning to the literal dark side like that.
a knife up her sleeve sliding into her palm.
This is a funny image to imagine, kind of shocked that not a lot of action movies take this approach - angling your arm down to let a knife slide Down your skin and eventually land between your fingers. Seems cool.
“What’s a kobold?”
“Local legend,” Majal said. “Imagine a little lizard person, about yay-tall,” she held her hand down to just above knee-level. “Not much shorter than you.”
“Oh, clever. Making fun of my height.”
“What height? Go get some height and I’ll make fun of it.”
“That’s it, I’m leaving.”
Two things.
One, good joke.
Two... I've learned that these are apparently a real legend, so now I have to stop working on my 'budgeting a movie' project to to give this a look. Damn you for making me learn!
Alright, I'm back, and the most interesting thing that I learned is that apparently poor treatment of your kobold can lead to disastrous consequences, like being cut up into pieces and being left in a pot.
Cut and left in something filled with water, huh? Is that cut, perhaps, typically through the neck? And can this pot be big? Particularly sized shaped exactly like a bathtub?
Theory of the day, Cass is a kobold. Or at least idolized one in her youth.
But we have so little evidence."
"You've got a really small variety of jokes."
"Ye-" Majal started but cut herself off with laughter. "No fair. You can't make fun of yourself!"
Tell that to every single person with low self-esteem XD
You really came swinging with the jokes this time! Charming chapter, I don't have much crit apart from not much apart from exposition and banter happening this chapter, but obviously that's pretty important, and I'm sure Nuut and her newly tamed kobold certainly aren't stalking them in the shadows.
Good words, sorry if my crit was in short supply!
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u/Lothli Oct 02 '25
Heya 2ach!
Seems like this chapter's another mystery-for-me-but-not-for-any-long-time-readers type chapter. I'm curious about this old woman and I don't quiiiite remember Mica, but it'll all come back with time!
A few things I noticed:
...Majal eased up and helped mica back to her feet
You've gotta capitalize that there name!
Her leather armor made a gritty whisper with each step; sand trapped within the protective layers made it useless for true stealth.
You've got two "made"s in a row here. My personal recommendation would be to swap the second one with rendered, as that's a word with the same definition. And it starts with R and is kinda fancy, so you can pretend it's an extra bonus word!
Not much to catch this time around! I'm glad we're ending off with some puns. Good words, and see you next week! Cheers!
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u/AGuyLikeThat Oct 03 '25
Hiya Zach!
A Mica chapter, I see. What skullduggery will she get up to today, I wonder?
Well, you know what skullduggery I will attempt, of course. I'm going to see what I ca suggest tweaking in the opening paragraph! Just a stylistic suggestion today, but see what you think.
Mica carefully counted footprints while crouched in the thin layer of sand near the oasis.
I think that placing Mica in the scene should be your primary focus within the first sentence, and describing what she is doing there should be the dependent clause. Suggest;
Mica crouched in a thin layer of sand near the oasis, carefully counting footprints.
Could save you a precious word, at least.
Majal is still tagging along - interesting. Could be useful if (when?) things go south. Unless the guard is not entirely as they seem...
sand trapped within the protective layers rendered it useless for true stealth. Mica preferred taking her chances with silk and wool.
Not sure why the assumption that a town guard is supposed to be stealthy? Maybe lose the 'true' adjective, then it would seem more of a general assessment rather than a comparison.
I like the detective work going on here, and the mild frustration Mica is feeling is convincing.
Her head spun as she remembered the cackle of the woman who knew too much.
Something feels off, using such a complex descriptor for the old seer. I'd be inclined to split it into an uneasy memory and an internal thought.
Her head spun as she remembered the cackling woman. How could she know such things?
I had a good chuckle over the ghosts and the 'three kobolds in a trench coat', but I think maybe change it to 'long coat', unless they are used to trench warfare for some reason. ;)
And we end with a barrage of jokes, which makes me suspicious that things might be about to get serious next chapter... Overall, though, I liked the levity here and the subtle reminders of the disposition of the clandestine characters involved in the oasis shenanigans, even if the chapter is a bit short.
Good words!
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3
u/Nate-Clone Sep 28 '25
I Am What You Eat
The ending of the previous chapter has been updated. Read it here.
Chapter 70 - Candy Is Bad For You
Alfred arrived on the pirate's vessel shortly after Basil and company. He'd gotten the signal from one of the men on board, and that could only mean one thing.
