Tag Archives: Ghosts

Not the homecoming we were hoping for.

The carriage moved slowly down the street, pulled by two horses made of pulsing green light. The driver held one arm out, a similar green light shining through his white embroidered coat. It passed by another carriage, coming against it on the other side of the road. This one not drawn by horses but floating through the air on a foggy haze. The drivers tipped their hats at each other in courtesy.


Flukia waved at the floating carriage as well, it wasn’t often that she saw an air mage like herself. She wondered if it was transporting a royal envoy from the Northern states, that would seem to be the most likely scenario. The curtains on the carriage were closed but she could sense the breath of at least one person inside, probably a man, he gave a deep sigh of relief.


She continued to look out the window once it had passed. The carriage was taking her back into Sothwood, the Capital city of the Western states. The only road entrance to Sothwood was beside both a cliff and lake. She could see the lake from this side, it was a deep red from the algae blooming on the surface. The lake broke out to sea at its south-most point, right there was where Sothwood had been built.


The story was that Knarrian the Avatar of the Ocean was trapped here, he turned himself into a gigantic whale and forced his way out of the lake. On the other side of the lake was Knarria, a smaller town that housed the Western states military academy. Flukia had just come from there she could just make out the shape of the watchtower she had occasionally been posted at.


“We have arrived young lady.” The driver called out as the carriage slowed and came to a halt. Flukia waved her hand at the door behind her a white light flashing on her hand, it popped open a little too fast and made a thud as it hit the carriage.

“Sorry! Can you get my luggage?”

“Of course.” He replied trying to hold back an indignant tone.


Flukia climbed out of the carriage, she was wearing her under-armor overalls with a light blue dress over top, the same colour as her hair that was held back loosely in a bun. The overalls were made from white dragon fur, they could stop a sharp blade that was being dragged across them even a blunt one with a stab. Her dress, she had fashioned herself from the same material, but used one of her air charms to make it appear the blue colour. It was her favourite.


The building they had arrived at was an old church of Knarrian, it had been damaged during the last war but had since been refurbished and turned into a kind of nursing home. It was a place for those who by all other means would be dead if not for their own magic keeping them on this plane. It had a great view of the lake.


She caught a glimpse of the horses as they faded into a green mist. Back to the else-plane, not to be confused with the place people go when their magic is gone. Those trained in the arcane can easily come and go from the else-plane, it would have been how this driver made those horses his own, if they had not been passed down in the family.

Flukia had been there, just like all the other recruits, a trip to the else-plane to find an animal companion. Those who have never been liken it to going to the stables with a bag of gold but it is not that simple. There are a myriad of eldritch beasts present there, most of them hostile, many of them deadly. Also the spirit animals that are peaceful are not always easy to befriend, which you would have to before you could summon them.


“Are you sure this is where you wanted to go?” The driver’s arm was now covered in white stone as he struggled to carry Flukia’s trunk. It was holding all of her worldly possessions.

“Yes, I’m meeting a friend here. I have your payment sir.” She pulled a couple of silver coins from her pocket and held them out to him.

“I can carry this inside if you like.”
“I’ll manage, thank you.”


He put down the trunk and accepted the coins. Waving his arm the stones disappeared and the green light shone through once more, the horses reformed with the sound of snapping a branch.


Flukia turned around and looked up at the nursing home. It had some marvelous brickwork, stones that had been placed to look like waves crashing onto the entrance way. Flukia wasn’t looking at the bricks however she didn’t have an eye for that.


The patchwork that had been done interested her though, magical fire was the same as any other but in the war there were much more powerful uses of all forms of magic. Around the new brick were large sections of melted stone and a lingering feeling, the twang of the arcane. No wonder they kept the elderly here, it would supplement their own magic at least a little bit, take the edge off. Flukia pointed her arm over towards her trunk.


Invisible patterns on her arm became clear now as white light shone from them. Her trunk wobbled like a defiant toddler then gave into her power, rising from the ground. A dark cloud formed below it, blossoming around it into a cushion. It floated over to her as she put her arm down, the tattoos on her arm still white but not as bright.


She entered the old church calmly, using her buoyant trunk to push open one of the large doors.


“Flukia?” There was a young woman sitting behind a desk just inside the door. She was scratching at her arm, consciously avoiding where she had recently got a new tattoo. It was a dark blue and seemed to move as she did. Water mages were more common in Sothwood, it being the original proficiency for the Western states, but it was also more expected in a caring facility as they have innately stronger healing magic. “Abhain has been waiting for you. He’s up on the second floor.”

