A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.
Tuesday, May 7, 2024
Page 3582
It was unsettling, to be sure. But also, admittedly, exciting. A mixture of hope and dread. Like he was watching history take shape before his very eyes, every single day.
And increasingly, he questioned his role in things here. A year ago, he and Voreese had been laying their long-visioned plans for building up a new faction of their own. Something that, according to her, would take a century or more before it began to bear any real fruit.
But now, it seemed as though they had been sucked into something entirely different. Voreese, for her part, seemed to have all but forgotten about her previous plan--not that there was any sense of urgency with it, of course. They could always circle back around to it later, Roman supposed.
Assuming they lived that long, of course. Which was kind of the sticking point here.
Their plan, more or less, had been to lay relatively low and accumulate strength, resources, and powerful allies over time. Now, whatever this current plan was--if it could even be called a plan--it seemed to have thrown that first part out the window.
Laying low? Who cared about that?
Sure, Hector and Garovel both came across reasonable enough when they spoke about plans and how to handle whatever the emergent situation at the time was.
But their actions... those told a somewhat different story, Roman felt.
They were just going to keep throwing themselves right into the thick of things, weren’t they? He thought maybe that wouldn’t be the case when they decided to stay here at Warrenhold and not venture off to Vantalay, especially since they’d had multiple motivating opportunities to, but this latest business with Banda Toro had now convinced Roman that Hector was indeed the maniac that he’d been fearing he was.
Damn it all. Roman felt like a dumbass. Why’d he have to go and become friends with a guy like that, huh? Especially right before a gigantic war broke out? Talk about bad timing.
The worst part, though, was that not many other people around Hector seemed to be seeing things the way Roman did. All these reapers and Rainlords. They were ready to do whatever Hector told them. As if he’d been their lord for years, already.
Which meant that, as his friend, Roman had a greater responsibility to not become a yes-man.
To keep his friend balanced.
Where the future of this country was concerned, Roman wasn’t sure there was any more important task than that.
And increasingly, he questioned his role in things here. A year ago, he and Voreese had been laying their long-visioned plans for building up a new faction of their own. Something that, according to her, would take a century or more before it began to bear any real fruit.
But now, it seemed as though they had been sucked into something entirely different. Voreese, for her part, seemed to have all but forgotten about her previous plan--not that there was any sense of urgency with it, of course. They could always circle back around to it later, Roman supposed.
Assuming they lived that long, of course. Which was kind of the sticking point here.
Their plan, more or less, had been to lay relatively low and accumulate strength, resources, and powerful allies over time. Now, whatever this current plan was--if it could even be called a plan--it seemed to have thrown that first part out the window.
Laying low? Who cared about that?
Sure, Hector and Garovel both came across reasonable enough when they spoke about plans and how to handle whatever the emergent situation at the time was.
But their actions... those told a somewhat different story, Roman felt.
They were just going to keep throwing themselves right into the thick of things, weren’t they? He thought maybe that wouldn’t be the case when they decided to stay here at Warrenhold and not venture off to Vantalay, especially since they’d had multiple motivating opportunities to, but this latest business with Banda Toro had now convinced Roman that Hector was indeed the maniac that he’d been fearing he was.
Damn it all. Roman felt like a dumbass. Why’d he have to go and become friends with a guy like that, huh? Especially right before a gigantic war broke out? Talk about bad timing.
The worst part, though, was that not many other people around Hector seemed to be seeing things the way Roman did. All these reapers and Rainlords. They were ready to do whatever Hector told them. As if he’d been their lord for years, already.
Which meant that, as his friend, Roman had a greater responsibility to not become a yes-man.
To keep his friend balanced.
Where the future of this country was concerned, Roman wasn’t sure there was any more important task than that.
Monday, May 6, 2024
Page 3581 -- CCXCVII.
Germal just laughed.
Which only incensed Morgunov further.
But there was no point in voicing it. He hated losing control of his emotions like that and was already regretting it.
No. He was just going to follow through with his promises. And await the day when this smug creature was finally laid low. How thoroughly satisfying that was going to be.
