Hello everyone!
To repeat what the title said, (and get the full prompt, since it wouldn’t quite fit), two years ago I responded to this prompt:
[WP]
You're a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her Well, I took that idea and decided the “invaders” weren’t of the “Across the mountain” kind and instead were the “from another world time,” and thus was born The Dragon’s Scion, a trilogy of books dealing with the the dragon-raised and empowered princess’s war against the alien invaders. Book one,
Dragonflame, is out now, with more to follow in the coming months! Read the blurb below!
---
Tythel thought growing up under the wings of the last dragon, Karjon the Magnificent, would be the most unusual part of her life. It was only the beginning. Finally, she’s come of age to begin her transformation into a half dragon. But just as the ritual completes, a steel ship bursts from the clouds, killing the dragon and tearing her world asunder.
The attack leaves Tythel alone and on the run from the alien invaders. The same ones that conquered her world and killed her parents sixteen years ago. The rightful heir to the throne and the last draconic being, Tythel must use every tool at her disposal to survive and teach the aliens a lesson forged in flame.
They should have let sleeping dragons lie.
Dragonflame is an epic science-fantasy adventure. ---
FAQ Audiobook/Print Copy? Print Copy is coming soon. For audiobook, nothing yet announced, but I’ll update if there is one!
Is this science fiction or fantasy? Both, but in a different direction. Most science fantasy deals with science fiction tech and space wizards, and while I love me my space wizards, this goes the other way - the technology is powered by magic, the aliens use their own magic that isn’t just Sufficiently Advanced Technology, and the entire story takes place on a single fantasy world that the aliens invaded.
Length? Dragonflame clocks in at just about 95k words, which makes it about 300 pages in print.
Elves and Dwarves? Not exactly. There are the Sylvani and the Underfolk. Sylvani are woods-dwelling people, but they also have the ability to alter their skin appearance and texture and have mysterious origins, and the Underfolk don’t appear in book 1 but will in book 2, and they share “lives underground” with dwarves but take it in a vastly different direction.
I read this on your subreddit, what’s different? In addition to a completely new introduction/prologue, I’ve applied many of the lessons I’ve learned writing Dragon’s Scion and other books over the last two years, and the prose is cleaner and better fleshed out, as well as some minor changes to fix early installment weirdness.
Age range? The Dragon’s Scion deals with mature themes and has some racy jokes, but also has no real-world swears, no sex, and injuries are not described in overly-graphic detail. It’s PG-13 in movie land, and acceptable for ages 14+.
Sequels? This book is part of a trilogy, and I'm looking to have book 2 -
Ghostflame - out in mid Feb, early march.
Purge the xeno! Not a question and not quite the right tone, but I like the enthusiasm. You can pick it up here!
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NL I want to sample before I pick up? Well, good news for you - Check out the first two chapters below!
Prologue
On the path between a dying city and a mountain, a dying guardsman rode with a precious bundle in his arms. This was not the first horse the guardsman had ridden since leaving the city. The others had perished on the journey. He hadn’t even purchased this horse. Having long ago discarded his tabard and armor, this guardsman wore thick furs to keep out the bitter cold. Between that and the wild look in his eyes, he looked less like a guardsman and more like a bandit. It was fitting, in a way, that the third and final horse he rode was stolen.
His name was Comber, and he had been part of the troop assigned to protect the royal family against all threats. For ten years he had stood his post, alongside the royal family’s Umbrists. Comber didn’t have the Shadow-infused powers of the Umbrist. He had armor that had been forged with steel mixed with light, and a sword that had been blessed millennia ago with a dragon’s breath.
That was in the past.
He had a vow to protect the royal family against any and all threats. He’d fought when the minions of a necromancer had snuck in through the sewers. He still had a scar on his thigh from an assassin’s crossbow bolt meant for the King. He was not a coward, and he had thought himself beyond fear.
That was also in the past.
Comber looked over his shoulder. His pursuers weren’t there. He was alone here. There was nothing but a path through the woods, a path that had been cleared by game hunters who would head this way. It took a bold man to hunt in these woods, given what guarded them. The same being that drew Comber deeper within. His last hope for salvation.
The skies darkened, and Comber risked a glance upwards. There it was. That hole in the sky. The sun had passed behind it, casting a momentary shadow across the world. It was like the eclipse Comber remembered from when he was a child, but there was still light coming from the center. Small points showing stars unlike any he had seen before.
A few tiny dots broke off from the main circle. Comber shuddered at the sight. He’d seen what those dots could do when they got lower.
The bundle in his arms stirred when he shivered again, and looked up at him with bright green eyes. Awake now, the child’s face was placid for just a moment, those beautiful eyes flickering about. Then hunger set in, and the child started to wail.
“Shhh, little one,” Comber whispered, stroking the side of the child’s face. “Shhh.”
Still the child cried. She was just old enough to eat mashed food. Comber grimaced and looked around again. There was no one present. “Shhh,” Comber said, pulling on the reins of the horse. He reached into his pack. He still had some berries from the last town, and got to work mashing them into a paste with a mortar and pestle. At her age, the child had just enough understanding of what that smell and sound meant, and her cries turned to excited cooing as she reached towards his hands. “Almost there, little one,” Comber said. Or at least, he started to say. Halfway through the wound in his side reminded him of why he’d abandoned his sword, and Comber hissed in pain. Even the simple motion of grinding berries was too much for him.