“Thank you.” Flukia nodded. “Do you mind if I leave my trunk here?”




“Kia! You made it.” There was both joy and relief in Abhain’s voice. “How was the trip?”

“Good to see you too Abby.” Flukia have a cheeky grin. “No stick ups, so as pleasant as it could be.”
“Mmm, I heard there were some bandits on the roads, but I knew you could handle them.”

“Is that why you were stressing out the lady at the desk?”

“Aquiquese is pretty used to my stressing.”


“No patients up here then?” Flukia looked around, the second floor at this end of the building was a long chamber overtop of the main entrance hall. There was a wooden table lined with chairs in the center and right at the back was a circle of more comfortable cushioned chairs.

“Not patients Kia, they aren’t sick.”

“They’re just not well.”


Abhain just smiled at her, he thought about continuing to correct her but knew it was in vain.


“No, the patients aren’t allowed up here.”
“So why a nursing home Abby? As far as I knew you were one of the top healers.”
“A lot has changed since you enlisted.”

“No it hasn’t, your mother wrote me too you know.”


“I wanted to help people Kia.”
“And you would have, people who had a chance.”


He turned away and walked up to the window looking out to the lake. He put his head against it with a thunk.


“And why did you enlist then huh? Why did you even think that they wanted a air mage in the Western Corp?”
“You know what I’m good at.”

“Fighting, I know, but you didn’t have to do it for them. You could have done it here. Why did you want to get away from me?”

“Abby, you know that’s not the reason.”


“What was I supposed to think? You didn’t tell anyone until you’d already done it.”
“I’m sorry Abby, I was selfish back then.”

“It’s only be three years.”
“That’s a lot of growing, even more so when everyday is an intense training program.”

“So why you leave then? That sounds like your dream.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it.”


They stood quietly. Flukia walked up to the window beside him and looked out at the water.


“So was the nursing home ‘cause of me or…?”

“I don’t know. I think it was probably just me lashing out at the world.”

“Weird way to do it, but that’s you in general, right?” Flukia teased.


Abhain laughed, put his fist on her shoulder gave her a hardy push. That used to be enough to shift her balance but this time she stayed stiff. She grinned back at him.


“I couldn’t have got this view working at a hospital or apothecary.”

“Very true…” The high pitch whistling of an alarm cut her off, she spun away from the window.


Flukia flicked her hand down beside her lightly tapping her leg. There was a swirl of air around her flapping her dress. Suddenly she was holding a short sword. It’s blade glinted silver in the light, the hilt was wrapped in white fabric.


“That’s not an attack alarm Kia. Someone has reached critical magic le…” Several similar alarms started drowning him out. “What in the four realms is that?”


Flukia turned back to the window. The lake had gone dark, but it wasn’t the algae it was the sky that had turned black.


An energy storm had started to form darkening the area. The telltale red and blue arching of magic gave it away.


“A portal to the else-plane.”

“In the sky?”


The storm spread out in a ring across the sky with a boom of thunder leaving behind an unfamiliar starry sky. Once it reached the horizon the ground shook violently knocking them both off their feet.


Flukia was suddenly holding a shield over top of the protecting them from debris.


The shaking slowed to stop but the sound of crumbling buildings continued. There were a few muffled shouts then nothing, complete silence.


They both jumped up, Flukia glanced out the window and froze in place.


The water was being displaced, drained out to sea, revealing the bottom of the lake. The sand had started to move, huge black tendrils underneath it wiggling their way out.


Each tentacle moved independently but had the common goal of burrowing to the surface.


“A demon under the lake?” Abhain asked, Flukia hadn’t noticed that he was staring along with her.

“No not a demon, an else-plane guardian.”

“Did the portal bring it here?”

“No… We were brought to it.”
“B…but, how is that possible?”

“Your patients! You need to go sa…” There was another quake but they both stayed on their feet.


The wet sand had finally cleared away and the guardian was now exposed. The tentacles weren’t just black but they seemed to drain the light around them diffusing the very sight of them. Its central mass was much the same but covered in large pure white spots, eyes.


A piercing screech dulled their hearing even though they tried to block it out with their hands. Flukia knew what came next but trying to warn Abhain would have been in vain. She didn’t know if there was anything he could have done anyway.


The guardian sucked in air and puffed itself up to about twice the size. The eyes rolled around until the pupils were visible, huge and black with the thin outline of white.


Abhain fell to the floor, he wasn’t braced for his magic to get drained away.


