“Spirits of the mercies of the storm, bind these timbers.Spirits of the mercies of the storm,
“Spirits of the mercies of the storm, bind these timbers.Spirits of the mercies of the storm, bind these hatches.Spirits of the mercies of the storm, bind these walls.Spirits of the mercies of the storm, bind these rivets.Sterobys of the storm, pass the heads of all my sisters.Sterobys of the storm, pass the houses of my sisters.Sterobys of the storm, pass the sails of my sisters at sea.Do what must be done and do no more.”The steady words of the old chant, written back when the harvesters were held back from the pull of the great blue wall by stabilizer rockets fired in perfect time, keep time now with the creaking of the house’s frame. The lamp continues to strobe. For a moment, without discussing it, all of them listen, as if waiting for the planet to give them a grudging reassurance.*picks banjo* let me tell a story, I can tell it all~Nearly a decade before she went full enemy of the state, Bash (future navigator of the Revelator) had a rebellious phase that lasted for like two days. Because this was the old side of the inner Shali rim in the twelve-teens of the Hyperian dynasty, two days was long enough to get in and out of the smuggling business. I had a lot of fun writing this unplanned two-parter. It’s both eerie and funny, which I feel like is a winning combo for October. Click through the image or the link above–and sign up to be at least a $3 patron if you haven’t yet–to read this and many other short stories set in my labor of love of an original universe.Hope you enjoy! If you can’t support the patreon but still want to help me pay the bills and make more stuff (or if you’re just really digging this one and want to tell people) I always appreciate a reblog :) -- source link
#writing#original fiction#original sff#sweet chariot