This story was written as a prompt for my university writing class. There was a common theme of all of the stories and what feedback we received: no names, no senses, and every one dies. So, I decided to write a short story that was kind of a play on our class. It was funny for me while writing it and became an inside joke with some of my other classmates. I hope you all enjoy a story created in light mockery of my writing class. Enjoy and let me know in the comments what you think!
– Turan
Hunching over on my hands and knees, I clench my stomach with a sharp hiss. Several blurry blotches of blood sprinkle the gravel below my face. It’s hard to focus with the stinging pangs from where the knife connected. Shakily, I pull my hand away to look through my tear-swollen eyes. Drenched fingers glinting red is enough to tell me it’s terrible. How did it come to this?
Lifting my head weakly, I look at the man responsible with pleading eyes. I don’t want to fight him; I never wanted to fight in the first place. Had I known a week ago that this was our fate when I first met him, I would have let him die instead.
I was walking home from my night shift when sickening thuds of flesh against flesh echoed against the tall apartment buildings. Peeking from around the corner, I spotted the man on the ground, his assailant pulling at his shirt collar and repeatedly pounding his fist into him—every fiber of my being tingled with a warning that I should stay far from the danger. I didn’t listen.
At the time, all I could think about was saving an innocent life. Without thought, I reacted. Releasing the dark tendrils of power stirring within, I focused the surprise bolt right at the attacker’s chest. It was a clean hit. The body jerked violently, falling back to the ground.
I dashed to the man on the ground, his face bruised and bloodied. It took little effort to grab his arm and drag him away. I pulled him to his feet, lent him my shoulder, and rushed him back to my place. I didn’t stop, didn’t look back. For the first time in my life, I killed someone. No, not just someone. I killed mykind. However, I didn’t know then.
When I got the man home, I cared for him. Cleaned his wounds, patched him up, and then left him resting on the couch. He wasn’t coherent enough to know where he was. It must have been from the several blows to the head. I sat in the chair across from him, nervously watching until he fell into a deep sleep.
I stood up and began to pace. How stupid was I? Using my power after hiding it for so long and bringing a stranger to my shitty apartment. What if someone saw it? Never mind that. What will happen when they find the body? Would it be traced back to me? It wasn’t uncommon for our kind to attack and kill for fun. It was said to be in our very nature. Though, I wouldn’t know since I was abandoned at an orphanage and left to fend for myself. I only learned the truth when I turned 18 and accidentally released a bolt at my only friend, Cass. It was a small wound, but the damage was irreversible.
Shortly after, magical enforcers stormed the orphanage dedicated to removing all dark magic from the world. I escaped through the compassion of the orphanage mother, who showed me a hidden tunnel. She was known for protecting many creatures and helping them to survive. I found out years later that she was dragged out into the streets and slaughtered publicly as a warning.
I did well to hide my power, only using it when necessary. Stopping in my kitchen to look back at the man on my couch, I chewed my fingernails. It would all be ok, right? I thought it was honestly going to be. Instead, I’m faced with the truth. No matter how kind I was to him, feeding him and helping him get back on his feet, I thought I could trust him enough to tell the truth.
Crunching steps bring me back to the present. I blink a few times to clear my vision. Get up, Fight! But I can’t. I drop my head hopelessly instead and close my eyes.
“Get up, Filth.“
I stay unmoving.
“GET UP!” A swift kick knocks the wind out of me in a wail, “Fight me!”
I crumple to the ground, shaking. There’s nothing left of my sad, pathetic life. Hiding, living in constant fear, never feeling safe; it was all a waste.
“What’s the point? Just do it already.”
I stare at his boots, empty, waiting for sweet solace to come. A metal click of a gun cocking prepares me, but nothing follows. Suddenly, I lurch off the ground and am inches from his face. His fists are full of my shirt and the gun presses against my cheek.
“Why?” He shakes me with each word, furious and unsure of how to release his rage. “Why are you making this so difficult? Why can’t you fight me and give me a reason to hate you? You’re supposed to be evil! How are you like this?”
His eyes grow desperate while his questions are left unanswered. I feel his pain, and yet all I can do is smile. Not with mockery or malice. I reach my hand out and lightly brush his cheek.
“You don’t think I’m evil.”
I understand his struggle, the fluctuation of his moral compass questioning what is right and just. His eyes flick across my face, bouncing from one eye to another as if the answers would appear from its depths like a fortune-telling toy ball. Removing my hand from his face, I tenderly hold his fist.
“You have two choices: Complete your duty, return to your organization and be praised for killing two demons. Or stay with me.”
His eyes widen, blinking at the thought. Is this a possibility? I’m not even sure of what I was saying. It’s crazy, unbelievable! However, it is possible.
“I wasn’t living my life before I met you. I spent all my time confused and alone. We could learn from each other; teach each other. So please, stay.”
I hold my breath for a while, and just when my lungs scream for release, he says yes.
The festival grounds were busy with people preparing. Shop stalls, food venders, and tents were set up in a half crescent. Circles made of rope marked off small performance spaces for acts and entertainers along the path ways to tables and seats. In the center was a stage with an opening for dancing. Musicians were already practicing a few jigs while children danced. Drina smiled from the entrance, watching the children bump into each other carelessly, laughing and cheering.
It was easy to view the entire grounds from the street outside the city. Little fence lines of royal purple flags with gold trim led you right to the giant welcome banner. Each flag had the Steaua Lunii symbol, a full moon with a wax and waning moon connecting on each side. The string of flags hung from poles around the entire fair ground and hung in front or beside each structure.
Slowly Drina made her way through the fairground, nodding at those who stopped working to observe her presence. There were still a few hours before the festival would officially begin, so many villages weren’t allowed to roam the grounds unless they had official business. To Drina, she felt at home. Walking freely at her own pace, unafraid of those around her, and willing to make eye contact with confidence. She knew they would know in an instant she was one of them. Not many people would brazenly walk among them without fear or judgment.
Very soon, Drina was greeted with smiles. A few of the elders would kiss the tip of their fingers, offer it above them, then extend it out towards her. It was a traditional greeting of blessing, then Drina would reply by kissing her own fingers, offering it below and across. “Bless the heavens above, and the lands below you.” Although being able to interact with her people felt nostalgic, Drina knew to be wary.
In the very far back part of the grounds, Drina could see several carriages and the tip of a large tent. It was most likely where the bands of gypsies slept. Close to the pathway ahead sat two shaggy looking dogs guarding it. As she approached, the mutts sat alert, watching her every move. Behind them, several more appeared out of the shadows to roam around.
Oh a traveler’s life, Drina huffed flatly. Memories of her childhood began to flood her of the times she moved around with her family band. Constantly living in small herds, clustering in safe havens with other bands, still keeping to themselves while protecting each other. And then there were the Travellers mutts. Gypsy dogs were a special kind of breed that looked like a regular canine to the naked eye. You could never tell what specific mixed breeds it had, and often they would come in various sizes of cur. For those who knew better, they weren’t just any mutt; they were spirit dogs.
In the dark, a glow within their eyes flickered dimly, revealing their nature of shadow and magic. Any Traveller worth their salt had one. However, mutts were the most troublesome breed to handle. Mutts didn’t eat physical food, instead they feasted on their owner’s soul well, the source of their power. If Drina wasn’t constantly worrying about money, food, or shelter for the two of them, she would consider a mutt for herself. The wealth of her soul-well was deep and the mutt would offer security while being out in the wild. Irrationally, she argued that the reason she didn’t want one was because of her fear to contain and control her power. The truth, however, was because she hated dogs. Had they been ravens instead, she would’ve bought one in seconds.
Without stopping, Drina walked between the two mutts. A small shiver ran up her spine as she passed, but they did not move. Continuing down the path, it ran between several clusters of bands, each one represented by different sigils and crests. So far, there were none that she recognized, which also didn’t give much comfort. Several mutts in between clusters would step out of the shadow to pause and watch, their eyes glowing red. Finally up ahead, Drina could see the central tent with three dogs on guard, expectantly waiting for her to approach.
Drina had an inkling that the owner was within. Judging by the presence of mutts he was either an incredible businessman or very powerful. She stopped several feet away from the entrance and immediately felt several mutts surrounding her from behind. With a deep breath, she slowly lifted her right hand and pushed her left one down. Drina then motioned her arms into a wide circle and as her right hand descended, she placed it just behind her hip. With her left hand, she continued to extend it above her head while sliding her left leg forward to bow. Looking up at the dogs, she waited. The middle mutt stared intensely at her, before licking at his lips. In the palm of her left hand, Drina pooled her energy into a small blue orb. With a cold snap, the orb split in her hand and the mutt turned around to walk instead.