Flukia’s sword and shield turned to smoke.Her vision grew dim as she tried to fight it, even the worst magic fatigue would never have felt this bad. Her fingers and toes felt like they were covered in molten iron. Every bone in her body started to ache and she felt stabbings all over her back. She put her hands onto the windowsill ignoring the broken glass, trying to hold herself up.


The draining stopped but the pain remained. With another quake the guardian lifted itself up and pushed off the ground floating off into the sky, still bloated but now with magic instead of air.


She would survive with this remaining amount of magic, so Abhain probably will too. She fell back onto the ground with a sigh of relief knocking herself out.


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Jamee The Unwitting Necromancer

The dirt was liquid under her feet, each step was a battle. The mud fumed out a pungent fog of tree sap and the decomposition of flesh. She had a long strip of fabric wrapped around her head, keeping her mud-caked hair and the disgusting smell out of her mouth or nose. The fabric was well made, a silk and cotton blend dyed purple, the same as her dress.


Another step forward revealed the torn section of her gown, it now only came up to her knees. The remaining pieces of her outfit were soaked in blood. She reached out and grabbed a low hanging branch of the nearest swamp tree. Pulling with all her might she managed to free herself from the ground and swing her legs up as well.


She lay there on the branch for a while, regaining her strength. She tried to figure out where she was, there weren’t many swamps she could remember. The smell pretty much gave it away however. This was the Grutal Marsh. About twenty years ago this was a battleground, there’s only a thin layer of mud between her and hundreds of dead men, women, horses.


“How did I get here?” She asked herself in a whisper, her voice raspy. She coughed, winced in pain and rubbed at her throat. There was a scab there, from the back of her chin to her collar bone. The crusty piece of skin had already started to come away from her neck.


There was a sunken area of skin where the scab had been, where it had struggled to grow over the area. ‘How did I survive a cut like this?’ She thought, being sure not to speak. ‘Did I survive?’


She knew the stories about the Marsh, about the battle that was fought here. A fight against the dead. Not that she really believed it. Necromancy was such an abhorrent magic, there was no-one who could really consider using it. This couldn’t be the case anyway, the battle was won, the dark magic’s vanquished.


But maybe, the magic lingered. It has a habit of doing that, the unexpected.


Using what strength she had regained she reached out her arm and focused her energy. The dirt on her arms shook right off as her skin started to glow purple. Her hidden runic tattoos revealed by their use. A pale lilac mist formed around her. There were no other magics at work here.


She didn’t notice that the mist she formed floated down to the ground. It swirled around underneath her, overcoming the swamp’s natural fog.


The mud began to move.


Now with enough physical strength she decided to move, jumping down. The mud didn’t squelch, ‘looks like I got out of the flooded area’ she decided.


Up ahead she could see a clearing. Maybe things were looking up for her after all.

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Hop skip and a jump

Madeline’s mother had always said ‘You can’t tie the rainbow to the Galgadorf if you don’t have Pixie blood.’

Madeline could remember bouncing her head up and down in agreement as a child, as though she had just heard a proverb of ancient wisdom. She wanted to say that it was before her mother was in an institution, that she realized that she had been insane the whole time. But she knew that she had continued to believe it until her mother was stabbed and killed by another inmate.

Her mother had not been a Marbh, not even just a regular Pixie.

At least that’s how it seemed for about sixteen years.

The penny dropped and her world was shattered about six months ago. When her garden was overrun by refuge Pixies. Luckily they could change their size down to about that of a medium rat but the fact that they had brought their own homes along did not help with the issue of space.

It came as much as a surprise to the Pixies that Madeline could see them as they had not found anyone outside of Scotland that could. When asked why they were not in Scotland they had made the same face and proceeded to rant about how they had a right to their homeland and how the bloody fay had tricked their ancestors out of the deal between magic and man.

For the first few weeks she had believed she had lost it just like her mother. She went to several different doctors and got enough brain scans to give her the cancer she slightly hoped she had. But it turned up nothing. Her psychiatrist had got her to take extended leave after she described the Visual and auditory hallucinations she was having.

She was pretty sure she wasn’t getting her job back when she finally made it back. Not in the least due to the fact that her house being broken into and her blood being strewn around the place. But also because she had gone to the Tír nAill for about a seven days which in real time accounts for about fourteen months. She hadn’t checked the date in the real world yet but she assumed she still wouldn’t be as old as she felt.

