[Other Original] Various Short Stories and Flash Fiction (The Pastel Notebook)

[PastelPhoenix]

I've done a fair amount of prompt inspired short stories and flash fiction in the past. Some of these are older ones I enjoyed writing, and a few will likely be new ones I may not be as fond of. Hopefully you enjoy them.

Vindaren:

Spoiler:

Original Prompt: Image Based

Spoiler:

[FONT=&quot]The great gates stood before him, the last barrier before his entrance into the Grand City state of Vindaren. After a small rapt of his knuckles to the door, a small slide opened, revealing the murky brown eyes of one of the city guard.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Business?" A curt reply came from the other side of the massive, etched steel of the door.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Scrapper coming in with news and supplies. I have a permit," The young man said, holding up a small, official looking document. "Luceres Pierremons, I was granted an expedition to the north, in the old Changallese ruins."[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]After the eyes on the other side of the wall scanned his paper for a few moments, he received a rough grunt of approval and was furthermore greeted by the sound of whirring mechanisms. The gate opened surprisingly quickly for a solid piece of metal its size, and once the gate opened the sounds of the busy city streets began to flood through. The vast metropolis of concrete and steel buildings stood in stark contrast to the conservative wooden buildings of the wall towns formed by those who supplied the city, but were not fortunate enough to secure a spot inside. The guard ushered him in before calling for a few other guards, all dressed in the same dull yellow uniforms of all city officials, lightly armored for their day to day jobs.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Any weapons on your person and potential stock you wish to declare, in particular any items relating to spirits of the machines or Verchoss parts?" The guard repeated the same tired speech he likely gave thousands of times, eyeing the pistol on Luceres' hip and the gauntlet on his wrist.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]It was always better for business to be honest, of course. Sitting at the guard post for hours until every minute detail could be recorded would likely hurt his first day sales, not to mention hurt his reputation in the eyes of the city-state and make them less likely to work with him in the future.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"The gun is an energy pistol, no modifications, and it needs a new rounding chamber. The Task-Master does have a spirit on it, but she's resting right now. She's my assistant."[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The guard only nodded and made a few marks on his paper. Should he had been rude, it was likely that the guard could be assed to actual inspect if the claims were true, but after the other guards reported there was nothing suspicious about the cargo he was waved though.[/FONT]

---------------

[FONT=&quot]"Luceres!" A loud, joyous shout echoed from the back of the packed, dusty store. "Back from scrapping already, eh? How'd the ruins treat ya?"[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Jacquer was a large man, both in height and belly, making him seem more like a merchant or a forge-man than a priest. He ran a small book store that also functioned as a repair shop for various holy objects out of his home. Although he may not have seemed like it, those who knew the man also knew how much of a savant he was in the art of repairing these objects, often supplementing his meager store income with large rewards from repairing various parts of the city's mechanisms, both infrastructure and security related.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Strong arms squeezed Luceres once his old friend reached him, lifting him off the ground in a large bear hug, and prickly hairs brushed the young man's cheek from the permanent 5 o clock shadow adorning Jaquer's face along with his bushy mustache.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Your tip paid off Jaq," Luceres said once he was free from the hug, "The place was a gold mine, all kinds of artifacts and not a single Verchoss to be seen."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Wonderful! I knew the season was right, no Verchoss would even be awake during this time of year. And how are you doin', little Mercha? Hopefully Luc here isn't runnin' you too hard?"[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The little screen on the gauntlet lit up, revealing the image of pale girl with red hair, Mercha.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"I'm doing very fine myself, Jaq." A woman's voice spoke, coming from the speakers on the gauntlet. "The recycler you installed is running excellently. My hardware is running much cooler, and energy consumption has reached a low this system hasn't recorded in years. I haven't overheated once since the install, and Luceres hasn't had to choose between powering his gun or me in quite some time."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Great news!" The pride was evident from Jaq's face, practically beaming at the statement. "Now, what brings you two here so early? Normally you'd hit the market before its dark, and that cart of yours seems full."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Well Jaq," Luceres began, reaching into his pocket. "I think I have something you might like."[/FONT]