Even after her father taught her how to deal with spirit dogs, facing one still terrified her. Drina followed it, pushing past the curtains. Inside was a divider hallway that led to a small opening. Several men spoke in her mother tongue on the other side, laughing and telling crude jokes. She stepped up to the opening and took a deep breath. Shielding herself, she straightened her back and stepped out confidently.
There were four men, three crowded around on the left side and one sat behind a cluttered desk. It was covered with piles of paper scrolls and a large stack of assorted coin bags. Some of the coins had slid off the table and littered the ground. The chair behind the desk was built like a throne, fitted with large soft purple pillows hemmed with golden thread seams. Her sudden unannounced presence silenced the room. Drina wore the biggest grin she could muster, stepping up to the desk.
“Good day lads, I’m here to find work. I heard there was some to be found here.”
A thin, square-chinned man slouching in the chair sat up with a glare, his face red with surprise and rage. His common tongue was heavy with accent, a dead giveaway of his lineage.
“How did you get past the dogs?”
The other men stepped forward, waiting for the word to dispatch her. This must be Mr. Gafrald, the man Lulu told her about. He wore several rings and chains around his neck, practically screaming his wealth. Crossing her arms, Drina tried to act tough.
“I know how to deal with your kind and am no stranger to your ways.”
With a hard front, Gafrald examined her clothes and hair. It wasn’t exactly the style of a Traveller, since she preferred to avoid attention, yet he seemed to relax. Anyone stepping past a gypsy dog would need to know a thing or two, else they would be dead.
“We have no room for performers.”
“I’m not here to perform. I can read fortunes.”
The man chuckled humorlessly. “Oh, like we don’t have hundreds of those.”
The other men chuckled along, ridiculing her. Typical, Drina thought. They were mocking her. She pulled out her fan from her side pouch, holding it high enough for them to see the chain dangling from it.
“Care for a sample before I take a booth?”
The look in the man’s eye softened, he recognized the embroiders right away before focusing on the small beaded rose. It was the Travellers’ rose from Scion, a mark any gypsy leader would know with a glimpse. Not only did her fan have her kin’s crest, it was a tool well known within her family’s bloodline. A few men shuffled uncomfortably, and one leaned in to whisper in Gafrald’s ear. He spoke in their mother tongue, assuming she couldn’t understand.
“Could have bought it at a market. A lot ofmi’riquals are murdered and plundered.”
Gafrald sighed, leaning back into his chair, “Ay, she could. Call more hounds and prepare to clean the place up. Can’t risk letting her leave alive.”
Drina felt herself losing her cool. How dare they insult her. Mi’riquals was a term used for those who abandoned their bands. They gave up their traditions and often lived as the tyrant kings’ citizens. Meaning, they chose to betray their kin. Drina would never betray her family or her friends. They were the ones who betrayed her. Gritting her teeth, she interjected.
“How dare you.” The men stiffened, turning pale. “I’m no Mi’riqual. You accuse me, then threaten me? Is this how you treat your own?”
Drina’s fist shook, the air quickly turning cold around her. Shadows dripped down from the corners of the room, dimming the light in the room as whispers bounced off the walls.The men looked around, backing towards Gafrald. It was bad enough to insult a fellow gypsy, but worse to insult one with power. Holding up his hands, Gafrald stood up and signaled for everyone to calm down.
“My apologies, please. You know just as well as I do, just protecting our own.”
Drina glared, watching his hands before she took a deep breath. The shadows receded as she exhaled, returning the light to the room. Gafrald smiled with genuine interest, lowering his hands to the desk.
“Good good. How may I make amends, sister.” His breath puffed in the air as he spoke.
“Give me a booth and a 90% cut of the profits.”
“Ha! I wouldn’t give my pap that much. Look, 60% and you’ll get a prime booth.”
Drina wasn’t going to settle easily. If she was going to risk exposing herself, she was going to make it worth her while.
“85% and I will give you a seance. I may not be a performer, but I’ll give you a show to the likes you’ve never seen. All ticket sales are yours and I keep the tips.”
She allowed a moment for him to consider before extending her hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Gafrald tapped the desk a few times before bursting into a hearty laugh. Reaching over, he took her hand, shaking it with a firm grip. Looking at the other men, he wagged a finger at her.
“Ehh, a true gypsy here! Knows how to barter like a true Brynian.”
Drina chuckled. He must’ve been comparing her to his own band. Each band had different names, giving them strength in trade while traveling. The stronger the reputation, the better deals they would get with goods. He sat down, pulling out a ledger and pen.
“Alright, and what name should I put you down as?”
This was easier than she thought, half-heartedly giving her a false name. “Drina Forest.”
Gafrald sharpened his gaze, his smile curling sinisterly. Chills colder than the room ran up Drina’s spine. She recognized that smile.
“Your real name. There is a lot on the line for me with this type of deal. I need assurance that I am not going to be played a fool.”
Pulling out a contract, he slid it across the table towards her. Drina felt the blood draining from her face. It was a contract she was well aware of, the kind that was not just a legal binding of laws. This was a blood-bind. She should’ve known better. Gafrald propped his elbows up and folded his hands, waiting for her to take it before continuing.
“You’ll perform tomorrow night, at the full moon’s peak. After the show closes, the contract will expire and release you.”
Drina swallowed hard, glancing from the paper to the men around her. “My name.. You won’t sell it, right?”
Gafrald snarled. “What kind of a businessman would I be if I sold my clients’ names? I’m not scummy like those back home. You have my word.”
His word meant nothing, just like hers. Gafrald held out a long thin needle. It was a special kind of tool for blood-binding. Staring at the tip of the needle, Drina felt conflicted. The voice of her mother echoed in her mind.
“My child, whatever you do, no matter what the cost,” Drina reached for the needle and poked the tip of her finger. The clear vessel filled with blood. Next, she held it like a pen, her hand shook as she held it over the signature line. Closing her eyes, she moved her hand.“Never. Sign a blood-bind.”
After the last scratch on the paper, the needle snapped loudly and shifted to dust. It crumbled within her hand when she opened her eyes to see the red ink of her name on the paper.
Lana Kisaiya Pearsley
It was done, he had her name. If it had been a false one, the needle wouldn’t have broken and he would know she was lying. Gafrald stood up, holding his hand out. Drina rolled the contract, hesitant to pass it along to him. Not that she could do anything with it, once it signed there was nothing left but to complete the agreement. Hers was to perform.
Holding it tightly, she pressed it into his hand. Gafrald didn’t rush her, while she held the scroll. It was never an easy choice to sign a blood-bind. Immediately after she let go, he tightened the roll harder then pressed it flat. He poured wax over the seam and stamped it with his seal. Lifting it to show her, Gafrald reassured.
“If the seal is broken not by your hand, your name will disappear but the contract will still be valid. This is for your security.”
It was an extra precaution, giving Drina a sense of comfort even if it was a lie. He opened a chest, placing it on top of several others in the same manner. With the box slammed shut, Gafrald nodded to the man at his side. He grabbed a bag of coins, tossing it at her. Drina was surprised by the weight as she caught it. Opening it she fingered through the coins while the owner spoke.
“This is an advance. Buy whatever you need to prepare. Any money you don’t make up for with work, you will have to pay back out of pocket. Spend it wisely.”
With a cheeky grin, Drina pulled the strings of the bag closed.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be expecting another bag this size or more before the festival is done.”
Not waiting for his reply, she turned to walk out of the room. As soon as she was around the corner, her knees buckled almost sending her to the ground. From head to toe, she was shaking with fear. How did she manage to pull it off? Covering her mouth, she could hear the men in the room laugh.
“She’s impressive, I’ll give her that! I’m excited to see if the family reputation exceeds her. We must keep an eye on her for sure! Send the brutes to set the big tent up. We’ll sell a full house pronto.”
Pushing to her feet, Drina quietly left the tent. The cool air nipped at her skin, refreshing her. Sweat drenched her back from the stress, her heart pumping hard as she ran down the path.