The Pixies had taken her on a wild ride. It definitely wasn’t their fault that the fairies bribed the MSA into eliminating the last remaining Pixies at her house. And they could have left her somewhere but she couldn’t help herself from tagging along after they had literally teleported her to the United Kingdom.

Since then she’d had her own fair share of fights. They met up with a band of Clurichaun refugees on the way and Madeline had used her unusual knowledge of alcohol brewery to show them how to make their own wine. They granted her their only weapon, a sword they had once stolen from a king.

Madeline had used the sword to defeat the Far darrig and best Una’s best soldiers in combat much to her own surprise.

But now she felt her adventures where near the end. Most of her Pixie friends were captured by the Fairy Queen, as she made sure that the Rainbow would never be sealed. She would have complete access to the gold and would eventually be able to buy the human world out from under them.

Madeline made her way to the Galgadorf with five remaining Pixies, each of them dead. You can’t tie the rainbow to the Galgadorf if you don’t have Pixie blood.

Madeline grabbed the red and violet ends of the rainbow. Her mother was right about everything.

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Didn’t finish a chapter in time #4

Hello hello, its that time again and I completely forgot about Leesandra this week. Instead I have been doing a lot of touch ups for Whiskey and Maeve. By the way, I wasn’t actually aware that Maeve was a real name. For those that don’t know already, Maeve as a name has a meaning too, ‘She who intoxicates’. I had honestly not known this when I thought up Whiskey as a character or gave her a name… so a bit of a happy accident there.

Gary thought himself a simple man, he didn’t want much, a cold beer at the end of a hard working day. To be sure in the safety of all he cared about, to one day find out what happened to Reuben. He used to be a zealot, he was a sworn weapon of Michael, smiting demons and leaving only light in his wake.

He looked down, there was at least four levels between him and the ground now. The climb had been pretty easy up until now, plenty of hand holds and deep slots that his feet could sit in. The design of this building made it seem like the architect gave up at this point and they hired someone else.

There was a fire escape nearby but the handholds didn’t reach it.

He thought about jumping over to it, it was close enough that he could make it and the metal was sturdy enough to take his weight. Doing so played out in his mind, it would make a lot of noise and he would probably be covered in demons before he could say ‘Fire department?’

Resigning that idea he slowly moved down until he found a line of hand holds that would get him close to the fire escape. They would mean he crossed a window but hopefully the curtains were closed.

This wasn’t his first encounter with Mammon’s demons. Around the time when Mammon first took control of this crime family there was a series of baby thefts in the area. The FBI was already investigating Manny but they never would have put two and two together.

Maeve and Gary did though, Maeve was also relatively new but she had studied everything she could get her hands on at the Refuge. They both figured that Mammon was in town and had a penchant for eating infants, most don’t make that association as it seems more like something the Arch-Demon of Gluttony would do rather than Greed.

Gary quickly popped his head down to see in the window, the curtains weren’t closed. There was no-one inside, a vacant hotel room. He moved across so that he was in front of it and tried to lift it open. It didn’t budge. Carefully he slid a small knife out from a sheath tied around his torso. He pushed it under the window and dragged it across. Giving the window another try, it opened with the familiar sound of wood against wood.

The room wasn’t much but probably came with all of Manny’s offered benefits. He may only want to get your soul into the Circle of Greed but he sure has a way of exercising all possible sins. Gary slid the window closed but didn’t lock it just in case.

Once again he donned his glasses and looked around, there was red everywhere. ‘How could I possibly find her?’ Just as he thought that he caught something in the corner of his eye. A demon that looked like it was in distress, its red visage vibrating wildly. ‘Recently possessed is a good chance’.

He pulled his gun off his belt and moved towards the door. There were no demons in the hallway but definitely some on this level. He slowly opened the door to see if there were any unpossessed, there was no-one. Making sure not to slap his feet he hurried down the hall.

Stopping at the stair well he looked around again, no demons on the move or out of place, only the newest addition whipping from side to side.

Gary’s heart stopped. He had finally remembered to look down and could only see red. ‘Mammon must have been out and just come back.’ Thinking quickly he ran up the stairs, if any other demon had caught him he would have been fine to just exorcise it, Mammon was far too powerful for him to do anything about.

He ran down the hall to the room with the volatile demon, not caring about being stealthy any longer. Flicking his head around to see if he was in any immediate danger. Several demons were on the move now, but none were close.