"Is it done?" The cloaked noodles asked the captain, who responded with a nod.
"Neutralized and contained," Kandree said, not looking particularly pleased. "We'll get them to your father before sundown."
"And the Tensul?" He could see her gripping the pair of glowing chopsticks in her hand.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She put her hands behind her back.
"Don't play dumb with me. Do you know who I am?!" Alfred said as he marched up in front of her. She was almost a whole head and shoulders taller than he was.
"Yeah. The Zubber baby." She said with a smirk. "You can't kill a defenseless child, so you made a pirate do it."
"CAPTAIN NO LIKE YOU." A bulky, orange pirate approached her. "TOSS YOU OVERBOARD!"
"No, no, Plump. Unfortunately, we won't be doing that." Kandree scoffed, stopping her from stopping closer to Alfred. "You go raise the anchor."
The beast grumbled and made her way to the other side of the ship, ignoring the rod attached to the chain and just pulling on it herself.
The plan was simple - arrive at the harbor before Basil and his minions, and pay a pirate to get their attention and lure them in with a ride to Zubber Island. Then, when they got on…sleeping gas, courtesy of Professor Avacados, and sturdy ropes, making for a very snug trip across the water.
And it worked. Sure enough, the three of them, plus their two slaves, were unconscious, tied up in a cell in the lower decks.
"Why do you need all that money, anyway?" Alfred asked as the crew raised the sails, being guided inside the captain's cabin.
"Tryin' to build a new home for us."
"And how is stealing and killing for the sake of profit going to help you, exactly?"
"I could ask you the same question." Kandree glared down at him, her hand brandishing the scimitar around her waist.
"If you want proper payment, then I expect to be treated kindly." Alfred crossed his arms, trying to hide the fear in his eyes.
"I know your tricks, Zubber man." She shot back. "You're just gonna kill us the minute we serve your purpose."
His stomach sank.
"And… you're still going along with it?"
"Anything for some coin," Kandree said, flashing a smirk at someone behind Alfred. "And if you think you can run off and not pay us…"
Before he could even turn around, he heard a sword being sheathed from its scabbard. He tried to run, but an iron grip on his shoulder locked me in place as the sword pressed against his neck, pushing the hood of his cloak off.
"You've got another thing coming." He heard the voice of her first mate and actual mate, Yup. "How'd I do?"
"Maybe unsheath the sword before sneakin' up, next time, hun." Kandree chuckled, kissing the brown fellow on his cheek.
Alfred groaned, Yup thankfully putting the sword away. "Just…get them to the Zubber Nest and my father will pay you." He said through gritted teeth. "I have spent weeks hunting this boy, and I am not about to let it go to waste thanks to some lowlife rats."
"Fine, fine, I'll get those three there." She sighed, as if all of this was just some kind of game to her. "Not that I want to, anyway."
"Don't tell me he brainwashed you, too," Alfred grumbled. Did he get another?
"Noodle man…have you ever actually had a conversation with Blondie?" Kandree asked as clouds began to form above them, the waves growing a bit rougher. "When you told me he was some kinda demonic alien, I wasn't expectin'...a scared dude with a fuzzy thing on his shoulder."
"He killed my friend."
"Well, maybe he deserved it. Zubber suck."
"You…" Alfred growled, gripping the dart gun on his belt. "You take that back."
"Not in a million years." She retorted, her voice rising.
"You people just don't get it." Alfred sighed. "What is it going to take for you all to see that Zubber rule is inevitable?"
"I already know that, noodle man." Kandree took her hands off the wheel, stepping forward. "Where do ya think I'm from?"
Alfred froze. He had his suspicions upon first seeing them, but…
“You're…you're a…”
"Yep. I think the professor called me 'Experiment KAN-D'." She said, a scowl in her voice, like talking about this hurt her inside. "They wanted to make a fourth race. One made entirely of sugar. The Tessot."
He'd only heard myths of this project. All the files on these experiments were burned at his father's orders. They were the ones responsible for killing the old professor…before Don Welo literally had to make a new one.
"And look at us now, noodle boy." A smirk curled onto her lips, motioning towards the crowded ship. All Zubber-made, but now an individual army of free beings. "Do we look like we belong to the Zubber?"
Alfred shivered, given the only possible answer.
"... No."
"Exactly. And from what I've heard about Blondie, I don't think the Zubber's as 'inevitable' as you say they are."
She grabbed the chest of gold Alfred owned her, and finally tossed him the final Tensul.