-------------------

[FONT=&quot]The hours passed in the little shop's back room, the cart now safely stored around back. Pieces of the broken gauntlet lie scattered across the table, with both human and spirit watching the large man carefully move the ancient components into a new casing. A few screws later and the majority of the parts were secured inside the new home.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Let's give her some power here. See if the spirit is still able to be awoken."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The priest slowly attached some wires to the corresponding slots on the gauntlet. Normally this was a simple task, but who knows how long the gauntlet had been in the ruins. If he wasn't careful he could end up damaging the spirit inside, and then the gauntlet was just worth scrap at that point.[/FONT][FONT=&quot][FONT=&quot] [/FONT]After the wires were in their perspective ports, he flipped a small switch and a brief moment of silence filled the room. A pale blue light flicked onto the screen, along with the typical Task-Master start up sequence. With baited breath, the entire room watched as various bars filled, until finally the screen darkened once more. An audible sound of relief could be heard from everyone, including Mercha, as the darkness was soon replaced by the image of a young, dark haired man.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Now comes the tricky part. We have to match him with another spirit so he can understand our language."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Luceres knew the only spirit capable of this currently would be Mercha. Although it worried him for her safety, hooking her up to an unknown gauntlet, a discovery like this may be worth the risk.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Mer, change to protection mode, I'm going to plug you in."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Understood, preparing myself for possibility of corrupted data... I'm ready when you are."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]With her approval he flipped open the casing protecting her connection wire. He slowly pulled it out and attached it to the port of the other gauntlet, making connection between the two spirits.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"I'm connected. Transferring my comprehensive knowledge of post singularity language, current events, and other relative data.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Several bars appeared on both screens, one slowly draining from Luceres' and the other slowly filling on the ruined gauntlet. After a few minutes the transaction seemed complete.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Finished, he should have to force a restart of his system, but after that we'll see if he can initialize the data properly. No major sub-systems seemed corrupt, and no data was transferred from him to me."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Luceres chest felt a thousand times lighter with those words alone.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Good job, I knew you could do it."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"It was trivial for a system such as myself." She responded, her smile full of pride on the display.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Hey you two, it's coming back up!"[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The screen continued to flicker a few times before reaching the normal boot screen they have come to expect. Finally the screen stayed on and the same man's face appeared on screen.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"Good evening, I am the system in charge of this Task-Master. Although according to the new data I have received, the word "Spirit" seems like the best match in your language. How may I assist today?"[/FONT]

 

[PastelPhoenix]

Part of the world I call Novana, which I will probably write multiple stories in (hopefully).

Auric 1

Spoiler:

The pale moonlight shone through Jorric Auric's window, casting everything outside of his lantern's reach with a soft luminescence. Despite it being so late in the night, he felt completely energized and was working away at the financial reports in front of him. He was able to complete them at a break-neck pace due to how well everything was documented, his family taking utmost pride in proper reporting of all expenses. Above all, everyone was already asleep, leaving him alone in the quiet of night with his own thoughts.

At least, that how he wished it was. His lack of sleep was only exacerbated by the faulty oil feed on his lamp making the words on the papers in front of him nearly illegible, and hours of this work has produced perhaps the biggest headache he has ever experienced. Not that actually being able to read them would help, numbers didn't add up, and charges appeared out of no where with vague descriptions of where the funds actually went, if there was a description at all. As each hour passed he doubted his House's ability to actually do basic addition or fill out forms. Worst of all, the little solace he could find the in the silence had just been stripped away from him by his sister shoving open his study door, nearly knocking over a bookcase in the process. She proceeded to storm her way towards her desk and slam her hands atop it, scattering a few pages he needed to the floor.

"The old man is drunk again and headed this way." She shouted at a voice level entirely inappropriate for this time of night. "Find a way to deal with him because I can't take it anymore."

"Hello Jenna nice to see you too." He put on his most fake smile and addressed her, ignoring her wasn't going to get his work done any faster. "I'm fine myself, thanks for asking. And what is he on about this time?"

"Same thing he's always on about, the other houses. Gods, he's here now."

Sure enough the figure of his father appeared in the door frame. Although he looked more presentable than most of his drunken rage sessions, he still leaned on the door frame for support. If he was able to drive Jenna away from his drunken ramblings, he must be much worse than he looked, however.

"Do you know what happened!?" His father drunkenly shouted into the room. Jenna moved off to the side of the room, obviously wanting no part of the conversation that was about to occur.

"Everyone in this castle suddenly lost the ability to knock?"

"The damned Galvinars want to send us back into war with the Faceless!" His father continued, almost cutting off Jorric. "They announced they want to take back the blighted lands!"

Jorric was too tired to show his surprise. This was interesting coming from house Galvinar, the Noble Republic's elections weren't until next year, none of the houses expected a policy announcement this early. Epecially an announcement of this caliber coming from the house who currently had the chair of High Prince, they must have gotten results showing their popularity fading and needed the votes from the Nymarillian houses.

"Makes sense," Jorric started once he had a moment to process everything, "The Watch reports that faceless aggression has died down greatly. Additionally, Nymarille is one of the three largest islands, and we can't even use half of it. What position did House Silvais take?"

"You know those snakes, they took the opposite position. They'd never side with a Galvinar. Say the mainland is a bigger threat than the Faceless, although they wish they had decided on attacking the Faceless first."

