#vacea

It was a terrible sight, and a terrible feeling. But even when Raem ducked inside a house built inside a shop’s cavity, an airlock hissing shut behind him, he didn’t pause to take a lungful of artificially scrubbed air. There was no time for that. Every moment, the once-lush planet Sabil was dying. Scientists scrambled to find one more resource they could exploit, failed, then blamed the politicians who spoke of greater times ahead while being too afraid to take real action.

Raem wasn’t too afraid. He crossed the small living room and began to climb the ladder set against the burnished white wall, ignoring the elevator that would only add to the mess. While the lower floor was home to modest and functional living quarters, the upper level was full of offices and quarters for the small army that Meali had gathered.

Well, not army, Raem mused, pushing the hidden door out of the way, but an army nonetheless. They had the will and they had the means. They were the preservationists, those who aimed to save Sabil, in direct contrast to the government, who hunted them while doing absolutely nothing.

“How close?” Meali asked Raem as he climbed onto the floor and shrugged his coat off. She stood in a doorway, a worldwindow in her hand. The only reason that she and Raem were putting up with the technology was that paper would ultimately be more wasteful. Not to mention its scarcity.

“Less than a month, sparrow,” Raem answered. He took her by the shoulders and kissed her in greeting. She smiled beneath his lips and pulled back to allow him to slip his gloves off of his prematurely spotted skin.

“Less than a month,” Raem repeated, “until the little prince sends his warriors to the palace in Rinthia. After their success, the entire planet of Vacea will be rocked, their strongest leader a young girl, and the idiotic Council here will have to seize total control of that lovely planet.

“You’d love it there, Meali,” Raem continued, leading her further into the building and into his room. There were no windows up here, limiting the risks of radiation poisoning and being found, but also causing Raem to forget exactly how bad it could get out there. That was why he took walks when he could, even though it was dangerous. Raem smiled fondly, taking his mind away from the depressing landscape of Sabil.

“The sky is ever so blue on Vacea,” he said, “a deeper color than I ever imagined the sky could be. There are still trees, hundreds of them in living forests. Their leaves are so varied, some broad and falling like paper, and others that are small and sharp like needles. I haven’t been to the sea, but the palace has several magnificent murals and tapestries that depict something more vast than even the canyons here.

“I’ll show you someday, Meali,” Raem said earnestly, buttoning up his indoor shirt while she dropped his outdoor clothes down the hole in the corner. “Both the real sea and the artwork in the palace.” He laid on the narrow bed, looking up at Meali’s beautiful face, framed by short blonde hair. He’d see it shine someday, shine as healthily as that mute sundaughter’s, Matta from Vacea.

Meali smiled, pulling the transmental glass panel over the top quarter or so of Raem’s bed, tinting everything just a little bit green.

“I look forward to seeing it all,” she said. “Now, remember - the census officer meeting is in a few days, you can’t miss it.”

“Don’t worry, Meali. I should be able to come back in less than two Vacean days, just in time for Trevor and Mauj to join us again. By the way, have they answered my message yet?”

Meali pressed a few buttons on the controls near Raem’s head. “They did. They said that the trade with House Tilt will be conducted a few miles outside Rinthia, to the south of the pass. Now,” she said, standing back and grabbing Raem’s hand with her own. “Don’t forget who you are and where you come from, you lettuce.”

Raem grinned, squeezed Meali back, then folded his hands on his chest, preparing for the usual days-long induced coma. “As long as you don’t forget me, sparrow, I’ll always come back home to you.”

“Stop with the sap.” Meali rolled her eyes, stepped to the wall, and flipped the switch welded there. Raem took in the sight of her standing there one more time, before his eyes closed and his mind slipped between stars. He flew bodilessly through the crystal-clear atmosphere of Vacea, down to the surface, and into the form a pale boy who was just waking up. Good timing.

***

Slyn startled fully awake at the sudden presence. He didn’t let it show on his face, but his heart sank as Raem’s orange, incorporeal form clouded the edges of his vision once more.

In a slightly more high-tech modern world, the fey live in a floating city. They are aloof and have a policy of non-intervention... which means that the only fey people see are the mischievous, villainous kind. Through fey gifts, curses, and blood, various heroes rise to the challenge. This is a fairytale/superhero/modern fusion!

Original works!

Fairytale Superheroes

Characters include Pine (from The Ugly Duckling), Dawn (from Sleeping Beauty), Blythe (from Snow White), Andrew (from Snow White and Rose Red), Kala (from The Little Mermaid), and Dave (from Aladdin).

Random pieces written, mostly focusing on Blythe's angst.