Gary slammed his hand repetitively on the door. Until the door opened.
“What!” The girl, Cameron, who opened it definitely had the face he was looking for, but the voice was that of something fresh from hell.
“Get back in there.” Gary put his gun against her head.
“You think something like that would hurt me human?”
“You bet your ass it will.” He kicked the door open enough to clamber inside.

“I am a shade of Mammon, how could you dare?” Gary smashed her in the head with the butt of his gun. She keeled over in pain. “Argh.”
He pushed the door shut with his foot and continued to point the gun at her. “Where did you come by such a weapon mortal?”
“Michael himself. And his name you shall leave this plain.”
“Ha, ha, ha. I am not under the beck and call of some pathetic frilly angel.”

Gary reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a silver flask. He opened it and poured the contents over the girl. It seemed to be just water but it still made her scream in pain.

“In the name of Michael the sword of God himself you will leave this body. Or I will burn you inside of it.”
“Just you try!”
“They always push me.” He muttered as he reached down with his free hand and grabbed Cameron’s arm. Closing his eyes and facing towards the sky. “Michael, Gabriel and Uriel.  I am but a humble servant I call you now acting in your will…”

“Provide me with strength, provide me with your blessing and grant me the power to vanquish thyne enemies!”
“You cannot possibly have their ears!”
“Michael, Gabriel and Uriel hear my prayers. Allow me to be the sword with which you shall shatter the night!”

Cameron’s body started to writhe unable to get free from Gary’s grasp. “Michael! Gabriel! And Ur…” The girl started to scream, a scream so shrill it surely would have awoken the dead. Her face lit up with a holy white light. Gary continued to look away, to be sure not to accidentally glean the form of whoever was coming to his aid.

The girl went limp in his hand. Gary looked back at her making sure the demon was gone. There was no red showing through the glasses.
“Thank you.” He called out still unsure who had helped.

“No, thank you.” Gary recognized that voice.

Manny was now standing in the door way.

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Didn’t finish a chapter in time #3

Well hello there boys and girls. It is 7 o’clock New Zealand Standard Time and I have not written a single word this week. Basically it’s all because my job has put me through a nice little training course that lasted the whole week and I have been finishing around this time everyday.

Of course this has also left me extremely exhausted mentally so I don’t really have the power to write a significant blog post. So I will leave you with a small excerpt from another story that i put on the back burner a long time ago. I hope you enjoy.


She walked through the Gruetal Marsh, the final resting place of the soldiers who died in the Necromatic Silencing. Her aura filled the air, darkening it, filling it with a dark pastel-blue fog. Moving slowly, her bare feet squelched in the mud, her dress, once a stunning purple ball dress with all the trimmings. Now a muddy wreck, it used to have one sleeve on the left side, the right arm and shoulder exposed, currently it had no sleeves, both arms exposed to the cold swamp air. The silk and cotton fabric used to flow all the way down to her ankles, almost sweeping the floor as she danced in the ballroom. She ripped off the bottom up to the knees as she started to enter the mud and water. That piece of fabric now flying on the wind soaked in her own neck blood. She made very cautious steps over the logs and large furry corpses. As she moved into a small clearing she remembered flashes of the previous night.

The yellow light shimmering on the the silk gowns, girls twirling to the music. Rare wines and cheeses floating along on the suspended serving dishes. Men in fine military uniform dancing alongside the girls. She caught a man staring at her from across the room. His face handsome and smooth yet rugged from the years of service. His long dark hair, swept to the side like the rest of the gentlemen there, had some grey gently pushed through. He clearly had many years on her but at the time she did not mind. Now when she imagines his face she is instantly repulsed and her hands shake with terror. “What’s that all about?” her voice was muffled and weak from the dehydration and healing neck wound. She thought her guesses were pretty close based on her current predicament. Her next step was heavier than it was supposed to be making her foot sink into the ground, the mud cuddled her entire shin. She attempted to pull it out but the mud had already tightened around her ankle. Looking down at it with disdain her first thought was to cut it off, she decided against it when she realized that dealing with the wound appropriately would leave her naked. She spotted  a log within reach and went to grab it.

Ever since she could remember she had wanted to go to a fine ball. Being Sir Eldersteern’s ward had prepared her to be a fine lady, pampered by maids everyday. Kept away from kids her own age, kept away from almost everyone in fact had conditioned her to be very strong by herself and easily impressed by the feats of others. Although she remembered a day when she had finally met some new people. The maidservant supposed to be watching her had fallen asleep so without supervision she sneaked out the front gates of the mansion. Her small boots crunching along the stone path. Soon she came across some other children around her age, they seemed to like playing with her at first, running around chasing each other. Until a boy, bigger and more confident than the rest seeming to be the leader, asked her where she lived and who her parents were. After she told them their once cheerful faces became solemn and cold their cheers turned to shouts and their playful chasing turned to stone throwing. “Necrophile! You won’t take our bodies!”