He set the mortar down carefully. He hadn’t been able to get a spoon in his mad flight. The child was able to suckle the paste off his finger, and that would have to be good enough. Once she’d been fed, Comber held her with one hand and pulled the other inside his coat. He ran his fingers over the hasty bandage. It was damp. He wanted to look at the injury, but didn’t dare. He knew what he’d find. Black veins sprawling outwards from under the bandage, creeping along his skin. Last night, the veins had been halfway to his chest. Soon they would reach his heart.
He’d die then. Comber didn’t need to be a Physician to know that.
The child reached up and grabbed for his nose with hands wrapped in mittens. Comber let her grab it, then pressed his forehead to hers. “Soon, you’ll be safe,” Comber whispered to her.
Then it was time to transition the child to the straps wrapped around his chest, freeing his hands, and Comber resumed his ride to the mountain.
***
The horse - Comber had never bothered giving it a name - came to a stop, and the jolt rocked Comber awake. He blinked around blearily. He’d fallen asleep in the saddle somehow. Everything felt like it had been coated in a layer of wool. Comber worked one of his hands free of the glove and pressed it against his forehead. In spite of the cold, heat radiated from the touch. “Fever,” he muttered to the child.
“Bah-bah-bah-bah,” she said, which Comber took as affirmation. He smiled down at her, then looked around again. They’d reached the mountain.
“We go no further together,” he said to the horse. Comber had never been one to speak to his mounts, aside from commands. He preferred to make noises at them, reassuring ones. But in the grip of fever, Comber felt irrationally sorry for abandoning an animal he’d only had for a day. A stolen one, at that. “You’ll be able to find your way back to town, won’t you? Or maybe you’ll be able to run free now, without the need...the need…” Comber trailed off. What had he been doing? Talking to a horse, that’s what.
They were close to the base of the mountain, but not quite there. He could see it. Perhaps he could ride the horse a little bit further? He dug his heels in. The horse let out a huff of air and shook its head, instead backing up a few paces. “Of course,” Comber said, shaking his head. “Of course. A horse. A horse of course.” He laughed a bit. It wasn’t funny, but the child joined in the laughter. He patted the side of the horse’s neck again. “You smell it, don’t you?”
The horse shook its head violently and took another step back. That was all the confirmation Comber needed. The horse would go no further. “You know,” Comber said, getting ready to dismount. “I should have known. They eat you, don’t they?”
The horse did not respond this time, for it was a horse, and all it cared about was that it didn’t need to go any further.
Comber got one foot out of the stirrup, but the world started to spin. Instead of dismounting gracefully, Comber swung drunkenly, and collapsed into the snow. He had just enough presence of mind to turn around as he fell, landing on his back to keep the child safe. Comber growled in pain as the impact lanced through his back. The shock did wonders for clearing his head. The child, jostled by the fall, poked her head up and giggled.
“That’s right,” Comber grunted. “I’m silly, aren’t I?”
The child reached up for him, grasping for him. Comber put his finger out for her to hold onto.
He’d abandoned his station, and he knew he should feel guilty about that, but…the beings that had come from that hole in the sky were beyond anything that could be fought. Arrows bounced off their gleaming carapace. Swords were deflected with swipes from their unnatural hands. He had a duty, and he could only save one person.
He’d chosen her.
Comber rose to his feet and turned the horse around. It only took a nudge to get the horse trotting away from the mountain.
It would live. The child would live. That would have to be enough.
Comber made himself walk towards the mountain. Every footstep was like lead. He spotted a trail in the snow - someone else had come this way and left. They were human, or at least walked like one. It could be an Underfolk or Sylvani. It wasn’t the invaders. That much was certain. No one could mistake their skittering legs for human footsteps.
The mountain, at least, was free of snow. Impossibly free, and impossibly warm. A fire burned in the heart of this mountain. Not the molten fire of a volcano. A living flame. A hungering flame.
Had the fever started sooner than Comber realized? He’d been so certain of this plan. He’d heard tales of the flame that lived in this mountain. The tales had made it out to be one of the ones that did not feast on the flesh of Man or the other Intelligent Races. They said it had stood alongside the forces of the Light and Shadow against dread powers in the past. They said it was not to be disturbed, but would not slay - except for those that came to attack it.
But still...could he trust it?
It was too late now. There was nowhere else he was certain would be safe for the child. Not with that locket, secured carefully in a pouch in the swaddling. Even without it...would anywhere be safe from the invaders? Would anything? They hadn’t been killing innocents. They’d killed armies, they’d slaughtered guards, but any who did not pick up blade or spear against them was spared their wrath. Yet...Comber didn’t trust them to stop there. It was possible - nay, it seemed likely - that they were just starting with those that posed a threat to them.
“Not that we did,” he said to the child, who paused in her attempts to gum his finger to look up at him. “I hope, if you remember nothing else, you remember that we tried. We tried.”
“Burrrbl,” the child said happily.
“We tried,” Comber repeated. And they had. Nicandros, the captain of the royal guard, had commanded them perfectly. However, no strategy could overcome the fact that their weapons did no harm to the invaders. That was when Comber realized the only option was saving what he could. That there would be no victory here. Still, Comber had fought, until his wound. Then...he’d been even more useless in battle.
Time became unstable. Comber kept walking up the warm mountain and its bare stones. It was a gentle slope, which was the only reason he could progress at all. Ahead, he saw his goal.