Unveiled

In a modern, like-ours world, a secret community of magical people thrives: fairies, vampires, shapeshifters, centaurs, selkies, you name it. Their government and organization is scattered, but comes to a critical conclusion one day: to reveal their existence to nonmagical humans worldwide. Cue product placement, social media handles, trending tags, accessibility concerns, new legislation, new controversy.

Story focuses on Vivelle, a vampire, her kidnapped fiance Zachary (she didn't kidnap him, bad guys did), and a huge cast of side characters with different origins and approaches to the new order of things.

Lots of random pieces written focusing on different characters, some plot bits with Viv and Zach, some longer whump-y angsty ones.

Into Technology

The city of Scindite rises a mile above the ground on a massive stalk, built on a disk that turns a full rotation every day. It's protected and policed by graduates of an Academy, which is doing under-the-table research to give people superpowers. Successes are celebrities, elite soldiers and operatives. The Academy's failures are held in a long-term care facility... Except they're actually memory-wiped and dumped beneath the disk of the city, left to fend for themselves among the jungle and gangs of the city's underside.

Characters include Damian, Renna, Bee, Wyatt, Elden, Cosmina, and Cole. They each have little superpowers and are doing their best to survive on the underside.

A whole short story written, other pieces and backstories too. I wrote a FS story in this world once for Febuwhump.

Lucite

Ankifrah is a demon princess of hell, and just a little rebellious. After an incident involving a volcano, she's sent up to the mortal world to go to a year of high school. She's grumpy about it, but it IS just one year. She makes a friend named Will, and together they try to solve a string of violent murders before the killer can sacrifice everyone on prom night.

Maybe half of a novel written?

Vacea

Sci-fi trappings. The planet Vacea has a complicated system of magic that allowed it to withstand attacks from neighboring warring planets. Now they thrive... until the youngest prince, a shadowchild with stigmatized powers poisons a noble, starts a failed revolution, orders the king and queen to be assassinated, and is captured. Behind the scenes, though, is a radical group from a neighboring planet utilizing abandoned technology from before the treaties that would have given their soldiers access to Vacean magic.

Characters include Slyn, Mattie, Rinter, Gin Ha, Emmeline, and Vath, people with a variety of -child magics and expertise. This was whump before I knew what whump was.

Some random scenes and also maybe a third of a book written

Unhallowed

The Unhallowed Lands are their own brand of magic, vibes aiming for a high-fantasy feel without the elves and dwarves of lots of fantasy. Lots of worldbuilding and new humanoid fantasy species! There are the Terrible Royalty, who are more plant than animal; the Saihrwn, with colorful hair and a literally musical language; the Cobbs, immortal Frankenstein-ish people with an eternal outlook; the Lialts, magic-touched humans with a huge variety; the giants, with their agriculture specialties and unique martial styles; and the small folk who don't have a special name (yet.)

Main story follows Ward, the kingdom's heir, Laurel, a giant, and Rike, a Saihrwn, as they try to work through the kingdom's traditions and establish friendly contact with the non-magical people, all while fending off cosmic forces and evil kings.

Big story half-written, but aimless, some smaller pieces written. I also did a FS oneshot in this world, if you remember!

Disabled Princesses

If I only ever get one thing published, I want it to be this. Considering adapting one of my above worlds (Vacea or Unhallowed most likely) for this series. I want to write some middle-grade novels about princesses with disabilities doing cool things. I have a few characters in mind but haven't actually pinned much down yet.

“Lord Tirra is your next target,” said Slyn, addressing the four in the large conference room that now belonged to him. It had previously been two empty houses, but they’d knocked down a few walls and made it the largest room in the cave of New Rithia.

“Makes sense,” said Farin, the smaller man. Well, he wasn’t much older than Slyn, but he was half a head shorter and had much darker hair. “I think.”

“He’s the one with all those soldiers that harass people, isn’t he?” asked GinHa. She retied the pale yellow ribbon in her black hair.

Slyn nodded once. Even though he’d never asked, it was obvious that GinHa was Marandese. It was the seventh Vacean state to join the united coalition, but it was only last because it was a collection of tribes rather than a proper country as many of the others had been. In that way, Marandala was a template that the New Vaceans wanted to copy - each town or clan ruling themselves with no input from the planet’s government, because no planet-wide government would exist at all. Slyn knew it would never work. He’d studied enough political theory and history to know that. The clans of Marandala were fading out and many were leaving their homes for the Galhaltran States and Perint. New Vaceans had good intentions, but they would ultimately fail. If not during the revolution, then after it. Why Raem persisted in it, even if they both knew it was destined for failure, confused Slyn. But he wanted his family back, so he built up the cause anyway.