She sat on the log. ‘why did i just remember that?’ she wriggled her foot from side to side attempting to loosen the mud around it. She knew it might take a while, but she didn’t exactly have anywhere to be.

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Whiskey and Maeve – an update

Hello there,  this week we’re going to take a break from Leesandra and Kyber-kind and talk about Whiskey’s story. Just before Leesandra gets herself into trouble.

Now the first thing I want to talk about is the final state that Whiskey’s story is going to be in. Once I have actually gotten around to doing all the touch ups I want to do, and filled it out with all the fluff i want it to have. Only then will we look at a full publication.

Likely what will happen is I will just put links to downloads for it in an e-book format. So you can read it on your kindle or tablet or holo-screen or what ever. But at the same time we will be looking at doing an audio version because I have a friend who thinks I’m good at this or something.

In regards to that, I need some cover art for this. I had commissioned a very beautiful lady to get this done for me but alas the fates did not smile upon such an event. Luckily I have at least one other person who may be able to help on that front, but if anyone here is an artist I would love to see your ideas on how my cover should look. Bearing in mind that if I like it and want to use it, I will pay you for it despite this being a free publication because I have that fantasy of being a published writer.

So, how far have I gotten? How close is it too being done? How can we make it happen faster? What are plans for the future?

I have managed to collate it all into one file…

And have started to flesh more of the substance to the novel itself, characters and settings and the like. How close am I? Months still, at least. I wanted to take a good break from all writing while I did the touch ups but then I realized that unless I also didn’t go to work it would have been ages without any word from me at all.

Make faster? How? Well, continue to read everything I put out, maybe even go back and read the old stuff to. Tell me what you think even if you think its critical. Knowing that you’re interested will definitely spur me on.

The future is not set in stone. But my plans for it are probably cast in a form of clay. I would like to end up with the time to work on my writing more readily but I would also like to have the means to eat and live. In regards to this story in particular the plan is that once I complete the first part I will be doing draft chapters of the next story as before. If that collides with the Kyber story then so be it, I will probably do an on/off schedule like I did before.

As I said, let me know what you think about this, how it makes you feel. Write me a story sometime, give and take haha.


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Didn’t finish a chapter in time #2

Hey hey hey, it’s that time again. Looks like it’s another week without I’m afraid.

Honestly I’m a bit surprised that I’ve been able to get them out for most of this month. It’s been a bit hectic around here. Late last month, basically earlier this month, it was confirmed that I needed to move out of my current apartment. I didn’t exactly have anywhere lined up and actually only found a place last weekend.

Yeah, my month of free time was encapsulated by searching for a house to rent.

With a full time job and living in the Capital city of New Zealand you would kind of expect that it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone to take my money in exchange for a living arrangement. Unfortunately January – early February is also when all the new students start looking for accommodation. The market was a bit saturated with demand for those who took economics.

Luckily that’s all okay now, signed on for a house, should even have fiber installed so I can upload to YouTube correctly.

So you may wonder why I didn’t manage to finish up a chapter this week, now that the stressful part is over. Well if we take a look at it in a general sense then we can say that its because my routine has been a bit broken by all that. And while that is a factor there are other forces at work.

My writing has always been at the mercy of my imagination, so long as I can pull my mind into the world I’m writing about I can usually trudge through the story even if sometimes begrudgingly.

This means that if I can focus enough I can just go and go until I need to eat, drink or get back to my actual job. Considering that, let me also add that under stress I gain immense focus, I think you’ll understand how this all works.

Now that I’m not stressed, in fact I’m mostly elated (I got a new job! Yeah!), I’m having a bit of a hard time with the whole focus thing. This isn’t all bad though, well of course it isn’t, being not stressed is a good thing. At least it means that we should return to our regularly scheduled program… maybe not next week as that’s when I move house but at least the week after.

As before, let me know if you like this kind of thing, or if you have any questions at all really.


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Whiskey and Maeve – A Christmas Special

Sorry it’s late,  I wanted to make sure this one was nice and polished.
It was going to be released on Christmas or Christmas Eve, so I guess its also kind of early?