"We dock in fifteen minutes," Kandree growled. "Now get out of my cluckin' office."
END OF SIXTH SERVING
WC: 915/1000
Notes:
-
Theme: Reality - Regardless of how tantalizing candy corn is, it is still a teeth-rotting sugar triangle.
-
Bonus words: ropes
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5
u/Lothli Sep 29 '25 edited Oct 02 '25
<A Transient Evening Primrose>
Chapter 11: Pupillary Response
The rest of Sunday passes in a blur, and Monday morning comes.
Rain drums on the roof, the first thing I hear upon waking. It's the kind of rain that makes one want to curl up with a book and a warm cup of tea, but I have neither the time nor the opportunity.
I put on a black jacket, the one with a waterproof hood, and step outside. The trip to school is uneventful, the smell of rotten rain and rubbery tires drifting through the air.
Today's classes are more of the same. These lessons feel so meaningless, teaching things that don't matter for people who aren't Rani.
It's just busywork, and I know that.
I'm not going to learn anything here, but that doesn't mean the time spent here is wasted. There will be a piece of paper with my name on it. That's all that matters.
That's all that will keep us afloat.
So Rani does the work. Rani takes the notes that she doesn't really need. Rani does the turn and talks, Rani answers the questions after observing her peers.
To stand out is to be noticed, and it's best if no one looks twice. Rani is a cute, average college student. Third in the class, not some shining star, but far from dead last.
Rani is the kind of person that others can respect, but don't envy.
Rani is the kind of person people will forget.
"Hey, you're Rani, right?"
"Yep yep!" A cheery, bright tone, as Rani turns to see who's addressing her. "I'm Rani. How can I help you?"
A boy. A bit on the short side, with brown hair and freckles.
"I'm Jake." He pauses, shuffling his feet. "Sorry for bothering you, but, uh, I was wondering if you'd be interested in getting coffee with me."
I don't like this. Already, there are a few pairs of eyes watching, a few curious looks being shot Rani's way.
"Hmm..."
I don't have a good enough grasp on his motivations. There's plenty of witnesses still around, so it's unlikely but not impossible that this could turn ugly.
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to pass. I have plans."
There are a few possible responses here.
If Jake is a regular, well-adjusted, average individual, he will likely be disappointed, and may try again later.
If he is not, there's a chance he'll lash out. But Rani has faced much worse, and the possibility is low. And yet, I can already see the darkening of his face, the tightening of his fists.
"What, are you too good for me? You're not even that pretty, y'know. Maybe if you put some effort in, got a better haircut, maybe then you'd actually have a shot at getting a guy."
There's a pounding in the back of Rani's head. A lightheaded, fuzzy feeling that tingles down to her fingertips.
It's more difficult to navigate this line of dialogue. Rani can't just brush him off, because it will just come back to bite her. I have two goals here: Rani needs to come off as sympathetic, and Rani needs to come off as normal in front of the jury of my peers.
An appropriate amount of anger, yet a response that would broach no argument.
"I'm sorry if I gave off the wrong impression." My words are curt. "I'm not looking to date right now, and I'm not interested in someone who would say such horrible things about someone he just met."
There's a brief flash of surprise in his eyes, and he stumbles over his words. "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like—"
"Goodbye, Jake." I pull my backpack tighter as I turn away.
There's a brief moment where I think that this encounter is over.
A hand closes around my wrist.
Rani whips her arm back, spinning in a sharp one-eighty. The alarm bells scream, the pounding in the back of my head reaches a fever pitch, and I'm suddenly very, very aware of my surroundings.
People. So many people. They're everywhere, and they're watching.
Rani can't expose herself now. There are very few things more important than Rani's social life.
But her autonomy is one.
Her backpack, slung off her shoulders as she turned. It's the first thing that comes to mind.
It hits him square in the chest, and the wind is knocked from his lungs. He's forced to release my arm as his hands go up to clutch the impact point.
"Do. Not. Touch. Me."
My words are slow, and I make sure each one is heard by everyone.
"Apologize."
"I'm—I'm sorry." The words are gasped out, barely audible.
Ahh.
It wasn't worth it.
It super wasn't worth it.
I can see the looks, the judgement. It's sympathetic—only a real fool would think the guy in the right—but the fact that this happened at all will stick in their minds.
They might think Rani's oversensitive. They might think Rani's a badass. They might admire Rani for her quick and dirty retribution. They might just snicker at Jake and his stupid, impulsive move.