((OOC - I wrote that a while ago and have no idea if it’s actually valid but this was just a first draft))

“His soldiers are Vacea’s army, though,” said Rinter, a scowl of confusion on his face.

“His soldiers,” argued Slyn, listening to Raem, “are the main force that would stop us. Besides, Vacea doesn’t even need an army. Nobody has attacked us for generations. Why would they start now?”

“But what if somebody does?” Rinter continued.

“Then our citizens can take care of it. We’re not entirely helpless.” Slyn was vaguely disturbed by the smirk that appeared on Matta’s face. She was from the nearby state of Chackalo, and had one of the strongest parent gifts in the world. Matta was a sundaughter, and her most prevalent talent was moving small things without touching them. As far as Slyn knew, only twenty sunchildren were alive, all from Chackalo or Attorya.

“Lord Tirra, then.” Rinter drew all eyes back to him, and reclaimed the conversation. “Any other instructions?”

Raem’s orange smoke swirled around Slyn’s head like a snake. He didn’t bother taking form much anymore, preferring to sit back and direct. “Ignore the servants in his house. If they wear the New Vacean knots and hide their weapons, then the servants will let them pass. But the soldiers they will have to sneak past.”

“Wear the knot and conceal all your weapons,” Slyn said out loud. “Lord Tirra’s staff will ignore you if you ignore them, with the exception of the soldiers.” He got a bit of a rebellious thrill from restructuring Raem’s instructions, though he did just say exactly the same thing. Raem usually didn’t mind.

The four nodded. Slyn looked them over - Farin, GinHa, Rinter, and Matta. Only Farin was older than Slyn. They were talented and obviously comfortable with what they were doing, even if none of them had ever been part of an assassin team before. Much less killed anyone.

It was early the next day when Slyn heard how it had all happened.

Emmelyn shivered in the chill of the smaller conference room in the palace. Her parents, the King and Queen, sat in front of her, listening to the warrior across the table give his report. Ganna stood behind her, the man who worked on cases such as these. It was early, but she’d been up much earlier before.

“The guard shifts were about to change,” the warrior was explaining. “It was maybe two or three in the morning, and we’d been on shift for a few hours already. Nights are always difficult, and I have to admit that my eyes wanted to close. But I’m a loyal soldier through and through, Your Majesties, and I never once dozed off.”

“There were lots of guards on the wall, but they were all sleeping,” GinHa said, her feet up on the table and a bowl of grapes in her hand. “We practically just waltzed right in.” A grape flew through the air and landed in her mouth.

“It only took a few moments for five strong men to pull us down and douse us with baha powder. That’s all I remember.”

“Thank you,” said King Hela. He dismissed the warrior and called in a large woman who worked in Lord Tirra’s large house.

She took a deep breath, evidently nervous. “I’m just a laundress, Your Majesties. I’m not sure what I can offer...”

“Any information at this point is good information,” said the investigator behind Emmelyn.

“Well,” began the woman. “I saw four people I didn’t recognize walking through the hallways. They seemed a bit suspicious. It would have been very early in the morning, close to three o’clock. My mind was a bit muddled, though, Your Majesties, and I didn’t see them well. I can tell you that two were female. But they were gone quickly and none of them spoke.”

Farin sat down next to GinHa, less celebratory but still smug. He stole a grape from her bowl, and she glared. “We sort of got lost inside, but there was this fat lady - ”

“Don’t say fat, she wasn’t that bad,” Rinter interrupted from his position leaning against a nearby wall. “Just... larger. She was strong, though, with a big basket of clothes. She saw our knots. She let us pass, just like you said.” He glanced up at Slyn, who nodded.

Another grape sailed through the air, wrenched from the perfect trajectory of GinHa’s throw, unsupported before finding Matta’s pale hand. She grinned at GinHa and raised her eyebrows at Farin, urging him to continue the story.

He did. “She told us where to find the wing where Lord Tirra usually stayed.”

“And you,” said King Hela, looking at a new witness, a young girl who looked terrified to be standing in the presence of the King, the Queen, the heir, and a royal investigator. “You said you saw something.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl said in a small voice. “I was about to go to bed, after beginning the next morning’s breakfast. Two girls were walking around. One of them asked me where Lord Tirra’s room was. I assumed they were new maids so I told her. They turned around and joined two boys and went the direction I had said.”

GinHa set the empty bowl on the table. “And another girl told me and Matta exactly where to find the guy. I thought she saw the knots, too, but she looked really suspicious. I’m not sure she ignored us like the other woman.”