A hole, high up the mountain. One far larger than would be needed for a man to pass through, and one too smooth and round to be the result of nature. This was not a cave. It was a lair.
Comber stumbled and dropped to his knees. The child started to wail again, startled by the jostling. Comber tried to shush its cries, but he was too late. Something was stirring in the lair, dragging itself forth from the depths. Comber saw golden eyes peering out of the darkness, followed by red scales and immense, bat-like wings.
Comber had never seen a dragon in person. Only flying overhead, and even then, such sights were rare. He’d expected them to crawl across a ground, like a lizard, but this one slunk with a cat’s grace. An older cat, one that was past its prime hunting days, but still possessing enough energy to move about. The dragon flapped its wings and took to the air, circling around Comber once before landing.
“I told Lathariel I would not be disturbed,” the dragon growled, and Comber was certain he’d made a mistake. Tears started to form in his eyes, unbidden.
“Please…” Comber said, but the dragon shook its head.
“I will not fight.” The dragon looked up, seeing the hole in the sky, and its nostrils flared. For a moment, Comber could see it considering...then it shook its head again. “I will not fight,” it repeated. “Leave this threat for younger drakes. Ones that have hotter flames.”
“Please…” Comber said again, then coughed. Flecks of something black came with the cough, and Comber moved with speed he didn’t know he still had, pulling the child free of the path of whatever those were. He groaned in pain and nearly blacked out.
“You are injured,” the dragon said, leaning down. “And you are ill.”
Comber nodded.
“I can heal your injuries,” the dragon said, after considering for a moment. “But my flames will make the disease spread quicker.”
“Not...me.” Comber coughed again. “Her.”
The dragon looked at the child. “She’s uninjured,” he said.
“Care...protect.” Comber’s vision grew dark. “She...she...is.” Comber’s vision narrowed. “She is...everything....” The dragon was barely visible now. The world was barely visible. The child stirred, looking from the dragon to Comber and back again, starting to make distressed noises. She didn’t fear the dragon. That was good. But she could tell something was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” Comber said to the child. He looked back up at the dragon. His vision was barely there anymore. He’d gone so far. It felt like part of his mind had been set on fire, to hold back death, and now that he was here, that flame had gone out. “Tell her…” Comber said, and then he started to cough again. “She is…”
“What should I tell her she is?” the dragon asked, after Comber had been silent for too long. When he got no response, the dragon Karjon leaned down. The man’s heartbeat had been so faint when he’d approached, Karjon could barely hear it. Now, though? Now there was nothing.
And the child started to cry.
Karjon looked at it. He’d never dealt with human children before. He knew they needed more comfort than hatchlings. Uncertain, Karjon reached out with one claw and retracted his talon, then brushed his scales on the child’s cheek.
Quick as a viper, the child grabbed Karjon’s finger tightly, trying to seek some comfort in a world that had abandoned her.
Karjon sighed. He had not had children of his own. He hadn’t planned on doing so. But...if nothing else, he could not leave this child to starve on his mountain. He carefully bit on the swaddling, making certain to only let his fangs touch the fabric.
Once these invaders had been dealt with, Karjon would take the child to the nearest humans. They would know how to handle her. He’d keep her safe until then. It shouldn’t be long. There had been many threats over his nine hundred years of life. They’d always been defeated.
There was no reason to believe this would be any different.
Chapter 1
“I have lived for centuries,” Karjon growled. “I dueled the Necromancer Gix and his army of undead. I was on the Council of Twelve, battling the Lichborne. When the mad Lumcaster sought to blind the world, I doused him in my flames. How is it that nothing has vexed me as much as you, little one?”
Tythel looked up at the dragon with eyes wide in feigned innocence. Sixteen years had passed since the mountain and the snow. She didn’t remember it, of course. Just as she did not remember what her name had been before coming here. Tythel was a dragon’s name, not a human name. For all Karjon’s bluster, she was not worried. In sixteen years, Karjon had never raised a claw in anger. “Father, have you considered that it is just because you love me so dearly?”
Karjon huffed and shook his head. “That cannot be it. I think it
must be because I did not know how
vexing your unique subspecies of humans can be.”
“Subspecies?” Tythel asked.
“Yes. Those strange beings humans call ‘adolescents.’ Or perhaps it is just a trait unique to daughters.”
Tythel beamed at him. The expression only came through with her eyes. In her books, humans would use their mouths to do things like smile and frown. Tythel understood, in theory, what those were, but the expressions didn’t come to her naturally. From what Karjon had said, she’d smiled and frowned at first...but with time, those had stopped. Now, she blinked rapidly to show her excitement. “Which would only matter because you love me. Therefore, I am still correct. And, since I
am correct, I see no reason I should not be allowed to go.”
Karjon sighed heavily. “Tythel…”
“You said I could,” Tythel reminded him, trying her best not to sound sullen.
“I told you that, yes,” Karjon said. “I said you could go when it was safe.”
“I want to see other humans,” Tythel said. “Why can’t I go?”
Karjon sighed again, a sound that filled the entire cave that was his lair and their home. “When, exactly, did ‘because I said so’ become insufficient?”
“When I stopped being a child,” Tythel said. “You said when I was sixteen, I could go and see other humans.”
“I said that you could go into the village when you were sixteen, Tythel. I did not say you could do so the very next day.” Making that promise, back when she was nine, had been a mistake. He’d done it to get her to cease her incessant questions. He didn’t think humans of that age could
remember things for so long.