What was she going to tell Ocian? That she signed her name away for more coins than her worth in weight? How the hell was she going to pull off a seance? If she wasn’t capable of that, how was she going to even save Hestar from death? All these things she had never done before and just like that, she impulsively made reckless choices. Drina stopped near a carriage band, panting as she held her sides. The thoughts spiraled making her head spin. Hiding behind the carriage from the festival grounds view, Drina threw up on the wheel.
She fell back on her ass before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Panting, Drina crossed her legs and buried her face into her hands. What a mess. A year of hiding in forests, sleeping in ditches, and avoiding major cities, Drina did everything to keep Ocian safely away from danger. If she hadn’t pushed so hard to walk so far, if they had stopped in the last town instead of walking all night to this one, she wouldn’t have stayed at the hostel. She wouldn’t have met Hestar and read her fortune. Drina wouldn’t have even concerned herself with participating in the festival.
Tossing her head back, Drina looked at the moon already peaking into the sky. It was brightly illuminating against the pink and purple hues of the evening sky. Steauna Lunii Festival, a solstice celebration that peaks for three days before waning. Of all nights to do a seance, at least it was the best time of the year.
A thought suddenly dawned on Drina, it was the solstice. Of course she would be able to pull it off. How did she manage to forget that the veil between the living and the dead would be at its weakest? She perked up. It didn’t solve her pending dilemma with Hestar or Ocian, but at least she had a plan.
For now, Drina needed to gather some supplies. She stood up, brushed herself off and made her way to the fairgrounds. Taking a quick look at some of the vendors, she found several who sold various candles, incense, herbs and scarves. It was refreshing to shop around for specific items she needed without having a hard time bartering for a good price. Every vendor she spoke to didn’t put up much of a fight either, almost happy to give her their wares for cheap. They would smile warmly, just happy to help a fellow gypsy.
Checking the materials she finished shopping for, Drina almost ran into a man standing before her. Startled, she paused, then recognized him as one of Gafrald’s henchmen.
“Oh.. uh, did I forget something?”
The man nodded, his face hard as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, come with me.”
Nervously, she followed him. He didn’t lead her back towards the tent, instead it was towards the festival entrance. They approached a small tent when he stopped, holding the flap for her to step inside. There was a small table, a few pillows to sit upon, and an incense burner hanging from the middle. It was just enough space for her to set up a few things and have guests join her at the small table. The man entered behind her, offering a smile.
“This is where you will be working. Mr. Gafrald always keeps his promises.”
Drina was impressed. Prime real estate indeed! Close to the gates and easy to access, making coin will be easy. The man continued. “We will make up a sign for you in the next few minutes and you should be in business. Fel’astie.”
“Fel’astie, and my thanks to Mr. Gafrald.”
With a nod he left. Once the flap closed, Drina let out a giggle and looked about her tent. This was going to be a snap, she thought. Quickly she set up her area to prepare for the evening, placing a green velvet cloth down with a few crystals at the four corners. Taking her tarot deck out of a small pouch, she placed it in the center. Usually, Drina would use her fan, but with all the gypsy around she thought it would be best not to draw too much attention just yet.
They may be far from their old region, but the oligarchy king had eyes and ears everywhere. News that he was using Traveller’s as tools in his war spread far and wide across the country. It made sense why Gafrald and his men would think she’d be a traitor. Until she fulfilled the contract, she needed to be wary of them too. Not all Traveller’s bloodlines held power, especially like Drina’s, but it didn’t stop the king from hunting them down.
Wrapping up her hair in the scarf, she finally finished setting up. Scanning the table, she clasped her hands excitedly. How long had it been since she got to play a traditional role of a fortune teller? All that was missing was some tea and she would be set for the night. This was a luxury she couldn’t afford, although it was a lovely notion. Now to wait for her work to walk in.
WP: From squibler.io “There was a legend about the well in the garden.”
I wanted to just do something fun and quick to launch me back into creative writing. I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress and have been told by my therapist to schedule activities I enjoy. Since that just so happens to be writing, I figured it couldn’t hurt to get a little spoopy stories out there. I didn’t quite follow the prompt, but the whole point was to inspire some kind creativity and this is what I came up with. I hope you all enjoy!
– Turan
___________
“Locals say if you drop a penny down and you hear a splash, you’ll have good luck for a year.”
“What if you don’t?”
Lenny hung off his older cousin’s every word. He believed all of his stories, even if it did sound a little far fetched. With a flash of smoke coming from Ken’s fingers, he produced a shiny new penny.
“With my lucky penny, you don’t have to worry about it.” Ken gave Lenny a wink while passing the coin on. With a ruffle of his hair, Ken stood up and left the room to grab another beer. Lenny was thrilled! Without waiting, he rushed out of the house and down the street.
The well his cousin spoke about was well known in the town, only Lenny never heard of the myth. Good luck for a year? Boy did he ever need it! Lenny wasn’t a popular kid in school, nor did he have any friends. The girl he had a crush on didn’t even know he existed. With this well, he could change all that.
Running out of his neighborhood, Lenny bolted into the forest. It was just over on the other side of the street. The path was overgrown and hard to follow, but that didn’t stop Lenny. Leaping and weaving, he made it into a small clearing. There in the center was the well. It was old with crumbling bricks, patches of moss covered the sides.
Slowly stepping forward, Lenny squeezed the penny in his hands tightly. His heart was pounding loudly as he panted, still catching his breath from the run. With a clear mind, he whispered his wish.
“I hope everyone at school will like me and that they will all be my friends.”
Holding his hand out over the well’s hole, he opened his hand and watched it drop. Lenny held his breath while he listened. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed. Nothing. Lenny frowned, leaning it to make sure he didn’t miss it. How deep was this well? Letting his breath finally go, Lenny dropped his arm to his side. Just his luck.
“I bet the well dried out just because it knew I was coming..”
After a few more moments of silence, he curiously leaned over the bricks to take a look down at the bottom. It was dark and hard to see over the edge. Straining his eyes, he hopped up on the well ledge to get a better view down at the bottom. Out of the seemingly never ending pit, there was movement. Two eyes and a horrific grin shot up at Lenny. Before he could scream, it shot a hand out at him and grabbed his head. In a fell swoop, Lenny was pulled into the well with the creature.
The forest was left to its peaceful state, the sounds of rustling leaves and birds chirping all that remained.
The morning came all too soon when Drina felt a few taps on her foot. Grumbling, she rolled to the opposite guard of the bed.
“Give me a few more minutes, Ocian.”
It was a sleepless night for Drina, Hestar’s lips were the only dreams she could conjure. It made for a very uncomfortable night and she regretted not spending the extra coin to sleep in a separate bed. Not that it bothered her to share with Ocian since she was the only family she had left. Drina’s single wish was solace from her pent-up tension.
“My, what a sleepy head. If you keep on, you’ll miss midday.”
Startled awake, Drina shot up and reached under the pillow for her dagger out of reflex. She was expecting her sister’s sweet, innocent voice but was met with the ragged and aged tone of an elderly woman. The hostel owner Lulu stood at the foot of the bunk with arms crossed, Ocian smiling beside her.
“This little one has been up for hours now, helping around while waiting for you. Poor thing is hungry but wouldn’t eat until you’re up. I don’t usually offer this to guests, but I made lunch for you both. On the house as a thank you for Ocian’s help, but the next meal will cost you.”
Drina pulled her hand away from her weapon and rubbed at her eyes. She turned to see the bright afternoon sky with dismay. Why didn’t Ocian wake her up sooner?
“You didn’t have to do that, we brought food to eat.”
Lulu waved her off dismissively. “Nonsense. We will be in the common room when you are up and at it.”
She chuckled light-heartedly, patting Ocian on the back as she passed by. Drina watched her, waiting until Lulu was out of earshot before inching to the edge of the bunk. Narrowing her eyes with concern, she mouthed, “Are you doing ok?”
In return, Ocian grinned widely, checking around before leaning in to whisper in their mother tongue.
“It’s ok, I helped her cook it and no one is around. I’ll be safe until you join us.”
Her casual tone was no more comforting than Lulu’s. They didn’t know anyone here and she was wandering about without Drina. Before Drina could lecture her, Ocian rushed out of the resting room. Flabbergasted, Drina flopped back down on the bed and stared at the roof. What has gotten into her?
Ocian was more energetic than usual. Though, Drina wasn’t one to talk because of her careless actions last night. Loosening up on her powers, kissing Hestar, and now Ocian roaming around alone while she was still sleeping? These were things she would never have done before. Was it because they were so close to escaping this country that she lowered her guard?