Behind Emmelyn, Ganna leaned forward. “I know you’re nervous, but I must insist you tell us everything. What did these people look like? Was there anything specific you saw?”

“One of the girls was Marandese,” the girl said nervously. “The second one didn’t talk, and I don’t think she could at all. All four had...” She trailed off.

Ganna urged her on. “Had what?”

“New Vacean knots,” squeaked the girl, then she hid her face. Emmelyn’s parents both inhaled sharply.

“Hm.” Ganna leaned back. “Thank you for your time.”

“Dismissed,” repeated King Hela. The soldiers guided the girl out.

“Will the maid be a problem?” asked Slyn levelly. He looked at Matta, who just shrugged. Then she grimaced and rocked her hand.

“Maybe,” GinHa translated. “She seemed pretty conservative.”

Slyn sighed and changed the subject. “So you found Lord Tirra’s room without a problem?”

“Yes, sir,” nodded Farin. “And nobody stopped us.”

“New Vaceans,” sighed Ganna when the girl and soldiers left. “That explains why everybody but that maid lied to us, and how the assassins were able to just walk in. I had hoped they wouldn’t be a problem.”

Emmelyn stopped him. “New Vaceans? Who are they? Why does that explain things?”

“We did run into a bit of trouble...” Rinter objected.

“A corpse doesn’t talk,” GinHa grinned.

“It was just one, and we hid and rigged the body so nobody can blame us.” Farin reached to fill a cup with water. “They’ll think he committed suicide.”

Matta’s eyes gleamed with pride. She made the stream of water from the pitcher miss Farin’s goblet and splash on his shirt. GinHa laughed again.

“New Vacea is what a fairly organized group of revolutionaries call themselves,” King Hela said before Ganna had a chance.

“But most people like them. To many people, they’re the good guys,” Ganna said. “If somebody uses a specific New Vacean knot on their colored ribbon or scarf or such, one we haven’t been able to identify, then they’re granted passage to practically anywhere. It’s a breach of some unspoken rule to wear the knot if you’re not actually affiliated with New Vacea.”

“Anyway, we found the old geezer sitting in his chair, practically dead already,” Rinter continued, a smile still on his face from Matta’s antics.

“Matta stopped him from making noise by pressing his cape against his face.” Farin didn’t want to be left out, though he looked distinctly disgruntled at his damp shirt. “GinHa went up and stabbed him, then Rinter saw some guards coming and we jumped out the window. He was still twitching, but - “

“We waited until he died,” GinHa protested. “We were just out on the roof instead of in the room.”

Funny, thought Slyn. She was afraid of him disapproving of their methods. He didn’t care, but he was, honestly, a bit sick. None of the four looked like they were battling their consciences at all. They were joking and laughing, confident that any blame would be pinned on Slyn. That was what a leader was for, he supposed. He did wish one of them would show a bit of remorse or guilt.

“We followed your instructions and did everything you asked,” said Farin. “Now we’re done, right?”

“They’ve never made a move as bold as this before.” King Hela shook his head. “We never did anything about them because they never stirred up any trouble.”

“So you know where to find them?” asked Emmelyn. She fiddled uncomfortably with her long sleeves.

“No,” sighed King Hela after a moment. “I wish I could say otherwise and go there right now. Assassinating a lord is reason enough to make them disband.”

“No, there are still more adventures to be had,” Raem said, and Slyn repeated his words dispassionately out loud, not bothering to think of a different way of wording it. But “adventure”... what a horrible way to put it.

Matta grinned while GinHa chuckled and Farin’s eyes lit up. Rinter shrugged as if he didn’t care, but Slyn knew that his emotions were as high as the others’. He didn’t smile with them.

“You are dismissed for the rest of the day,” Slyn told them. His unamused expression and monotone voice shooed the team out faster than his words alone ever could. He sat heavily on the chair GinHa had vacated when the curtain behind her had settled.

“You’re doing well,” whispered Raem, pleased. “You may grow into this role better than I ever thought you could.”

“Shut up,” growled Slyn, quietly enough that nobody beyond the curtained doorways and covered windows could hear. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care about any of this. I just want to go back home.”

“Better not let anybody hear you say that. My plans could be tossed out the window.”

Slyn sneered and clenched his hands. “I told you that I don’t care about your stupid plans. If they crashed and burned, I wouldn’t cry a single tear over it.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Slyn wished he could pull them in. Raem had shown him unkindness in the past for talking back like that. But he didn’t apologize, just stood and left the room, going about the next diabolical task that would leave his soul scarred for good.