“You’re splitting scales and you know it.” She folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him.
Karjon, who weighed in at just over six tons and had battled some of the greatest foes the world had ever seen, broke the staring contest first. Tythel tried not to blink when she realized that meant she was getting through to him. For all his fury and might, Karjon had always struggled to deny her anything. Still, he was not caving like he usually did. “Tythel, there are reasons for the choices I make. They are for your safety.”
“You always hide behind that, father. Are you planning on keeping me here the rest of my life? What are you hiding me
from?”
“There are those out there that would see you dead. Is that not enough explanation?”
She glowered at him again. “You know I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me. But if you want me to leave it alone, you’ll need to give me more than that.” Her expression softened. “Please, father.”
Karjon settled down onto the pile of coins that made his seat. Tythel took the cue and walked over to her own, smaller pile. She didn’t have a hoard of her own. Not yet. But she would one day, although she was less than eager for that day. Dragons did not share a hoard. She’d have to leave that day, never to live here again.
“Perhaps…” Karjon started to say, then held up a claw to forestall her before she got too excited. “It is time you know of the dangers beyond this lair. Why I keep you hidden here. And tomorrow…” he studied her critically for a moment, then nodded. “You are old enough.”
“To go visit?” Tythel asked hopefully.
“Not yet,” Karjon said, shaking his head. “But tomorrow, I think you are ready for the one thing I know you want more than to leave.”
Tythel sat up straighter, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You mean...you’ll finish the adoption?”
Karjon nodded, and Tythel leapt up to run over and wrap her arms around her father’s neck. “Thank you thank you thank you!” There were tears forming in her eyes, a human reaction she hadn’t shed with age, but these were tears of joy and not sadness.
“It’s past time,” Karjon said. “I just worried about how your body would react to the transformation.”
“I know,” Tythel said, although deep in her heart, she’d worried that he wouldn’t do it. That she wasn’t good enough. She’d never told Karjon that. If it wasn’t true, it would have broken his heart. If it was true...she couldn’t have handled that. Now, though, she was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Karjon put one of his claws around her, in his version of a hug. From what he’d said, dragons did not engage in touch the way humans did, but one of his books had told him a lack of touch and affection could kill human infants. Deep down, Tythel suspected he had grown to like it himself. “Now. Will you listen, and will you wait?”
Tythel nodded firmly.
“Then do so,” Karjon said, and Tythel settled back onto her coins. “Sixteen years ago, just days before you were brought to me...the skies let loose monsters.”
“Monsters?” Tythel asked.
Karjon nodded. “I do not know if they have a name. I know what Lathariel told me they were being called ‘Those From Above.’ They had weapons that sucked in light and spewed forth their own unnatural energy. Unlight, she called it.”
“And you fought them?” Tythel asked, excitedly.
Karjon shook his head, and in his eyes Tythel could see sorrow she’d never imagined from her father. “I am old,” Karjon said. “I thought they could be defeated without me. Even when I was told dragonflame was all that would harm them...I still thought they could be defeated. There were other dragons. By the time I realized...it was too late. Those From Above had secured power over humanity. They rule down there now. As far as I know, they only fear dragonflame.”
Tythel held up a hand and focused. A ball of flame formed between her fingers. “They fear this?” she asked. Dragonflame was similar to normal fire, but more vibrant. The transition from white to yellow to orange to red that happened in a normal flame was marked by clearer lines. Hers was weak. Not close to the true power of a dragon. She could barely call upon it, and couldn’t even touch the greater fires of ghostflame or heartflame. But it was not nothing.
“Yes,” Karjon said, and there was a somber note to his voice that Tythel couldn’t ignore. “By healing you when you injured yourself...you already formed the gift. They will hunt you. For that and...for other reasons.”
“What other reasons?”
Karjon shook his head. “Not yet. There is much I have kept from you. You are old enough now, but...before that there’s something you need to understand.” He put one claw carefully on her knee. “Tythel...tomorrow, after the Ascension, the number of dragons in the world will go from one to two.”
Tythel stared at her father for a long moment, processing his words. She’d never met another dragon, but the idea there had been other dragons out there...she’d just assumed it. Realizing they’d been hunted down, there was only one thing to do.
She hugged Karjon again, and her father hugged her back. They sat there for a moment, before both of them could steady themselves enough to speak. “Tythel,” Karjon said. “I…have kept something else from you.”
“It’s so much,” Tythel whispered.
Karjon cocked his head. “Do you need time before the rest?”
Tythel considered for a moment, then shook her head. “A scholar’s first duty is to acquire all information before passing judgement,” Tythel said, repeating one of her father’s lessons back to him.
Karjon gave her a slow blink of amusement. “You listen too well sometimes. Very well. Your locket.”
Tythel’s hands went up to the chain around her neck. She’d worn it as long as she could remember. It was the one piece of her own hoard she had. “You said it was my parents.”
Karjon nodded. “That locket is the other reason you will be hunted. It is the locket of the royal family.”
There was a moment of silence as Tythel stared at her father. “The…the royal family. But they…I mean…that’s…” Tythel sputtered off into silence. She couldn’t say it. “I’m…”
Karjon nodded, the motion oddly gentle. “You are the heir to the throne of your family. The throne of the kingdom of Dretayne. You are the next queen of this realm. And for that, you will be hunted as one of the barriers to the rule of Those from Above.”