The worst part is that I can't figure out how I could have acted differently. I can't see a future where Rani avoids the encounter entirely.
Maybe she should have accepted—but the eventual adverse reaction would have blown back so much harder.
Maybe she shouldn't have hit him—but if he'd hit her instead, that would have been a far, far bigger problem.
The only silver lining is that no one was recording, but the witnesses are enough.
Jake is still on the ground, gasping for breath.
"Learn, and be better."
With that, Rani gathers her backpack and leaves.
The rain still pounds, and the clouds are still dark.
Rani's had a bad day.
WC: 966
Bonus words: Retribution
Bonus constraint: Not used
Theme: The theme is Reality. Rani explains her carefully curated mask, only for reality to shatter it immediately and decisively. A reality check; for just like the basketball throw just one chapter prior, even perfect plans often fail.
2
u/ZachTheLitchKing Sep 29 '25
Howdi Lothli
Starting off Monday with some grey skies after such a lovely weekend, this feels ominous.
The word "it" is hit a few times in a row in this early line:
It's raining. I hear it when I wake, the drumming on the roof. It's the kind of rain
I suggest changing that second sentence and simplifying it down to "I hear the drumming on the roof when I wake up." or something of similar affect.
What is making the rain rotten?
the smell of rotten rain
I feel like the wording here got a little confused, as it implies that the lessons are important for Rani:
These lessons feel so meaningless, teaching things that don't matter for people who aren't Rani.
Was the intended effect: "These lessons feel so meaningless, teaching things that only matter for people who aren't Rani."
Oof, this feels too real in hindsight:
There will be a piece of paper with my name on it. That's all that matters.
I'm not sure what this means:
Rani does the turn and talks,
Tonally speaking, I feel like this is intended to be a question and should have the appropriate mark at the end:
"Sorry for bothering you, but, uh, I was wondering if you'd be interested in getting coffee with me."
Looks like we've got another boy vying for Rani's attention and time, what precious little of it she has to spare. Unfortunately, since he failed to specify a time-and-place for getting coffee, her excuse of having plans is instantly met with hostility. At least she didn't waste her time with him, given the fast and sudden reaction he gave.
Bad touch!
Glad Rani got out of it very quick and efficiently though. Unfortunately for her, all of those eyes are filling the silence with all of the wrong feelings.
Rani needs a hug.
Good words!
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u/AGuyLikeThat Oct 04 '25
Hiya Lothli!
I've been enjoying Rani's return these past few weeks, it's nice to read your words again.
Another solid chapter here. The slightly melancholy start to a day where things go wrong works very well, creating a nice through line for the events of the day. This unfortunate encounter makes me think about the other fellow that Rani took an interest in earlier - though I forget his name - was he watching this play out. I wonder?
Not much to crit in terms of line edits and such, so I'll render my opinion on a couple of very minor points instead.
but I have neither the time nor the opportunity.
I feel like Rani might focus on what she needs to do here, rather than bemoaning the lack of opportunity - like 'but I've got things that need to be done' type of thought. You know the character better than I though, of course.
"Apologize."
A guy like Jake, I think, should be rendered more obviously vulnerable before extracting an apology. Perhaps if Rani's heavy bag knocked him on his back so she could lean over and deliver the line from an intimidating position, his ready capitulation might feel a little more earned.
No changes are necessary, just a couple of thought that might be worth considering moving forwards. That's all I can think to suggest in terms of helping.
Good words!
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u/MaxStickies Sep 29 '25 edited Oct 06 '25
<Thosius>
Chapter 107: Bound to Wood
Content Warning: Entrails
From his hiding place amongst bushes, Baltathaius stares up the slope, towards the camp. He counts the people he sees; their numbers are much reduced from last time, especially the Heragians. His cracked mouth curls into a grin.
And then he spots Berethian, emerging from behind a rock, looking out. Briefly, their eyes meet, but Baltathaius sinks further into the leaves. Berethian returns to camp.
He wishes he could go up there and wring the man’s throat, lay waste to the others. It would be so easy. But retribution can wait; he must move on, find Perithus.
Tearing off another piece of loose armour, he sneaks through the undergrowth.
Atop a ridge, a way’s north of camp, Pellia stops beside a boulder. Her followers are only halfway up the slope, lagging in spite of their efforts. While she waits, she surveys the land around them: the familiar dark, burnt farmsteads and villages stand out against the emerald grass in the valleys, as they have across her entire journey, yet she sees more signs of the fighting up here. A fort lies in ruin up on a mountainside, its mighty wall caved in by a giant slab of rock.