Sure enough, as Emmelyn approached Vaneth’s small training room, she heard muffled thumps and clangs - the curtain in the doorway was heavy to keep the noise in. Emmelyn moved it aside and gently knocked on the wall to let Vaneth know she was there. It smelled like wood and sawdust inside, which covered up the old sweat nicely. The temperature was also kept lower than the palace at large, much like the sword arena. Emmelyn welcomed the cool, a contrast to the heat of emotion in her head that had grown with her walk.

Vaneth looked over from his position near the middle of the room, standing over a large but decimated bag of sand that, luckily, had not broken open all the way yet. Even still, grains littered the ground from a myriad of stress holes, and the seams looked ready to burst. He stepped away, ghosts of his emotions still flickering across his face. Emmelyn was no treechild, but she knew anger and sadness when she saw it. A blunt sword dangled from his tight fist, and he’d taken his short, greenish cape off, though he was still dressed for dinner otherwise.

“Emmelyn,” Vaneth greeted her. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Emmelyn shrugged. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Funny. That’s what he said, when he came to the sword arena. To /study/.” Vaneth raised his dull sword and struck the bag of sand. It was a halfhearted blow, though, and did nothing but force out more of the bag’s innards.

“Van... ”

Vaneth dropped his sword in disgust. It clanged across the floor, finally resting next to another sand bag, its blade ringing. They both stared at it for a second, then Vaneth sighed and went to sit on the bench.

“I’m just... so confused.” He buried his hands in his long blonde hair. Emmelyn joined him on the bench and leaned her head against the wall behind her.

“Was it actually him?” Vaneth asked softly after a quiet moment.

Emmelyn took a deep breath and closed her eyes, suddenly fatigued. “It doesn’t look good, Van. Not only did he run, but he had a bag of garaleaves in his room. And Bardra thinks his unknown injury likely came from him, too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Slyn never used his... gifts, at least, not if he could help it.” Emmelyn opened her eyes to see Vaneth rubbing his scarred fingertips, an accident from their childhood.

“There /has/ to be a reason,” he insisted. “A very good reason.”

Emmelyn chewed on her lip and was silent.

The bench creaked when Vaneth stood up. “Maybe Lord Edrill was a conspirator. He planned to take over the kingdom by killing all the others in line, and Slyn was protecting us. No, no, then he wouldn’t have run... unless the warriors were under Edrill’s control! But his estate isn’t /that/ large. He wouldn’t have enough money to bribe them all like that. And anyway, he’s so far back in line that he’d have to kill almost half the court before he’d be rightfully crowned king. And civil war would - ”

“Van,” interrupted Emmelyn. Her brother stopped mid-sentence. He deflated and tried to smile.

“I’m jumping at shadows, aren’t I.” It wasn’t a question. Emmelyn knew the feeling in Vaneth’s eyes - it was the same thing she felt every time she tried to think about what had just happened. Of course, it had only been a few hours. Surely something new would come up... surely. She shivered in the cool air.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Vaneth continued, voicing her thoughts. “There might be an angle we haven’t considered yet, some new piece of evidence. We don’t know everything.” He waited expectantly for Emmelyn to say something. To agree with him? She didn’t know. When she just looked at him, his lips tightened and he sat back down.

“Van,” Emmelyn said gently, putting her hand on his back. “We need to consider... What I mean to say is, what about... Maybe he...” She couldn’t spit the words out. It was hard to think about, and even harder to say. She swallowed and tried again. “What if -“

“The stories are true?” Vaneth finished. He shook his head. “I /can’t/ believe that, Em. You were gone, but he holed himself up in his room and refused to come out for an entire /week/ because he accidentally made me bleed.” He lifted his sleeve to show Emmelyn a tiny white scar on his forearm. She had never noticed it before. “It wasn’t even that bad. He was just so scared of hurting somebody again. Em, Slyn had to have had a very good reason.”

Silently, Emmelyn doubted. Slyn probably had a reason, but she didn’t know if it was the sort that would hold up if inspected. However, she nodded for Vaneth’s sake. He was a loyal brother. Did that make her a bad older sister, not sticking to Slyn’s side like Vaneth was? She just couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe there really was something wrong with Slyn, something none of them could have noticed until Lord Edrill was poisoned.

But for now ... Emmelyn stood up slowly, feeling quite tired. “We need to find him,” she said. “But we can’t do anything about it right now.”

“You’re right.” Vaneth followed her to his feet, then held the curtain for her as they walked out of the small training room into the slightly warmer hallway. The lights clicked off behind them, sensing their exit.