Tythel took a deep, ragged breath, then nodded slowly. She couldn’t think about it right now. She could barely understand it. So she fell back on the lessons of her childhood. A scholar's first duty. “Tell me everything.”
***
Tythel did not sleep well that night. She tried to, doing every meditation technique Karjon had taught her over the years, but she spent the entire night tossing and turning. The bed she slept on was one Karjon had gotten as a trophy from the Underfolk, those strange underground folk that were in Karjon’s stories, and it had been perfect for her when she was a child. But for the last two years, she’d been forced to scrunch up on it, leading to the impression the Underfolk were likely quite small.
In truth, Tythel was taller than most humans. Sixteen years of eating a diet of meat cooked in dragonflame and lifting and moving gold on a regular basis had left her with a build that was less princess and more warrior, but since the only humans she’d seen had been in her imagination, she’d had no idea how imposing a figure she could cut when she wasn’t comparing herself to a dragon.
She’d never complained to Karjon about the small bed. Other things, sure, but never that – or any of the other things he’d provided to her over the years. Tythel had known how lucky she’d been to have a dragon for a father. Karjon’s stories were full of tales of the legendary heroes of the past, Calcon the Brave and Rilan the Just and Brigith the Nobel and all the rest of them. All of them had started their lives as humble folk that had heeded the Call, which meant their lives had been the humdrum work of farmers and blacksmiths and other folk, and the stories all made that life out to be terribly dull.
She’d always imagined Karjon had rescued her from that sort of suffering.
Now she knew differently. She would have been a princess, daughter to a king and queen, living a life of luxury and wealth and, if the legends were any indication, would have either ended up spoiled rotten or kidnapped by someone to later be rescued. Other than that her life would have been one of formality and circumstance until she was married off to secure an alliance or to whoever had been strong enough to save her, regardless of their other qualities.
Tythel decided that, small bed aside, she still felt lucky to have been raised by Karjon. That feeling was quickly followed by shame at even considering an alternative.
She got out of bed and pulled her blankets and pillows to the floor, arranging them in a pile like the gold Karjon slept on. It wasn’t as comfortable as the bed, but it did allow her to stretch out, and that was preferable to being cramped into the bed at the moment.
The problem was, it wasn’t the bed keeping her up tonight. It was her mind.
Tythel had been on top of the mountain a few times every year, under Karjon’s careful eye. He had explained that if she didn’t get to see the sky every now and then, she’d probably go mad. The village had always fascinated her, and her entire life she’d wanted to go there, just for a day, to explore and celebrate. She wanted to see horses and soldiers and blacksmiths and maybe even a lumcaster if she was really lucky. Karjon had taught her some magic, the barest flicker of dragonflame, but it was not magic meant for humans.
Of course, that would change tomorrow. Well, her being human – she didn’t know if she’d gain any proficiency with her meager powers in the process. She’d have Karjon’s power running through her veins, becoming half dragon and half human. For most of her life, it had been the one thing she’d wanted more than going to the village.
The village. She turned over again.
From the mountain, it had been hard to make out details. She’d filled in those details in her head with ones stolen from her stories – thatched roofs covering star-crossed lovers, barns harboring hard working folk with wisdom gained from years of honest toil, scholars in cramped quarters trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe, chimneys smoking with fires that were roasting chickens or beef. Never in her life had she imagined the people out there were being subjected to tyrants that had more power than she could imagine. Never, not once, had she imagined that she was their ruler by a mere quirk of birth.
That thought got her turning again. Karjon’s stories had talked about something called “noblesse oblige,” the responsibilities that the nobility had to their people. Protect them, help them, guide them, and care for them. If she was a noble – a royal – didn’t the same thing apply to her?
Stop it, Tythel. Stop it. But the thought wouldn’t go away. If she stayed here with Karjon, she was failing in her responsibility. The sixteen years leading up to this had not been her fault; she hadn’t known she had duties. After a moment of reflection, she decided they weren’t Karjon’s fault either. They were the fault of the mysterious Those from Above. Now that she knew, however…well, Karjon had always taught her that inaction was still a choice, the choice to do nothing.
Tomorrow, then, after the Ritual. She’d leave, no matter what. And if Karjon tried to stop her…well, then she’d have to do it alone.
And that thought, more than any other, caused Tythel to burrow as deeply as she could into the blankets before sleep finally claimed her.
---
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NL And if you can, please leave an honest review when you’re done - nothing helps more than reads and reviews.
Sock wearer here. There are dozens of us.
Over the calf and just below the knee. Gentleman in the UK.
During Christmas I was epidemiologically stupid but mental-healthily clever by staying over with the parents rather than being holed up alone in a new area. Having brought several pairs of socks along, I foolishly stuck some in the black hole that's known as everyone's mum's washing machine.
I think a couple of my finest pairs went. The kind that hold onto their elastic, stay smooth, don't bobble, are thick enough to stay warm and robust enough to not grow holes while being thin enough to clip onto sock suspenders not feel restrictive. Great socks. Perfect socks.
Can we ever remember where we got our socks? I mean, half the time they come as Christmas presents but not this year sadly. Half the time they come from TK Maxx, a mixed bag in a very depressing shop where I'll choose a decent looking yet cheap set and gamble on whether they'll last, or whether I'll tolerate any of their shortcomings for long (quickly failing elastic, calf slip, etc).