Made sense, he thought to himself. The two were bitter enemies. This was sure to be an interesting election, and he's have to keep an eye on the two houses. House Auric possessed no loyalties to either Galvinar or Silvais, and although his father would never support a Silvaian rule, House Auric did say they would never support an offensive war with the Faceless. The last failed offense lead to the near destruction of the Auran army from bad orders from the then High Prince.

"So support House Silvais then." Jorric responded, suppressing a sigh. As interesting as this conversation would likely be, he had so much work before bed, and his conversation partner was drunk and upset.

"And lead us even further towards a dictatorship?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jenna roll her eyes at her father's response. "Wasn't that why we broke off from the mainland all those centuries ago?"

"Then support House Galvinar if you hate Silvais then."

"And start a war we can't win." His father shouted in actual rage this time. Jorric regretted even saying it, his father was a veteran of the Faceless wars and the reason House Auric took such a strong stance against unnecessarily provoking the Faceless. "You don't know what they're like, and I hope you never have to find out. I know I've said it before, but there is a reason our Gods have abandoned us, and the fact we allowed them here is that reason."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just tired is all, I didn't mean to make it sound like I want to fight them. But what do you suggest we do then."

For the first time it seemed like his father had no response. He'd almost think his father had passed out standing up if it wasn't for the fact his father was fidgeting his hands, an old habit for when he was deep in thought. An uncomfortable few minutes passed as Jorric began to pick up the loose papers, swearing silently to himself when he saw Jenna standing on one of them, when all of a sudden his father appeared to hatch an idea.

"We'll run for High Prince ourselves!"

Both his and Jenna's jaw dropped at the announcement. House Auric hasn't been a contender for the throne in many, many years. A sudden announcement like that would be on par with Galvinar's announcement.

"Sorry father, but you've got way more enemies than friends." Jenna spoke up for the first time, seeming to forget she initially wanted no part in this. "We'd be a laughing stock. None of the other houses would support us."

"I know that girl! I'm not going to be the one running."

"Javis is a an idiot and an asshole to boot." Jorric spoke up, shuddering at a house lead by his brother would turn out. "He'd get even less votes than you would."

"Bah," his father spat, "your brother couldn't negotiate his way out of sack. I'm talking about you leading the house."

Okay, now this announcement would probably overtake Galvinar in oddness. Not only was old Aster Auric announcing his retirement as head of the house, he's giving it to his second born son rather than his first. While Jorric processed this information, Jenna spoke up.

"As much as I support Jorric over Javis, we still would have no support. Galvinar and Silvais are giants compared to us."

"We're the oldest out of the 12 Nobles, not to mention that if you count the branch houses we're one of the largest."

The options spun through Jorric's head. To be honest, there was many times when he wished he was the Prince of his house so he could whip them into shape. This was his chance to stop his family from nearly collapsing yet again. But does he even have a chance to win?

"Branch families are nice and all, but they don't have any votes!" Jenna protested. "The main house has four votes: you, me, Jorric, and Javis. We could potentially swing favor to one of the houses if we all vote together, but if we run we lose all of them!"

Wait... losing the vote. An idea was starting to form in Jorric's mind.

"I know that!" His father yelled back. By now people were starting to gather to see what all the fuss is about. "But doing anything else is just choosing how we die!"

"I've got it!" Jorric shouted out, startling both his sister and father, who seems to have forgotten he was there. "We might be able to win."

"Oh not you too..."

"No, seriously. I have a plan."

"Well, Out with it!" he father demanded.

"Galvinar and Silvais have no votes since they would be running."

"Glad you figured out how the basics of your own country work." Jenna snarked. "But we still can't sway any of the houses."

"If you wouldn't have interrupted me, I would get to that. Houses aren't required to have all of their own votes go to the same house, it's just that they almost always do. We don't have to persuade the whole house, we just need their votes."

For a moment the two seemed confused, then it seemed to hit them at the same time.

"I have a lot of friends in several houses", he continued, "and many of them have their own spots on their houses voting councils. We can win them over and try to appeal to the people voting as individuals, not as a single house. Find those like us, who hate both Galvinar and Silvais, and convince them to vote for us."

"I think you're on to something..." His father said, seemingly sobered up.

Before he could continue on, a sudden wave of sleepiness hit Jorric again. He was in no condition to make a proper plan.

"It's way too late." He said, starting to shoo them out. "We have a lot to discuss tomorrow, but Javis isn't here to approve the plan and I'm no no shape to continue."