If that was a sorcerer… maybe the worst of them have stayed north.
With the others now caught up, she marches down the ridge’s other side, onto a battlefield. Broken blades and bones with tattered flesh are strewn about the pebbles, alongside pieces of black armour. A shrivelled head stares at her from its place of rest, mouth open in a scream.
They weren’t expecting the monsters. It was all so sudden.
She remembers her trek down south, before it happened. Just a usual inspection of the border forces. She recalls hearing the call to arms, and looking out the window of Fort Tarkanes, seeing all those Heragians running towards her. And the creatures right behind.
So many died…
“Commander?”
Snapped out of her memories, she turns to her followers. The taller and stouter of the men, Marolus, was the one who spoke.
“What is it?” she asks.
“Have we stopped for a reason?”
“I… just needed to align myself. Let’s move on.”
She keeps a hand close to her blade as they pass the scorched settlements, though nothing leaps out at them. Few plants grow on the dry slopes, providing little cover.
No places for them to hide; they must be elsewhere.
The mountains on the other side rise high above them, forming a wall split only by a steep-sided gorge, a single pine at its entrance. As they walk closer, Pellia spies a dark shape on its roots, large and unmoving. Its identity obscured by the tree’s shadow. Only once she’s beneath the boughs does she discover the shape is a body. A crested general’s helmet clings to the corpse’s head, yet the rest is unclothed, and the arms are tied around the trunk by thick rope and chain. Guts, mummified by the stale valley air, spill out in tendrils from the dead man’s open belly.
Pellia kneels down, places her hand on the corpse’s cheek.
“Who is it?” Derilli, the slighter of the women, asks.
Pellia points to the bindings. “Must be General Olos; I was told our scouts found him chained up, disembowelled. Such an undignified end.”
“I remember him from a skirmish with some bandits,” says Nariun, the other man in her group. The scar across his face arcs as he frowns. “They ambushed us in a narrow gap, and one got his knife inside my helmet. Olos threw him to the ground and twisted his neck.”
“Should we bury him?” Marolus asks.
Pellia shakes her head. “We don’t have time.”
“Maybe we could untie him from the rock?” the helmeted one suggests, their voice wispy and clipped. “Give him some dignity.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.”
She grabs one hand as they take the other, and with some fiddling the chains clank to the ground. The rope soon joins them. As they stand, Pellia frowns. “Did you say rock?”
“I did,” says the helmeted one.
“But this is a tree.”
“Pe—Commander, respectfully, it is clearly stone. Are you feeling okay?”
“I…”
She looks into the pine’s branches. Now, she realises how the needles twitch and squirm, how gleaming magic travels in waves over their surfaces.
But it was just a normal pine. I swear it was.
She hears the rumbling voice of the Pine, deep inside her mind. “My sibling has been found. The roots are tapped, soon to be drained. You must hurry, but so too be careful; we know not what the warped one may do with our power.”
“Do you know where he is?” she asks. “Can you show me?”
“Alter your vision, as you hold my trunk. And look north.”
Her fingers grasp at the gnarled bark, which coalesces around her touch. Turning her head left, towards Perithus, she switches her vision. And she gasps as the ground disappears, as she stares straight through the world. Over a background of stars, immense lines of magic run like rivers from disparate directions, all centred on one point. Right at the root of a mountain.
“I see him,” she thinks with the Pine. “He can’t hide from me.”
“Then go, good friend. I will do all I can to stall him.”
Pellia blinks and the tree is gone, replaced by a rock. Though everything spins, she finds her feet, after a few staggers. The helmeted one holds her arm. “What just happened?” they ask. “Your eyes went hazy all of a sudden.”
“I tapped into the Pine—”
“You did what?!”
“—and it told me where to go. We need to hurry.”
“We’ll match your pace,” Seralia, the archer of the group, says. “Even as it tires us.”
The others nod as Pellia glances between them.
“Glad to have you all,” the commander says. She returns to the path, the others right behind her, keeping step.
Context:
General Olos was mentioned in Chapter 40: Plans in Action
The Pine, and Pellia's communications with it, are featured in these chapters: Danger Draws Near, The Pine, Blood-Streaked Stone, How To Proceed
WC: 994
Bonus words: rope, retribution. Bonus constraint: Pellia sees the Pine via magic, even though it's not there.
Crit and feedback are welcome.
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u/FyeNite Sep 28 '25
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