Which leads me back to memories of reading these "What's expensive, but worth it?" threads on AskReddit. I've seen a few in the past, and besides people recommending good headphones, mattresses, and bedding with high thread count, there's usually someone who vouches for a good pair of socks. A comfortable pair that lasts.
I think I'm a bit crap at searching subreddits as going for vague terms like "socks + worth it" isn't yielding results on AskReddit, and by first searches this subreddit seems a bit freewheelin' so there aren't people like me spending half their weekends wondering what their perfect sock would look like. You just go out and flaunt it.
So here's mine: size is 6–7. Preference is less for cutesy patterns (unless they're tortoises or squirrels because that's different), neither for depressing black/farty-corporate every day of the week (love a bold red sock, a modest pattern or even a little texture). I don't like the elastic around the top unravelling within the year (who does?), holes in toes (who does?), or unstretchy socks that aren't interested in being held up by suspenders (seriously). Should work well with slim trousers for work and non-work, either being muted or giving a flash of colour. Socks with days of the week stitched onto them = NO. Can have texture, as said, but too thick means they won't fit on the suspender and may not stay up. And to reiterate, UK available. That firm in Colorado may do an amazing pair, but would it be worth it arriving on our Vitamin D-less plague island?
Ta!
submitted by 36 yrs old, NW UK, trying to lose weight... and this is my diary.
Location: NW UK
Household: Me, my husband H and our dog
**Reasons for wanting to get fit: I unfortunately need to lose around 30kg. I’m hypothyroid and my weight goes up very easily. I do enjoy exercise though and would like to feel fitter and healthier again.
Fitness Goal: I’d like to get into my size 12 (UK) clothes again. Would like to be a bit less tired too and less out of breath when riding my pony.
Workouts: Walking, horse riding, and Les Mills classes at the moment. When the gym is open I like yoga and swimming.
Diet: I don’t follow anything specific, but am trying to not drink at all during the week (this week not included as we are on holiday) Also trying to stick to 1500 calories on the MyFitnessPal app.
Lifestyle: Currently working at home most days. We have a dog and horses so are outside a lot and I enjoy walking, swimming and group exercise. I also love cooking and wine however.
You get a couple of bonus days as I started this Christmas Day! I obviously didn’t do that well food/wine wise as we were on holiday but we did try to exercise best we could.
Christmas Day
5am- It’s Christmas! I wake up at 5am needing a wee, and decide to turn off my 7am alarm. I then wake up again at 8.45am! Eeek. I go downstairs and return with a cuppa for H and the dogs stocking (yes we are those people). He gets 10 tennis balls, 3 toys, 2 bones and a nice fleece blanket off us and his dog sitter so he is delighted.
9am - We make coffees and open our presents. We have a massive haul and I feel so incredibly spoilt. My highlight was a brand new fancy bridle for the pony I acquired in the summer from H, and I bought him a canvas print from a gallery we often walk past when we visit the coast.
10am - H goes outside to take the dog to the farm to do the horses, and it’s frozen solid. He finally leaves after a few false starts, and I crack on with the cooking. I make cauliflower cheese first, then assemble pigs in blankets, make Yorkshire pudding batter and then peel lots of potatoes, carrots and parsnips.
12pm - H and the dog return just as the chickens are about to go in and I shower, get dressed and pour a glass of champers. I find Turkey dry, and too big for 6 so I always roast 2 chickens. We are having H’s family round for lunch (the 4 live together). Unfortunately we had to cancel seeing mine as it was planned for Boxing Day!
2pm - Our guests turn up, H carves the chickens and I quickly knock together some gravy and boil some broccoli. We sit down and it’s all really good, we have a nice chat, and they head off, they really are easy guests.
4pm - H drives us down to give the nags their Christmas dinner of haylage and a few carrots. I check on a horse that belongs to a friend who had colic the other night and he seems fine, so we head home, it’s freezing!!! A Christmas evening of watching Sherlock, picking at roast chicken and slobbing out. Last dog wee and I’m in bed just after 10.
Boxing Day
9am - Good morning from tier 3! Typical as I take time off to spend with H whose shop is closed for the period everything else closes too. We get up but can’t face breakfast so it’s coffees and a muesli bar then we head down the farm. We arrive to the incredibly sad news that the horse was found colicking again on a later check up (we all staggered our nightly feeding). The vet came out in the night and tried treating it 3 times but then had to call it a day. We are all so incredibly sad as he was a lovely kind boy, and I hide in my stable hugging my pony whilst he is collected.
12pm - I decide against riding but H helps me fit my bridle, and we head home to drop the dog off and heat up a bit of leftover cauliflower cheese. I bought H a months membership to the gym I go to whilst he is off, and I am so glad I did as it’s one of the only things that’s partially open now. We grab our togs and have a swim, followed by a very long soak in the jacuzzi. On our way out MIL rings to say that they have done the horses, so we head straight home.
4pm - I put on the fake oodie I got for Christmas, and we open a bottle of Lanson. We eat our body weight in nuts whilst watching the Hunger games.
6pm - A quick sandwich, and we follow it up with Catching Fire. Such good films. Whilst watching I browse Facebook and see that my favourite yoga instructors from the gym are back offering zoom classes as group classes have been cancelled in tier 3. I got into yoga in lockdown 1 as the gym offered it outside and I found that I didn’t hate it after all. I know the self employed gym instructors are really struggling right now, so I donate £20 to a charity class going ahead, as well as signing up to every class I can currently make.