Propping up on her elbows, Drina looked over at Hestar’s empty bunk. It was neatly made along with the other beds. Everyone was already out and about with their day, leaving the room quiet and relaxed. For a brief moment, it all felt nice. A welcomed pace after months of uncertainty.
With a huff, she got up and grabbed her bag to pull out soap and some fresh garments. Drina and Ocian mostly wore one outfit while traveling with only one set of spare clothes. Any more and it would be difficult to carry or keep safe. It helped that the hostel had a place to wash their clothes if they needed.
For now, her outfit was good enough to head down to the festival to look for work. Although Drina had enough for the boat fair stashed in a hidden pocket, earning a few more wouldn’t hurt. Maybe she could score enough to replace a few pieces of clothes, too. Ocian’s were starting to fray even after the last time she sewed it up.
Finishing quickly in the washroom, Drina got dressed and made her way to the common room. The building was empty and a lot bigger than she realized. There were two hallways that connected to the hostel lobby. She walked past the front desk and spotted a door hidden behind a small nook leading to Lulu’s living quarters.
The common room was a lot smaller than the dorm. In the middle was a divider that separated the room. The left side held several couches lining the walls and a few chairs in the middle around a playing table. The right side had a few counters along the back with an oven to cook and small circular dining tables spread out. Ocian was already sitting at a table close by, her legs tucked underneath while resting her arms on the table to talk with Lulu. Patiently, she smiled and nodded to everything Ocian said, chuckling at her excitement.
Drina glanced at the couches, remembering Hester’s offer. Had she taken up the offer to follow joining her here, would they have stopped? Images popping into her mind made her face burn up. Rubbing the back of her neck, she rushed over to the table to take a seat.
A bulging plate of food sat before the chair, still steaming. Lulu had cooked two full grilled sausages, a heaping pile of egg rice, and a baked yam. Drina’s stomach growled at the sight of it. When was the last time she had a fully cooked meal besides the dried lizard jerky? They were the easiest to catch and made simple meals on the road.
Without a word, Drina excitedly grabbed her fork and knife and cut into the sausage. The moment it hit her mouth, the flavor took over. It was juicy, tender, and easy to chew. She moaned with delight. Hardly finished chewing, she shoved her mouth full of rice before swallowing it all. Taking the glass of fresh water, she guzzled it down, then grabbed a small dinner roll next to her plate and tore a chunk out of it.
Lula’s laughter filled the room and startled Drina. She forgot she was there while rudely scarfing down the meal.
“Both of you! The way you eat, it’s like you’ve never seen food before!”
Ocian giggled, watching Drina slowly chew her bread. “Drina makes us jerky from whatever she catches. It tastes dry and gritty. Sometimes we find berries or fruit but those are always bitter.”
Offended, Drina glared. With her mouth still full, she complained quietly. “You eat it though! Sorry, it’s not as good as this.”
Grumpily, she took another swig of the water. It was relieving to have something so fresh and not just from their bota waterskin. They laughed and although they meant well, the sting still hurt Drina. Turning back to her food, she shoveled a few more mouths full of rice and ate the rest of the sausage. Cutting into her yam, she caught Lulu watching, patiently waiting for her while she ate.
“Do you know anything about the festival in town?”
The smile on her face faded at the mention of it. “Yes, the Steaua Lunii festival. Did you come because of it?”
It wasn’t originally the reason to begin with, but after the events that transpired last night it wouldn’t hurt. Drina felt a little guilty that Hester was the cause for selfish reasons, but she also couldn’t shake the feeling of Scutum’s omen.
“At first no, we were only passing through towards the eastern ports. But, since we are here, I might as well find work.”
“How did you know about the festival?”
“One of the guests mentioned it when they came in.”
Ocian perked up. “Was it Hestar?”
Almost choking on her food, Drina sat up straight. “How did you..”
“I helped her make the beds. You were taking too long to wake up and I was bored. When she came to clean the bunk next to us, I wanted to help. ”
“The bunk next to you?” Lulu raised a brow suspiciously, slowly turning towards Drina. “You don’t say.”
“Yep! She asked me if I slept well and asked if my feet were sore from our travels. She’s really nice, and pretty too.” Ocian paused for a moment to think, “ Wait, when did you talk to her? She left before me and Lulu came to wake you up.”
“Yes, I’m also curious.”
Lulu crossed her arms, and leaned back into her chair. Her presence intimidated Drina, giving off a stern motherly look. As Drina’s cheeks burned, she pretended not to notice her deep soul searching eyes. They both knew no one stayed in the bunk beside them and Drina was incriminating herself.
“I uh.. She saw me last night and came to speak with me. She came in with a crowd shortly after Lulu showed us the way.”
“Hestar, that girl! Always sticking her nose where it shouldn’t be. I’ve told her to not bother guests when they arrive so late at night.”
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mind at all. We just talked, that’s all.” Drina nervously chuckled, hoping to change the topic.
“Is that why you weren’t in the bunk when I was having a nightmare?” Ocian tilted her head with big curious eyes. Drina could see the pieces clicking together in her clever mind. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back into the chair.
“Yep. I didn’t want to wake you while we, uh, talked.”
Ocian frowned, clearly not happy with the lack of details. Before she could ask another question, Drina shot her a warning glare. It didn’t help that Lulu had the same vibe.
“You be careful of that one. She may be like a daughter to me, but she stirs up whirlwinds like the gods themselves!”
Rubbing her chin, Drina stared at the food left on her plate. It was a little too late for that. Hestar already did a hell of a job creating a storm and Drina was completely swept up in it overnight. Poking at her yam, she reminisced over the night and couldn’t help but grin. With a light shake of her head, Lulu uncrossed her arms to fold a cleaning rag in front of her.
“You’re interested in the festival for work, what kind skills do you have?”
“I can do a little fortune telling.” Drina stuck a small piece of yam in her mouth causally. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
Ocian bounced in her seat, excitement getting the best of her. “Not only that! She can also commune with the dead! She’s really good at it! One time she-”
“Ocian!” Drina slammed her fist to the table, then scanned the room to make sure no one came in. Slouching in the chair, Ocian apologized. “Sorry.”
With a sympathetic sigh, Lulu reached out to her shoulder to comfort her.
“It’s ok, child. You must not talk much about yourselves. You got carried away. It happens.”
Looking at Drina with an encouraging smile, she continued. “You will definitely be able to get work then. Most of the participants are also entertainers. But you must be careful, the town may accept the presence of gypsy’s during the festival, but once it is over you won’t be celebrated.”
Drina huffed with a frown. “I know. Being part of events will just put a target on our backs. Will we be safe enough to stay here a few nights longer?”
Giving a grand smile, Lulu reassured her. “It will always be safe here for Travellers. You have my word.”
It wasn’t much to trust the word of a stranger who she still hardly knew, but it was more than she’d ever been promised. “Thank you. Would you happen to know the person in charge? I’ll head out once I‘m done eating.”
Lulu stood up from the table, grabbing the water jug to refill it. “It seems that I just so happen to.”
With a smile, Drina nodded. At least she won’t waste much time. With the festival celebration lasting only a few days, maybe she could stop whatever danger was riding in the not-so-distant future.
This short story was written during my writing class at University. It was inspired by a postcard and was supposed to be about 500 words. I didn’t edit it much since my class because it was a good landmark for my skill at the beginning. I was pretty proud of it for being my first story to be criticized. I hope you enjoy it just as much as my classmates did. -Turan
A familiar red pickup truck bounced up the rocky driveway while Doug struck the match. The fizzling flash of light settled into a steady flame before he lit the tobacco pressed loosely in the pipe.
The truck door flew open, and a tall, lanky farm boy hopped out, adjusting his hat and belt before grabbing a case of beers out of the back. Doug watched unfazed, pulling deep on the pipe. Chimney puffs rose while he began to rock his wooden chair.
“Tough weather, eh?”
“Mmmhmm.”
His gritty voice hummed low to high casually, followed by silence. The farm boy slandered up to the porch step, pausing at the railing to lean against it.
“Been inta town lately?”
Doug scratched his grizzled face with the mouthpiece of his pipe. This young buck commonly came over to cluck like a hen about the town gossip. At least he brought decent beer.
“Not as of late.”
The farm boy broke a beer from the plastic with a chuckle and tossed it lightly. Doug rocked forward in time to catch the perfect throw.
“Did ya hear ’bout the farm a few clicks down? Few girls runnin’ a horse ranch. Tucker saw ’em pickin’ up a few bales at Ken’s.”