Maeve picked up Whiskey’s desk with one hand and put it down on the other side of the room.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Whiskey asked trying to appear unsurprised by the feat of strength.

“Making room.”

“Making room for what?”

“The tree.”


“The tree?”

“The Christmas tree.”


Whiskey stepped out of the kitchen and felt a wave of queasiness, almost dropping her mug of eggnog. Maeve was suddenly beside her holding her steady.  “You okay?”


“Yeah I’m fine, drink is just a little stronger than I expected, I guess.” She looked down at herself, she was wearing a pair of Santa slippers with matching red knitted pants and sweater. Maeve was wearing a matching outfit, this seemed to both comfort and alarm her.

“Don’t get too drunk before everyone gets here.” Maeve let her go and poked out her tongue.

“I won’t…” The nausea had subsided but something else seemed off.


The white ball of her Santa hat had started to tickle her face so she brushed it away. That didn’t seem to be the cause of her unease.


“Guide, if you would do the honors.” Maeve picked up the rugged old book and held it open towards the now empty part of the room.

“It would be my pleasure.” Several of Guide’s pages flipped over in quick succession. “Here it is.”

“I pull from eden, pine tree!” Maeve called out. Guide lit up so bright that Whiskey had to cover her eyes.

She put down her hand and blinked a few times. There was now a small tree in her apartment, seemingly grown out of the floor.


“Uh!” Whiskey exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, it won’t leave a single trace. And neither will this.” Maeve pulled a glass tube from her jeans and pushed it up against the wall. It left behind a blue shine, like a luminescent stain on the wall.

“Ah!” She exclaimed again.

“Shush.” Maeve had quickly drawn up a runic circle. The blue light seemed to slip away as a dark patch formed in the wall. The wall grew darker and darker until it was black and seemed to suck away the light around it.


Something purple started to poke out from the black. It was a thick tendril, like the root of some alien tree. Once it had slithered out a metre or two it twisted back on itself.


Whiskey stood in the middle of the room, mesmerised yet freaking out about almost everything around her.


The tendril reached back into the void that it had came from and started to pull out something. Tinsel, it was pulling out red tinsel. Slowly but surely it wrapped the piece around the tree and then folded back on itself to get more decorations.


Eventually the whole tree was covered with trinkets, glitter and candy canes.


“What’s this?” Whiskey asked, but she wasn’t even sure what she wanted to know.  There was a knock on her apartment door.


“They’re here.” Maeve was already at the door pulling it open. “Merry Yuletide.” Maeve greeted Isaac and David standing in the door. They were both dressed in their everyday black coats, but David had a Santa hat on.

“Felix Dies Natalis Solis Invicti.” David replied. Isaac grumbled, Whiskey chuckled to herself as she imagined him saying ‘Bah humbug’.


Whiskey’s gaze stuck on David, an image flickered in her mind. It was a painful image, not physically painful but emotionally painful. She started to sway a little as her vision blurred around the edges. Maeve was holding her again, she moved Whiskey to her desk chair and sat her down in it.


“I really don’t think you’re okay.”

“No really, it’s probably just this drink.” Whiskey deflected

“What’s wrong with her?” Isaac asked.

“She’s been acting dizzy.”


“Have you been near any dimensional portals lately?” David asked. Something in Whiskey’s subconscious forced her not to look at him.

“I have my disciple tentacle in the wall, but I set it up after she almost fell over the first time.”

“I feel fine guys, people get light headed sometimes. This drink probably isn’t helping.” Whiskey handed Isaac the mug. He sniffed it and gave it a swig.

“Woah, alright, that’s mostly alcohol. Looks like you already know how this celebration works.” Isaac stared at the drink with wide eyes. Maeve and David laughed.


Whiskey tried to look at David in her peripheral vision. Slowly focusing on the bottom of his coat moving up. Each inch made her stomach flip over. She didn’t want to look at his face but she didn’t know why. Another inch, another butterfly in her gut. Another inch coming into focus. Blood.


“Present’s then?” Whiskey lost concentration as Maeve pushed a bright green box in front of her.

“Heck yes!” Whiskey answered.


‘How am I suddenly so perky, what the hell is going on?’ She wondered in the back of her mind.


“Oh presents for us too?” David asked as Maeve shoved boxes into his and Isaac’s hands.

“This is awesome, what is it?” Whiskey had already pulled apart her present and was holding its contents up to show it off.

“That is a demon shiv.” Isaac answered her. “It’s only really useful on spiritual entities. It wouldn’t hurt anything corporeal.”