With his family finally gone, he took one last look at the room, taking everything in once more. His eyes fell on the incomplete forms, including the one with the footprint, but he just couldn't find the will to continue tonight. There was too much going on now to even focus on it. With a yawn he turned off the lantern and left his study, trekking down the hall to his room. Not even bothering to change, he fell into his bed and was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

 

[PastelPhoenix]

I should probably mention I'm doing the writing sprint, and I don't actually post nearly this fast normally. Sorry if it seems like a little spammy currently.

The Cursed 1 (Novana)

Spoiler:

Our house is falling into ruin. Our coffers lie empty, our crops wither, any allies we once had have begun to turn their back on us, and worst of all it seems that the debtors may take everything. We've tried to deny and fight it, but we cannot any longer, this curse will break us. If only we had never found that old Immatrium idol, our greed lead us into corruption and sin. Although it pains me to day this, especially seeing as how we fought so hard to keep you from falling into the same political game we have, we cannot last much longer. The only way to find forgiveness and lift this curse on our house is to retrieve a piece of the old tower itself and destroy it in front of the Gods. You are the only one who can do this, the only one who could survive a trip into the blight. Please forgive me for this.

Naccis read over the letter one last time, folding it and placing it in his shirt pocket again. It had been about a week since he received the letter from his father begging him for help, and at first he almost couldn't believe it was real. Last he saw of his family they had been hanging on just fine, but then again when was the last time he had even been on the same island as them? It was pretty well understood even when he was young that he wasn't going to be an active figure of House Valket, he had plenty of siblings for that. He went on as a soldier, not a diplomat or politician. His accident only helped distance himself more from his family, once he nearly died once it was decided he should work with the other houses they called allies, not leading his own house's troops.

A sudden wave rocked the rickety little boat he managed to procure for passage to Nymarille. Many captains refused to sail there, even to the safe areas, and this dirty old fishing boat was the best he could find on such short notice. Another strong wave sent an equally strong wave of nausea through him, likely helped by the contents of the letter itself. Was it true that they were losing all their allies? House politics were serious and apparently full of backstabbing, even among branch families like Valket, but would they abandon an old ally of any perceived weakness? The thought that some of the people he worked with just a few weeks prior suddenly voting to abandon his house as soon as he left sat uneasy in his stomach.

A sudden rapt at his door snapped him out of his self-reflection, and the captain transporting him stepped inside.

"We're set to make port in Nymarille soon." The rapidly balding man stated. "May want to grab your stuff and head up."

"Be up in a moment." Naccis replied curtly. Seeming satisfied, the captain took his leave and closed the door behind him.

Once the man had left, Naccis pulled out his old army pack and began to load it up. He didn't want the captain to know just what he was carrying, as a safety precaution. He made sure all of his shards were in the bottom of his pack where they couldn't be picked out easily and then covered them with his clothes. The last thing he placed in the pack was his journal before he swung it over his shoulder. The last thing he needed to grab before he left the room was just under his bed, reaching down he pulled out a finely decorated sword and affixed it to his waist.

Right before he left he noticed a small hole in the back of his left glove. He had no idea when it appeared, but by now they must have known. He stripped off the gloves feeling like an idiot, exposing the dull metal of his left hand. After securing the gloves in his pack, he left his small rented room and walked to the deck.

There the captain stood at the front of the ship, gazing at the landmass Naccis assumed was Nymarille. The captain looked once over, taking note of the the sword and hand before returning his gaze to the island.

"Finally 'cided to ditch the gloves I see." The aged sailor finally said, not removing his gaze from the rolling waves.

"No need to hide it anymore," Naccis responded, "you've already probably seen it through the hole."

"Well, I'd worry more 'bout the sword. I don't know very many people who'd be able to steal a man's own hand off of 'im. Well… assumin' it's just your hand, that is."

Naccis chuckled to himself and rolled up his sleeve. "Entire arm actually."

The captain looked at the extent of the prosthetic and let loose a low whistle. "Can't have been cheap. I can't tell what costs more, the arm or the sword now."

"Definitely the arm, cost nearly every shard my house owned to have it forged." Naccis reminisce, slowly clenching and unclenching the metal fingers. "Most smiths won't touch anything Immatrium related, even if it's already been processed to Magesteel."

"Buncha superstitious idiots. Immatrium ain't cursed 'less it's from the Blighted lands itself, and then if you smelt it into Magestee, it kills the curse."

"That's what we told them. Even still they don't want to touch it."

The docks were now completely visible on the shoreline, and from above a shout told them that they were being waved into the port. The captain excused himself from the conversation and began shouting his orders to the crew.

Soon they were completely docked and Naccis followed the captain to the docks, handing over the rest of the payment once he fully exited the ship. As he started to walk away one last question sprung to his mind.

"Which way do I even need to go?"

"Just follow the trail North East and you'll be at the Southern Watch gate in no time."

With a final word of thanks Naccis picked up his pace and entered the small port city proper.