With one hand, Doug cracked his beer open and took a swig. The flavor of bitter-cold beer and tobacco swirled in his mouth a moment before he swallowed hard. The eager buck continued.
“They’ve been goin’ ’round town of’en together too. They seem awfully close for bein’ friends.”
Doug shot a stern side glance at the kid, puffing hard on his pipe. The buck was unaware, cracking a beer to wet his tongue. Smacking his lips, he looked towards the cows grazing in the field.
“From what Tucker’s sayin’, they might be one of those people. Ya know? There’s been talk that people in town are weary of ’em. Sid’s thinkin’ bout denyin’ ’em service, too.”
With a halt, Doug hardened. “Seems a bit stupid to turn good money away at the door.”
The farm boy dropped his jaw, face white as a ghost. “Arencha worried? ‘Bout ’em bein’… Ya know, Freaks-“
A crashing thud broke through his words before he could finish. Standing tall with fury in his eyes, Doug growled.
“Leave ’em be, Todd. Those girls ain’t nothing to be spooked of. Bringin’ cash flow to a dead town will do us folks some good. Mind your manners if ya know what’s good for ya. Farm hands like you might finally be able to get some decen’ work.”
Without delay, Doug stormed into his house and slammed the door. Tossing his beer and pipe on the counter carelessly, he paced the room. A truck engine rumbled through the walls, slowly revving off in the distance.
Stopping in the middle of the room, Doug placed his hands on his hips. Time felt eternal as pained eyes held the picture of him and his daughter in the pasture on the wall.
Drina repeated the name in her thoughts. Hestar, what a beautiful name. They silently stared at one another while Hestar leaned closer. Her lips were full and lush, begging Drina to taste them. All she could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat and the soft stir of Ocian beside her. Ocian!
With a gasp, Drina turned from Hestar to check if she was still asleep. Thankfully, Ocian readjusted and continued her peaceful slumber. Drina let her breath out in a slow, steady stream. It wasn’t a secret to Ocian that she liked women. She feared more about the impact her energy would have on her than being caught. Kissing Hestar might push the limit and break the bottle of energy she had suppressed. Ocian was a reminder to control herself.
Hestar dropped her head with a quiet laugh. Embarrassed, Drina dropped her head against the wall. With a small hum, Hestar propped herself on the ledge and crossed her arms under her chest. It took everything in Drina not to ogle the presented cleavage exposed for her pleasure. Even with Ocian beside her, Hestar wasn’t about to give up. Instead, she leaned close to her ear.
“There’s a common room on the other side of the hostel. Want to accompany me there? It will be mostly empty, and no one will interrupt us.”
This offer was too tempting. Drina knew the moment they were alone that there wouldn’t be an exchange of words. She didn’t need foresight to predict that outcome. Rolling the idea around, she debated the choices; if she left to the common room, there was no protecting Ocian but staying here would wake her. Either option would wreak havoc on her control.
Biting at her bottom lip, Drina looked at the empty bunk across hers. Maybe they could still spend more time together without leaving. No one was sleeping there anyways, and Drina wouldn’t be either after this exchange.
The image of Cygnus floated in the back of her mind. There was no such thing as coincidence, and all the signs were there. Something about this woman compelled Drina. One look at Hestar’s charming smile lured her in. The temptress lowered her eyes to Drina’s lips and lingered there, waiting for a reply. Oh, Hells, Drina thought.
“How about the bottom bunk, and we see from there?”
With a cheerful bounce, Hestar grinned triumphantly and hopped down from the ledge. Drina carefully moved Ocian from her side to slip away, then carefully climbed to the floor. Without the comfort of the bunks ledges, there was nothing to bar distance between them. It made Drina anxious. What next? She had no experience since she always kept her distance from any stranger. There was no luxury of falling in love while on the run.
Hestar was a few inches from her and didn’t take long to act. She took Drina’s hand in hers and gently pulled her to the other bunk. Sitting down, Drina glanced at her bunk to reassure herself. If Ocian woke, she wasn’t far.
With a hard swallow, Drina gave Hestar her full attention. What do they do now? Should they continue where they left off or talk? It was painfully obvious how awful she was at socializing, never mind flirting or hooking up with someone. What could she talk about that wouldn’t give her origins away? Fidgeting with her fan, it dawned on her that she was still holding it. Maybe she could show off a little bit to ease her nervousness.
“Would you… Care to have your fortune read?”
Hestar blinked, her expression with genuine surprise. “You mean like palm readings and tarot cards?”
With a smirk, Drina took Hestar’s hand in hers to guide a finger across the slips of the fan. Starting from the end, she dragged her finger along the folds of the accordion.
“Stop your finger on the slip that feels right. If you don’t feel it the first time, try again until you do. The first opening is your past. second, your present, and third’s your future.”
Hestar giggled, raising a skeptic eyebrow. Drina knew what she was thinking, it was always the same reaction. How can you read a fortune from a fan? Not everyone had her ability, nor did they have a magical fan. It was always a light reading, though. It never ended well with an entirely accurate deep reading, plus it wouldn’t be as romantic.
Each time Hestar stopped on a fold, Drina gracefully popped it out quickly with a flick. After years of practice and memorization, she already knew more about Hestar than she may have known about herself. Drina let go of her hand and turned to show the first panel. Hestar inched in close to remove the space between them.
“I wish it were your folds I could run my fingers through.”
The comment made Drina blush brightly. It was more abrasive than she was ready for, and she needed a moment to gather her thoughts. She cleared her throat before she spoke.
“This sign here means you were hurt in your past. Your family was met with abandonment.”
Hestar shielded herself, breathing before running her fingers down Drina’s leg. The teasing sent shivers through Drina’s body. She assumed it was a way to brush off a serious topic quickly.
“My dad left us when I was younger. Left a void in my life.”
Drina already knew. She saw images of the devastating impact on Hestar’s family, and later, her mother passed from heartbreak. Hestar was the youngest of four siblings and had to fend for herself. With a heavy heart, Drina spoke softly.
“I’m sorry. My parents also… well, let’s say my sister is all I have left.”
Moving quickly to the next image, Drina scoffed with a smile. The constellation had already visited her earlier as Cygnus plagued Drina again tonight.
“The good news is at least you will find someone you will fall in love with.”
She closed the first panel and showed the swan with a flourish. Hestar chuckled, pressing her body against Drina to closely examine the swan.
“Oh? Tell me more. Is she a beautiful woman with dark hazel eyes?”
Drina feigned a shocked gasp. “She? Oh no, it says here: an elderly man in the hostel. I think I saw a balding man who fits the description perfectly.”
Hestar belted out a laugh, burying her head into Drina’s shoulder. Drina shhed her, using the moment to wrap her arm around. Her hand brushed against Hestar’s soft, lush skin to pull her close. Drina took in the smell of her sandalwood scent. They giggled a bit longer before Hestar reached for the fan and gently removed it from her hand. She shifted to straddle Drina, placing the fan beside them on the pillow.
“So what does it say about the one I fall in love with then?” Hestar’s eyes twinkled with mischief, reaching to touch the side of Drina’s face. Her fingers traced slowly down her cheek towards her neck. Fighting hard to remember the message, Drina debated how to explain it.
“That you will care for them deeply and that it will bring change to your life.”
As much as the fortune felt right, it was hard to believe it was true. Drina and Ocian would continue further south before heading to the eastern sea. How could a romance this strong exist for them both when she would be gone in a few days? Hestar seemed to also doubt her fortune.
“Seems like quite an impact considering you may only stay a short while.”
Drina gulped, daring to place her hands on Hestar’s thighs. She was at her limit, and her voice cracked while she spoke.
“W-what about you? Are you only here for a few days too? Because you are also staying here in the hostel?”
Between Hestar’s warmth and Drina’s racing heart, she hardly noticed the chill around them. This was the closest contact she’d ever had with a woman, and all control was slipping. Faint ghostly outlines floated behind Hestar, which Drina chose to ignore. So much for keeping her emotions in check. Every fiber of her being wanted to kiss her.
Hestar smirked devilishly, almost reading her mind. She grabbed Drina’s hand and slid it towards her bountiful bottom. Sliding her hand into Drina’s hair, she pulled her face close.
“I live here. Beats paying rent, and I get to meet all sorts of people. Although, none of them have been as stunning as you.”