“Thank you Maeve. I imagine that I’ll probably end up using it one day.”


‘…probably end up using it one day, god I am embarrassing… What am I thinking? Why are we not freaking out right now?’


“Alright my turn.” David grabbed part of the bow on the top and pulled. It started to unravel.


Time seemed to slow. Whiskey screamed in her own mind.


‘Look at him! Look at his face! Why can’t I look at him?’


Her head snapped into place. Her eyes resting on him. Everything froze in place. She remembered. Not even two months ago. His head was removed. David is dead. He can’t be here. Why are we having Christmas?


“You’re not real!” Whiskey screamed at the top of her lungs. Time resumed.

“Huh?” Maeve, David and Isaac all looked at her at once.


Whiskey stood up, grabbed the shiv tightly in her hand and bolted out the door and down the stairs. She bursted through the exit onto the street. At least it seemed like the street at first. It was dark, but darker than it should have been, even for late at night. Whiskey looked up, there weren’t any streetlights nor buildings besides her apartment building.


“You just had to look the gift lion in the mouth didn’t you?” She heard a voice that came from all around her.

“Who are you?” She held out the dagger and spun around trying to see where it was coming from.

“Well.” A man appeared in front of her, like he had coalesced out of the air itself. He was barely covered by a white piece of cloth, like an ancient greek noble “I am the ghost of all possible Christmas’s.”

“That’s dumb, you’re dumb. Take me back to where you took me from.”


“Why is it dumb?” He started to pace along the pavement. Whiskey now noticed that it only reached a few metres out from where they stood.

“Because Christmas was only recently thought up, if there was a pantheon of Christmas ghosts then why weren’t you in the stories with all the other myths?”

“Well I was around before it was called Christmas.”

“Ah. Why am I having this conversation with you? Take me back.” Whiskey side stepped a few times to keep up with him.


“Do you really want to go back? Are you sure you don’t want to stay here with all your friends.”

“This isn’t real, they aren’t real.”

“Of course it’s real, this is a real Christmas that could have been.”

“You’re telling me that you can control the very fabric of time and make it so that David didn’t die?”

“Yes.” He stopped and turned to her.

“Then why didn’t Isaac conjure you to bring him back? Why are you talking to me?”


“Because it needs to be someone who would believe. Isaac doesn’t believe in hope or in the good of the universe, he is black at heart. Where as you are so full of wishes and dreams, unabashed by the horror you have faced.”

“So the standard Christmas hullabaloo. Why isn’t this world complete then?”

“Seriously, so many questions.”


“Because it’s feeding off your soul. This world would only come to pass if you gave up your life.” Maeve appeared outside the apartment building.

“How did you get here? I didn’t pull you through.” The ghost started to walk back towards her.

“I’m a soulless, idiot.”

“Huh, so you are. No matter, you can stay if you like. Don’t listen to her though Whiskey.” He turned his back on Maeve and headed back to Whiskey. “It’s really not like that all. Why offer you the deal if you’re not there to enjoy it?” Maeve stared at Whiskey fiercely until she noticed her gaze.

“Then what are you asking for in return?” Whiskey asked. Maeve started to make gestures with her hands. Like she was punching low.

“Just your cooperation, you do this for me, I’ll ask favours of you. Standard Wizard deal type stuff.”

“I see.”


Maeve started to act like she was stabbing herself in the gut. Whiskey clicked.

“Oh Maeve.” He shook his head and started to turn back to face her. “That little dagger won’t work on me, I made this world.” Whiskey made two large bounds and jabbed the Demon shiv directly into where the ghost’s kidney ought to have been. “Ugh! How?”

“That wasn’t the shiv you had made for me to put in the present.” Maeve popped up behind him as well. She ripped out the blade and jammed it into his other side. “This is the one I always carry.”


He faded away, as did the rest of the street.


They were back in Whiskey’s apartment and back in their normal attire.

“How did you figure it out?” Whiskey asked.

“I was never really under the spell. Soulless aren’t affected by dimension merging. I’m just glad you figured it out.”

“Yeah, I guess that he could have just ejected you whenever. What was he?”

“Angel I think, trying to trick you into selling your life for an alternate timeline. Getting around Death’s control over his soul.”


“But why my life? And why would an Angel want David to be alive so badly?”

“Who knows, but whatever the reason, the Angel won’t be dead. Can’t actually kill Angels. They’ll be back at some point. You should probably keep a hold of that Shiv.”

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Filed under Cain's Children in the New Age - Whiskey