“You’ve fallen silent again,” observed the Liar. “Has our game come to an abrupt end? If so, then ‘tis a shame. Strange as it may sound, I would say that you have indeed answered to my satisfaction. Kehehe. And so it is now your turn, my friend.”
What a piece of shit. In this moment, Morgunov was not sure he had ever hated anyone so much. Anyone--or anything, even.
A disturbance arrived, however, causing sudden havoc with Morgunov’s perception of this empty headspace that they were both trapped in. What in the world was that?
“Ah!” came a new voice. “There you both are! Finally!”
Who was that? Morgunov needed a second to--
“Master?” said Germal.
And Morgunov realized. “Gohvis? How did you find us?”
The Monster of the East ignored both their queries. “What are you two idiots doing? Having a nice chat in some kind of liminal space? How cozy. Meanwhile, I’m trying to prevent a feldeath of darkness from atomizing the pair of you.”
“Oh, the fight’s still going?” said Morgunov. “We thought time was simply moving differently for us in here.”
“It is,” said Gohvis. “I can sense the time dilation. But multiple minutes have still transpired for me outside. Do you realize how long that feels, right now?”
“Ah.”
“Oh.”
“Have you at least managed to talk through your disagreements?” said Gohvis. “This entire fight is pointless. We are all on the same side.”
“If you actually believe that,” said Morgunov, “then Germal’s fooled you even more thoroughly than I thought.”
“Master, please stop interfering. This matter has nothing to do with you.”
“I hate you both so much.”
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Seven: ‘How Fire perceives Steel...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Warrenhold sure was feeling different, lately. And not just because of the restoration efforts, Roman felt. There was something more. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Something to do with Hector.
This place. What exactly was it transforming into, he wondered? A place of safety? Refuge for all who needed it? Or an indomitable fortress? A headquarters from which an empire would be built?
Could all of those things be possible simultaneously?
Voreese seemed to think so.
Which only incensed Morgunov further.
But there was no point in voicing it. He hated losing control of his emotions like that and was already regretting it.
No. He was just going to follow through with his promises. And await the day when this smug creature was finally laid low. How thoroughly satisfying that was going to be.
“You’ve fallen silent again,” observed the Liar. “Has our game come to an abrupt end? If so, then ‘tis a shame. Strange as it may sound, I would say that you have indeed answered to my satisfaction. Kehehe. And so it is now your turn, my friend.”
What a piece of shit. In this moment, Morgunov was not sure he had ever hated anyone so much. Anyone--or anything, even.
A disturbance arrived, however, causing sudden havoc with Morgunov’s perception of this empty headspace that they were both trapped in. What in the world was that?
“Ah!” came a new voice. “There you both are! Finally!”
Who was that? Morgunov needed a second to--
“Master?” said Germal.
And Morgunov realized. “Gohvis? How did you find us?”
The Monster of the East ignored both their queries. “What are you two idiots doing? Having a nice chat in some kind of liminal space? How cozy. Meanwhile, I’m trying to prevent a feldeath of darkness from atomizing the pair of you.”
“Oh, the fight’s still going?” said Morgunov. “We thought time was simply moving differently for us in here.”
“It is,” said Gohvis. “I can sense the time dilation. But multiple minutes have still transpired for me outside. Do you realize how long that feels, right now?”
“Ah.”
“Oh.”
“Have you at least managed to talk through your disagreements?” said Gohvis. “This entire fight is pointless. We are all on the same side.”
“If you actually believe that,” said Morgunov, “then Germal’s fooled you even more thoroughly than I thought.”
“Master, please stop interfering. This matter has nothing to do with you.”
“I hate you both so much.”
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Seven: ‘How Fire perceives Steel...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Warrenhold sure was feeling different, lately. And not just because of the restoration efforts, Roman felt. There was something more. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Something to do with Hector.
This place. What exactly was it transforming into, he wondered? A place of safety? Refuge for all who needed it? Or an indomitable fortress? A headquarters from which an empire would be built?
Could all of those things be possible simultaneously?
Voreese seemed to think so.
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