Was this a line Hestar used for all the girls? Even if she did, it worked wonders on Drina. Unable to resist any further, Drina kissed her.
A fire within set blaze, unlocking emotions she’d not allowed in years. Drina let out a small moan, a mistake on her part. Hestar took it as a signal to ramp the heat up more and pressed her body hard into Drina’s, grinding her hip against her. Sliding her hands under Hestar’s clothes, Drina ran her hand up the small of her back. The heat from her body gave Drina life, a feeling she wasn’t accustomed to.
The ghostly wails around them alerted Drina while they continued kissing passionately. Opening an eye to peek, she could see the spirits surrounding them in a light fog. If she didn’t stop soon, they would take shape of their former selves. The feeling of Hestar’s tongue slipping into her mouth dissolved any thoughts she had. Rolling her eyes back into her head, and all resistance melted away. The only option was to give in. This time, Hestar moaned when Drina followed suit. Hestar dug her fingers into her back and gave her hair a harder tug to deepen the kiss. Drina let out a low rumbling growl from the pain. It was exquisite. Passion and lust devoured her.
The room was loud, and Drina knew the ghosts would be completely visible by now. There were screams and cries begging for her attention. Instead, Drina rolled Hestar under her onto the bed. Her hand was needy, sliding across Hestar’s stomach. One of Hestar’s hands found its way past Drina’s wraps up her back, digging into her skin while the other held her face. The voices were almost deafening when Drina’s hand almost reached Hestar’s supple breast. Over all the noise, one voice cut through crystal clear through all the clammer around her. The spell Hestar had over her shattered in an instant.
“Lana… where are you? Lana?”
Drina froze. It was in her mother tongue. Ocian was having her nightmare again because of the onslaught of Drina’s power. The meek voice even startled Hestar to break apart. Her eyes were wide, unable to make out the words.
Without hesitation, Drina jumped off Hestar to hop up to the ledge. She reached over to stroke Ocian’s head and replied in their dialect.
“Jeta, I am right here. It’s alright.” Switching back to the common tongue, she continued. “It’s alright. We’re in a hostel. It’s just a dream; we’re safe.”
Straining to pull her power in, Drina suppressed it with all she could muster. Ocian turned towards her, opening her teary eyes.
Ocian nodded sleepily, closing her eyes while Drina soothed her.
“Your hands are warm for once. It’s nice.”
The voices were mere wisps through the wind when Ocian slipped back into slumber. The light breathing of her sister was all that could be heard. Drina let out a long sigh, watching her sister a little longer. Stepping to the floor, Drina held the ledge and smacked her head on the wood. With a second thud, she pressed it there while chitting herself. She should’ve known better. How could she be reckless? Reflecting on the moment, she dropped her guard completely.
Dropping her hands to her hips, Drina was surprised when a hand touched her shoulder. Hestar stood beside her, smiling at the sweet display of a sister caring for her family. Drina half expected her to leave after discovering her identity. Her clothes, language, and magic? She might have gotten away with being a seer since you didn’t need magic to practice the craft. But being able to speak a gypsy dialect was always a dead giveaway. It was never taught outside of bloodlines.
What do I say now? Drina fidgeted with her fingers. Still, Hestar took her hands and interlocked her fingers with hers.
“I guess we’ll end it here tonight?”
It was upsetting to conclude the night this way, but it was for the best. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
Hestar shook her head. “Not at all, I understand. Coming from a war-torn place leaves scars. Many refugees pass through here for the night before heading to the port. Scians and Gasfriacians alike.”
Drina flinched. Did Hestar know she was lying from the start? Before Drina gave up hope, Hestar kissed her tenderly.
“I take it you are staying for the festival before you leave then. Are you participating?”
Drina was taken aback. “Festival?”
Nodding like it was common knowledge, Hestar continued. “Yeah. Every year from far and wide, all sorts of gypsies and entertainers come to share their knowledge and talents. It’s quite the event. I just assumed you were here because of that. Given that you read my fortune and can speak the language.”
Drina was shocked. This woman was incredible. With a tilt of her head, she replied optimistically. “And you don’t mind? That I’m a gypsy?”
Unable to hide her smile, Hestar pulled Drina closer, wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Truth be told, I could never get close to one before. Gypsies in these parts always keep to themselves and move in herds. It’s tough to have a single conversation, let alone flirt with one. Finding you and your sister in the hostel alone is exceedingly rare. And I wasn’t lying when I said before, none of them are as stunning as you.”
The fire within Drina began to rage again, making it difficult for her to contain any emotions. Small orbs began to float around them, whispering as they passed by. How was this girl able to affect her so dramatically? Drina turned her head, hiding her blush.
“Say I was at the festival. Would you… Come and see me then?”
Hestar giggled, stepping back from her. When she was far enough, they finally let go of their hands as she continued to walk backward. She stopped at the corner of the bunk to lean against it. “I might. You may also see me again even outside of the festival.”
With that, she winked and disappeared behind the bunk. Her soft voice sang back to her, audible enough to hear it.
“Goodnight, Drina.”
Covering her cheeks, Drina’s spirit soared. It made her feel giddy, knowing this girl wanted to see her again even after knowing she was a Traveller. Unable to contain her overflowing joy, she replied seductively as possible.
“Goodnight, Hestar.”
Silence followed while Drina stood there. Leaning against the wall behind her, she covered her face with her hands and replayed the intense exchange they had moments before. It was Drina’s first kiss, and she only wanted to do it again. The flavor of Hestar still lingered while Drina licked her lips. Gods, what a good kisser she was. Pushing away from the wall, Drina remembered her fan on the bed. Still reeling from the kiss, she almost forgot it was there.
Stepping forward, she picked up the fan. Looking at the last fold still propped open made Drina’s gut drop. How did she miss this the first time? Well, maybe it was obvious why she was completely distracted, but this was no longer a laughing matter. Clear and bright was Scutum, the constellation for battle and loss. It was a grave omen, a sign of death. Hestar was in danger.
A writing prompt from Reddit: After hardship, they find the truth about what happened -and it’s much more positive than they’d imagine.
Joffrey stood angrily in the opened doorway. Words laced with venom, he growled while his hands shook with rage.
“You…”
Out of all the people he didn’t ever want to see again, there they stood in front of him. On his doorsteps, no less.
Amelia gave a weak smile. She knew just how much he resented her.
“Joffrey, don’t slam the door. Please.”
“You have 10 seconds before I do.”
“I figured you would say that,” Reaching into her satchel bag, Amelia pulled out a manilla folder. “I have something that belongs to you.”
“I don’t want it.”
He began to close the door when Amelia reached forward.
“Wait, please give me a moment of your time! I will explain everything. After that, you can choose to despise me if you want.”
Joffrey’s glare was lethal, but he hesitated. Looking at Amelia’s soft, pained eyes, he had a change of heart. Opening the door wide, he turned to walk into the living room. Amelia sighed with heavy relief, following him in quickly. Leaning over to remove her shoes, he barked at her.
“Keep them on. You’re not staying long.”
Amelia paused, looking up at him for a moment. The pained look in her eyes returned full force as she turned towards the couches. Joffrey had no remorse in his anger toward her. After what she did to him, there was no way he could ever forgive her.
Two years ago he worked in the same company as her. Joffrey had poured his life into his work, and was fired just before his big break. Amelia was his right hand in the project and took his place. The project took off and became a multimillion-marketed product.
To make things worse, she took 100% credit for the work, then patented it before the company could get its greedy hands into the pot. It was unspeakable to swipe it all out from beneath everybody and take all the fortune for herself.
Joffrey sat and watched the war over his creation on the news for two years. It was a scandal that everyone talked about relentlessly. They never mentioned his name during the entire legal battle or when they finally settled it. Amelia got to keep all the rights. Why now did she come to see him after the dust settled? For what? To boast about her thievery? With a sharp tsk, he ground his teeth. He just wanted this over with.
“Make this quick, Amelia.”
Sitting down quietly, Amelia stared at the coffee table vacantly.
“Believe what you want, Joffrey. I never wanted any of this.”
Opening the file, she placed several pieces of documents down before her. Without any further words, she grabbed a pen, clicked it, and held it out in front of her towards Joffrey.
“What’s all this?”
“The rights to the project.”
Her words caught Joffrey off guard. Was she just giving it to him?
“This must be some kind of joke.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
They paused in their stand-off, neither of them moving. Finally, Joffrey took a few steps toward the coffee table. There it was, the actual paperwork to transfer him full ownership. Sitting softly on the couch, he scrunched his face.