Ridiculous squabble about the tv volume of all things, followed by bed.
27th December
8am - Wake up and scroll my phone for a bit whilst waiting for H to wake up, he brings coffee to bed and we let the dog up for a cuddle. We don’t bother with breakfast so head down to sort the horses. We feed, muck out and both ride, I have a lovely ride on my pony, whilst H rides his big event horse. Once done we head home before we freeze to death.
12.30pm - I quickly poach some eggs on toast for all of us, H and I eat them and I save the dogs for his tea! Afterwards we head back to the gym for a 30 min swim and a soak in the outdoor jacuzzi. On the way home I stop at Lidl just for some milk, cheese and crisps. We’re off pony duty again tonight so straight home in the warm for us.
4pm - Once home I do 30 mins of yoga; and H watches the end of a film, then it’s pj’s, champagne and nuts/crisps whilst watching the first part of the Mockingjay film. During this my phone pops up with a reminder and it turns out that one of the yoga classes I signed up to is tonight. Funny thing is that H told me it was, but I was adamant it was tomorrow. Apparently it is indeed Sunday today. I’ve had half a bottle of champagne and I’m full of crisps; so I message the instructor to see if there is going to be a link to access. She saves my bacon and laughs at me a lot.
8pm - We don’t bother with a proper dinner again, just get out a cheeseboard we were bought from a friend whilst watching the last of the 4 films. I’m now totally over sitting on the sofa, so the dog gets taken out, and we’re in bed pre 10pm.
28th December
8am - I wake up needing a wee again and it’s snowed! I pinch H’s dressing gown and his crocs and take the dog out for a quick play as he’s barely seen snow before. He’s a bit unsure then jumps around like a loon. When I can’t feel my feet anymore I come in and turn my laptop on to check my emails. It’s a bank holiday today but I have stuck to my resolve of leaving it off so far (I’ve done a lot of hours lately). There is only one email to sort so I sort it, everyone else is clearly managing to take a break too.
9am - I take H a cup of tea and tell him we best go, snow and horses unfortunately do not mix well. We quickly make some toast, knock the snow off the car, drive down very slowly and arrive to the news that the weight of the snow has pulled down an old canopy roof over where the horses are shod, so we secure the area best as we can with barriers and cones, and I feed and muck out whilst H shovels snow in case it freezes again. A quick chat with his parents who have arrived and eat a few too many Haribo that someone has bought down, but it’s too cold for hanging around outside today!
2pm - We get home and make a sandwich each, and just have an hour to warm up, then we’re back down whilst it’s still light with a boot full of rock salt. Even the dog looks aghast at going out again so soon but needs must. H spreads this whilst I feed and water.
4pm - We decide as its still early to head back to the pool AGAIN. It’s really busy inside so even H who is a terrible wuss with a cold pool heads outside. Well it’s absolutely beautiful, I only get 25 mins out of him before he wants the jacuzzi but it’s stunning in the dark in a heated outdoor pool. We poach in the jacuzzi until I feel slightly lightheaded then shower, change at home.
6pm - Home James. I feel vegetable deprived, and also deprived of my favourite hobby - cooking. I have a simply cook pack of Sicilian roast chicken spices so I roast chicken breasts, mash potatoes and roast some leftover carrots and parsnips to have with sweetcorn and the left over Christmas stuffing (for H). We stick on a Sherlock and eat away! It’s lovely. I made enough for leftovers for lunch but H ate them! We watch tv for a bit longer but are really tired so a last quick dog walk and then to bed.
29th December
8am - So i’m not actually on leave today technically, but I’ve agreed I’ll log the hours worked and sort it out later. Check my e-mails but only a few bits to sort so do it right away. Scrambled eggs on toast and coffees and it’s off we go. It luckily hasn’t snowed further, but it’s very cold so very icy and slippy. All the family are down helping this morning so not loads to do. H rides his horse but the rest of us try to stay warm.
12pm - It’s time to do the supermarket shop, thankfully everything is in stock. I buy far too much stuff including tulips, toilet roll, beer for H, loads of chicken and as there are discounts on washing powder and cleaning products those too.
3pm - Once home and unloaded I do an hours work, then download the yoga class I got the link for the other day. When done I heat up some quiche. I did the yoga on our bedroom and the floor is really grotty so I grab H and we dust, hoover, change the bedding and put laundry away, looks so much better afterwards. H fancies a nap and I read my book.
6pm - We scrap the pool today, and I check my work emails again then potter about chopping veg for dinner. I’m making a SimplyCook recipe of linguine with chicken and veg. It tastes far more decadent than it is, as the sauce has reduced fat creme fraiche but tastes like cream!
8pm - We eat and watch Sherlock. I search on line for new lululemon leggings. I love them, and I can do everything in them, but I struggle with the nulux fabric as they slide down, so I have had rubbish luck lately (hence my PayPal balance from reselling). I ask a couple of questions and make a couple of offers on eBay, but I spot what I think could be the perfect pair on the lulu sale, so I pop in an order £64.99. I also book tickets for a local winter light walk that was recommended by a friend. To bed we go!
30th December
8am - Wake up naturally again. Going to struggle to bring this forward by 90 minutes before too long. Dog wee and check e-mails, still quiet. I got a counter offer off a pair of leggings but decide to hold off as I bought a pair yesterday. It’s my charity yoga class this morning so I set up in the bedroom, and H heads down for breakfast with the dog.