“What’s the meaning of all this?”
Amelia placed the pen down on the table before folding her hands on her lap. She sat back and took a deep breath in.
“I never wanted this. I did it because I wanted to save you.”
Joffrey scoffed in disbelief, but before he could retort, Amelia continued.
“They were going to use you, Joffrey. You were their fall guy. The company was about to collapse, and the only way they could save face was to use you as the scapegoat.
“Years ago, I overheard them talking about it. They made some bad investments and decided to say it was for your project. Although, they weren’t expecting it to work out. Once they heard about the successes you had, they got greedy.
“I knew this was happening. So instead of saying anything, I involved my lawyers in secret. We devised a plan to save your reputation from downfall and kept the project for ourselves. The only way we could do that was to get you fired so that they removed your name. Once I took over the project, they nearly destroyed it. I only released a small portion and kept the rest hidden.
“Although, you were brilliant. All the work you put into it was superb, and now that you will have full entitlement to it, you can continue your work unhindered. Along with it, you will have your company and team. I did this all for you.”
Joffrey sat with his jaw open. Looking down at the paperwork, he realized she wasn’t bluffing. On top of that, he was inheriting all the wealth that came along with the company.
“What about you?”
Amelia smiled softly, shaking her head. “This project was never mine. In my hands, it would collapse. You were always the mastermind behind it all. I was just the assistant.”
With that, Amelia stood up and walked towards the door. Joffrey sat dumbfoundedly, watching her head to the door and open it. It was then that he finally noticed. Her clothes looked old, torn, and dirty. Her hair was dark and greasy, like she hadn’t showered in days. Even her shoes were falling apart. He called out to her, standing as he did.
“Amelia…”
She paused, turning to face him with a curious look. It finally sank into Joffrey what was off about her. Her face was sunken in, and her hands were small and bone. She looked malnourished. Had she done everything she could to avoid spending the money she made from his project?
“When was the last time you ate?”
With wide eyes, she scanned the floor to look for an answer. “Oh… well, Uh… I just ate before…”
Joffrey held up his hands to ward off her excuse. He offered a soft smile and a hand towards the kitchen. “Would you mind staying for dinner? The paperwork can wait a while longer.”
The hostel door swung open, followed by a chilly breeze. The owner glanced over from behind her small welcoming desk, smiling brightly at two girls filling the doorway. A tall-looking woman, followed by a younger child dressed in assorted colorful clothing, stepped forward. The child looked worn from her travels and rubbed at her eyes.
The woman turned to close the door, then wrapped her arms around the child protectively before drawing closer to the counter. They took a moment to remove their hoods and adjust their wraps, exposing their black raven hair. Then the owner noticed their brilliant hazel eyes.
Golden flakes surrounded their iris like little sparks of flame dancing from a fire. The woman’s eyes were hard and threatening, but the younger girl was the opposite. Her eyes were big and still full of hope. Were they mother and daughter? The owner’s curiosity perked. They were so young it gave her a sense of nostalgia. It was refreshing to see such youthful spirits walk in through the doors.
“Evening, ladies. What brings you here tonight?”
“Just a bed for my sister and I. Anything will do.” Her voice was melodic yet cold. The distrust was palpable, a tone the owner was well acquainted with. Anyone walking into a hostel late at night had a story to share, regardless of age or appearance. The owner reached for her pen, dabbing it in ink to write into the ledger.
“How many nights will you be staying?”
The lady glanced down at her sister, hesitant. “For a few nights. We’ve traveled a long way and may need some time to recover.”
“Alright. What name shall I put down?”
Absently she replied to the owner. “Drina Forest.”
An alias, the owner thought while writing the name. It was a feeling she had in her gut. Drina reached into her satchel and pulled out a small coin pouch. After taking the payment, the owner smiled warmly and led them down the right side hall.
The small hall turned left into a larger room lined with rows of bunks beds. Storage chests fitted every bed for the top and bottom, equipped with a lock. The owner led them to the farthest bunk in the corner and took a large ring of keys in her pocket. Jingling the keys, she removed the matching key and handed it to the eldest sister.
“Take the top. I hope it will give you comfort and safety.”
Drina relaxed, offering a small relieved smile. She assisted her sister into the bed to sleep as the owner turned. Drina called softly out to her before she left.
“Um.. sorry, what was your name, ma’am?”
“Luludja, but please call me Lulu.”
Drina nodded, nervously brushing her loose raven hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Lulu.”
With a nod and soft chuckle, Lulu turned to leave Drina with her sister. The room was quiet, with occasional grunts as renters shuffled in their sleep. Drina twirled the key in her hand a bit, contemplating the chest. Thieft was limited in such establishments, but she couldn’t relent her mistrust. Instead, she pocketed the key and joined her sister.
Leaning against the wall, Drina gently guided her sister to cuddle beside her comfortably. Carefully removing her satchel, she rummaged through it to remove a fan.
“Lana,” Drina stiffened at the sound of her name and glanced down at her sleepy sister. “Will we stay a while? For real this time? I’m tired of constantly walking.”
“Ocian, please! Call me Drina while we are in towns or cities. Also, speak in common, not our native tongue.” Drina brushed her sister’s hair off her face and shoulders, scanning the room with worry.
“I know you are tired, but we must keep moving. We’re not safe, even here.”
“Do I really need to go by that name?”
Her voice was groggy and barely audible while she fought to stay awake. Tenderly, Drina continued stroking her head and sighed heavily. After all the lectures, Jeta still had much to learn. A name was a deadly thing to give away, especially for a Gypsy. Power was tied to names and bloodlines. With one wrong step, Drina knew the consequences awaiting them.
Ocian’s power hibernated within. Drina, on the other hand, was not. She could see and speak with ghosts. It took considerable concentration to conceal and lock away her gift. Drained each day, it was to keep them safe. Drina couldn’t risk exposing them and getting caught by the wrong people. She could only instruct Ocian to control her emotions and learn their teachings when her power awakened. Even now, Ocian was sensitive to Drina’s energy. Another reason to contain it.
“Yes. I promise there’s a reason. Now go to sleep.”
It didn’t take her much convincing before Ocian fully drifted off. Drina sighed heavily. Now if only she could follow suit. Sleeping in hostels always made Drina anxious. It wasn’t enough to drop her guard, even with a few empty beds around them and a good view. Being constantly alert took a toll on her, especially while suppressing her power. She preferred the wild and its dangers. There wasn’t a need to contain her power with nothing but trees and wildlife.
Though, for some reason, it didn’t take much effort to relax here. Something about the aura in the hostel gave off a sense of peace, like light waves that passed over her. It lulled her in a silent song, vibrations of peace that resonated with her spirit.
The brief tranquility didn’t last long. Several footsteps echoed through the room from the hallway. She tensed, shaking off the enchanting spell to watch other guests enter the room. Several people looked like they had been partying in the nearby pubs, while others slumped in while carrying traveling gear. It was odd how quiet and respectful the guests were while making their way to their beds. Usually, hostels would get loud and rowdy with the drunkards. Drina readjusted herself to observe the door better, careful not to disturb Ocian while she slept.
Nervously, she began to fiddle with her fan. It was long with a black wooden guard carved with intricate vines and roses. The fan folds were decorated with constellations, each sign drawn with brightly burning stars in and around them. A small chain of little beads dangled from the base of the fan. At the end was a larger gem carved into an intricate rose in bloom.
It was her mother’s heirloom, a tool given to each girl in her bloodline. Since finding the fan, it became a source of comfort. Unable to uncover the truth behind her mother’s death, she couldn’t trust anyone. With constant fear and deceit around her, it was the reason they fled to escape Castromnia.
Closing her eyes briefly, Drina poured her thoughts into the fan and took a deep breath. She needed to clear her mind and focus. Slowly rolling her fingers over the folds, she waited for the tingles of energy to prickle against her skin. The sensation would trigger her reaction to flick it open flawlessly, a well-practiced skill she’d developed over years. Several whispers call out at her in a slur by the third fold. Drina paused with concern, hovering her hand near the unopened panel. Was it coming from the fan? Opening her eyes, she honed in on the source. It was coming from the entrance.
There in the frame, a woman appeared from around the corner. She wore light white clothing wrapped with a dark sash around her hip and torso. Her blond hair shimmered in the dim light when she entered the room. Her deep violet eyes sparkled like the night sky and connected with Drina’s. It felt like time moved slowly, every second lingering for minutes.
The pit of Drina’s stomach flipped. Emotions began to stir, and her control slipped. Whispers to grew louder, this time bouncing from all around her. Entranced, she couldn’t stop watching. The woman smirked devilishly back, holding her gaze while moving through the room.
Drina dropped her attention back to her fan to recover. Her heart was pounding frantically. Regaining her focus, the image on the second panel of the fan finally registered. Cygnus, the swan of grace, beauty, and romance, was in the dead center of the slip open. Drina’s jaw dropped.
Snapping her fan closed, she rested the tip of the fan to her lips. Maybe reading a fortune with strangers present was a mistake. Opening the fan fully, she studied the rest of the constellations. Stars flickered across the dark purple fabric, some brighter than others to represent the present influencing energies. Images of animals and figures shifted and moved while small cloud particles gently floated along an invisible breeze. Though the fan was not alive, the magic embedded into it would suggest otherwise.
Glaring at the swan, Drina clicked her tongue. Why did it have to be Cygnus out of all of them? It flapped its wings elegantly, turning its head towards her as if to gloat. Not a single cloud covered the panel, and its stars shone brighter than any other. Sneaking a second glance, the woman stood at her bunk with her chest open.
Drina absently fanned herself, biting at her lip. The voices were no longer whispers and the air grew icy around her. It wasn’t until she could see her breath that she realized how much power she was leaking. Drina snapped her head at Ocian to check if she was still sleeping. Thankfully the cold didn’t wake her. Collapsing her fan against her leg, Drina rubbed at her temple. She needed to calm down. Indulging in a fling was a terrible idea, no matter how tempting. Before Drina could gain control, the voices stopped at once. The abrupt change was almost disorienting.
“Hey, sorry to bother you. I just couldn’t help noticing you when I got in.”
Drina’s heart skipped from the sweet alluring voice. There, by the food of the bunk bed, stood the women. Her beauty was even more magnificent up close; it took Drina’s breath away.
“Oh.. sorry, I thought you were alone.” The woman’s smile deflated a bit after noticing Ocian beside her.
In a hushed whisper, Drina tried not to panic. “No, it’s alright. It’s my sister. We had a long journey today, and she passed right out.”
The smile returned more significant, and the woman took a step closer.
“I see, where from?”
Drina nervously spun her fan around in her hands. How was she going to answer her? Castromnia was a large country with five regions: Ellstria in the south, Scion in the northwest, Bablalion northeast, Vercian east between Bablalion and Ellstria, and Gasfriac in the center. Drina was from the southwest borders of Scion, a place hated because of the tyrant king. He started a war with Gasfriac and divided the entire country. Many refugees were flocking into the neighboring areas, often unwelcome and distrusted. It was worse for Gypsies; no one welcomed a gypsy, refugee or not.
“We came from West Vercian, near the lakes of Laruia.”
Drina smiled dimly—another lie she would have to bear. The woman brightened, trailing her hand along the side of the bed frame and toward Drina’s knee. Shivers shot throughout Drina the moment her hand connected with her skin.
“Vercian! That’s quite the trip. What brought you here to Ellstria?”
Tiny ghosts orbs began to float around them. Drina swallowed hard. It was impossible to calm down with this seductive dish before her. The wandering hand went under the slit of Drina’s skirt from her knee up her thigh. Unable to concentrate, Drina’s eyes drifted from her face down her neckline to her cleavage. Flicking her eyes up to the woman’s, she cleared her throat.
“I hear the sights are spectacular.”
With a chuckle, the woman withdrew her hand to grab the ledge. Stepping on the bottom bunk, she lifted herself, bringing her face inches from Drina’s. Sandalwood engulfed her senses while staring deep into the violet abyss. The woman tilted her head and bit the corner of her lip.
“Hestar.”
“D-Drina.”
“Nice to meet you, Drina.”
Swallowing hard, Drina knew she was in trouble.
Thank you for reading Chapter 1! If you want to support the Turnip Patch, don’t forget to donate or join the Raga Squad. See you next update!
I was at university last year, and I’ve returned! It was a grueling year; lots happened, and I was unable to keep up with was at university for the past year editing and writing. But now, with the summer, I’ve been working hard, creating new ideas and changing old ones. I took a writing class, and it was incredible. I learned much about my writing and got amazing feedback from my peers and teacher. Looking at my writing now, I realize I have grown a lot and decided this can’t do!
I’m unsure when I can return to regular biweekly postings, but I have a new goal. With feedback from my classes and comments on WordPress, I’m rewriting my ongoing stories. I’ll be releasing them as new, and one of the biggest changes I’ve stuck to is not limiting my word count. I initially aimed for 1500-2000 words per chapter, but I was cutting corners in my story to meet these goals. This sacrificed a lot of details and left out a lot of opportunities.
I don’t want to do that anymore! I will still do specific writing challenges to improve my writing and encourage me to create a fantastic story for everyone to read. Like the “Don’t say the word” challenge or doing word prompts. These won’t be perfect, and I do my best to self-edit because these stories aren’t for profit. These are my creative outlet and my passion for writing.
Another thing I’m working on is a way to create a community of people who also want to read stories and improve their own writing. In my writing class, I had an amazing time reading my peer’s work and giving feedback on their writing. Seeing my mistakes while editing other people’s works was incredible, and I learned a lot from it. So if anyone is looking for feedback or useful criticism to help improve your stories, please get in touch with me!
I’m not a professional by any means, and I’m not asking for payments. This is just purely to offer opinions and give examples that could be beneficial. I won’t be editing every page of your books, or every chapter. If there are reoccurring issues, there isn’t a point to continue to every page and keep pointing it out. I also won’t help edit for publication purposes. This is just for peer support and to get valid input, which is something I always wished for when posting my stories. You can get more details when you reach out to me.
Thank you, everyone for the support and patience throughout this journey of mine. I appreciate those who have read my works and continue into the future. I can only hope one day that I can publish something officially and make my Turnip Patch a real dream come true!
Look out for the new release chapters of Whispering Death!
An original idea crafted into a short story. Nothing super crazy, just trying to express feeling and emotion through my words.
-Turan
The air hurts to breathe in. I struggle to focus on anything around me while walking home from work. My boss yelled at me again; saying something on the lines of “having a terrible work ethic.” Unbelievable.
I have been slaving away each day, picking up his and everyone else’s slack. Each grueling day, I come in early and leave late, all so that I can get a little bit of extra cash. For what? To be suspended for a week with no pay? What did I even do wrong? I have done everything in my power to make sure numbers match with inventory, the cash drops are accurate, and everything is signed on the dotting lines.
I even chase after others who haven’t filled out the correct forms, even though it’s not my job! I bend backward for this company! I just wanted a little recognization for the hard work I do. Maybe even a small raise or bonus.
It doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t change the outcome. I try to keep myself from crying on my way to the apartment building complex. It’s old, run-down, and barely holding itself together with plaster patchwork. I make my way up the mildewy stairs, covering my mouth to pass the same mold-covered wall.
I keep to myself, making my way down the hall, spotting my neighbor’s flat door wide open; it was ransacked again. Who knows when the next time will be mine?
I sigh and begin to unlock the several keyed deadbolts, the sounds of chains clattering and metal grinding as I open the door. I even give it a hefty shove to close it snugly before shutting the locks tightly behind me. For what little protection it offers me, I feel just a little safer.
Dragging my feet behind me, I strip off my shoes, coat, and uniform. I grab my blanket off my couch and bundle myself up tightly and plunk down on the cushions to stare at the water-stained walls. The room is dark and smells. The neighbor must be smoking drugs again. The holes from the pipes always seeped through no matter how much I stuff it full of cloth.
My lungs hurt, not from the smoke or the mildew. I can’t breathe. Sitting up I walk to my counter full of pink papers and red stamped envelopes. Holding my blanket tightly as if it will shield me from the world I head to the kitchen instead.
I open the empty fridge, hoping the food fairy would bless me with a treat, only to be disappointed in the spacious void. What am I going to do? The pressure on my chest sunk in hard. I fell to my knees, clutching at my chest.
I can barely stay afloat in the swirling debt that floods my home. There is no escaping the suffocating amount; no matter how much I lock my doors or plug in the faulty installation. I am ever bathing in the financial burden that never releases its tight grip around my throat. I’m drowning in it. For once, I wish I could swim.
Turnip Patch 