10.30am - Was a lovely class and for a great homeless charity. I make a coffee in my to go mug and grab a muesli bar and off we go. It’s snowed again and the yard is frozen solid. It’s the glamorous side of horse ownership when the taps freeze and you have to shovel horse poo all over the concrete to stop people slipping everywhere. Wouldn’t have it any other way but it’s rather cold! Not really safe to get the horses out on the ice so neither of us ride, and we come home for a warm up.
12.30 - I heat up a bit of the leftover chicken and veg from last night and H has cheese. We watch a Sherlock and are intending on doing very little. However, up pops Matt Hancock and we’re in tier 4 from midnight. That means no gym. And whilst it isn’t really swimming outside kinda weather, we are stupid so do it anyway. Half an hour swim then to the jacuzzi.
6pm - Get home and potter about doing jobs. End up accepting the offer on those Lulu leggings as it looks like I’m going to be living in them. £50. Also book onto another special yoga class, £7.50 and see that a Les Mills presenter is doing combat classes on zoom so book onto 3 of those next week £11. I do need to stop doing this now and use my Les Mills app but I do like the classes and know the instructors appreciate the income.
8pm - I heat up some chilli from the freezer, and we rent the new Roald Dahl Witches film on Prime. We really enjoy it (nothing beats the original though). I text my best friend and brother who use my Prime, to see if they want to watch it. Straight to bed, read for a bit and then sleep.
31st December
8am - Hello from Tier 4 (FML). I had a terrible nights sleep last night, just felt really flat. Emails checked. Dog taken out (he has access to our yard 24/7 but does he choose to wee there?! Of course not.) Toast and marmite for me (jam for H) and coffees from the nespresso machine. To the horses we go, bit easier today, we have a working tap. On the way past we see a car gone into someone’s front garden in the village. What a rubbish day they all must have had.
1.30pm - Home and a microwave pizza for me, and a sandwich for H. I do a little bit of work as what I have been waiting for has come through, and then just really feel the need to start cleaning. The dog moults a lot and us being in and out from the farm doesn’t lead to clean floors.
3.30pm - I mop us out of the house as we are on pony duty tonight. We’re done in record time and then it’s back home in the warm. We open a bottle of Laurent Perrier that work got me! Very nice indeed. Watch some more Sherlock.
7pm - We order Pizza Hut £30, and play cards. Make some resolutions including dry January (from Mon 4th) and fitness and weight for me. Make it just until midnight, then straight to bed and sleep. Happy new year!!
1st January
6am - Wake up desperate for a wee and then just can’t really get back to sleep so just toss restlessly. H goes to the shop to buy milk and bread and comes home with crumpets so I have 2 of those and a coffee. Head down to the horses. Lots of people down this morning so we’re able to chat whilst H rides, still very cold though.
12.30pm - Maybe chatting outside wasn’t advisable. We are so cold. We make some lunch, just another microwave pizza for me, then finish off the last episode of Sherlock. We go and huddle in bed for a while shivering.
4pm - Back on pony duty for us so we grab the dog and head down, get it sorted in record time. Come back and plug my car in ready for work next week.
5pm - H does a bit of painting around the house whilst I prepare chicken tacos. We rent the original Roald Dahl witches film this time. I order some second hand yoga equipment off an instructor ready for some classes ahead. £28 for a bolster, strap and mat (she’ll deliver Monday). We have done nothing today but are still tired so bed and reading by 10pm
2nd January
8am - Wake up slightly earlier, again for a wee and come back to bed. H wakes up shortly after and goes downstairs for a wee for him and he takes the dog out and brings coffee to bed! Down to the horses, it’s still cold but I decide to ride. She’s very fresh and it only goes ok.
12.30pm - Back home and put the heating on. Cheese and biscuits for lunch for both of us, and I start the Bridgerton series on Netflix whilst H does some admin.
5pm - We aren’t on horses duty tonight so open a bottle of wine and watch an episode of Bridgerton together (he was sat near so got the gist). I take a break at 6pm to roast a spatchcock chicken with some baby potatoes, roast parsnips and carrots, green beans and red cabbage as I have a fridge full of veg and I hate food waste. We watch Bridgerton all night, then just after 10pm H does the last dog wee and we tidy up and go to bed.
Day 9 - 3rd January
9am- Wake up to an alarm and snooze. I have a Combat class booked for 9.30am. I have mentioned before that I’m very uncomfortable exercising solo in front of H, so I suggest sacking it off but he tells me I should do it, and clears the bedroom floor for me whilst I go get dressed. So glad I did, a cracking 50 minute class.
10.30am - Bundle up and go to get the horses done. H rides his sisters horse for her then she gets on, then I ride my pony and H rides his horse. So we are there ages but it’s dry and sunny even if it is very cold.
2pm - Get home and have some left over chicken from last night, Brie and cranberry sauce in a wrap each. We both then go to the supermarket. I buy a few bits for the house, but we don’t need much. H goes to get his shop ready for next week, I tidy the house, have a bath, and do a few hours of work.
6pm - H gets home and jumps in the bath I ran, whilst I make sausages and mash for dinner. We finish Bridgerton, and chat for a while and then bed. Unfortunately it’s 28 days alcohol and sugar free coming up from tomorrow, plus back at work for us both so we cuddle up and go to sleep!
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