Category: Story Time

We are solidly in holiday season, with us Americans just having celebrated Thanksgiving and with wintery get-togethers on the horizon. There’s nothing I like better than hanging out with my family in the kitchen. I thought I’d give the Crew that feeling too.

Just so y’all know, we’ll be taking December off of story time, but that’s because we’re hard at work preparing season five! We’re so close!

Until then, enjoy!

*

“What do you want to do for your birthday next week?”

Zara turned to Rosie with her eyes practically bugging out. “How did you know?”

Please ignore the fact that ghosts are a literal monster in D&D. It’s spooky season, dangit. We’re pretending.

Enjoy!

* * *

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Knowles couldn’t help but note the tiny quirk of mischief at the corner of Cybilene’s mouth as she asked the question. They were fairly sure that Tode noticed too, although he opted to mirror the look, ready to join in with mischief of his own. He was doing that more and more, falling easily into step with his twin. It was probably healthy, Knowles thought.

“I mean, it seems silly to dismiss the possibility, given everything I’ve seen,” Castor posited.

“Still though, like, ghosts?” Rosie waved a lackadaisical hand. “I don’t really know. There’s plenty of weird stuff that’s real without adding spirits. Like the actual undead.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts? Really?” Killiker asked. He was laying down beside the fire and had been whistling up until that moment, a lonesome song that Knowles could feel kneading the stress out of their shoulders. They were sorry he stopped.

This month’s story is a little bit short. Just like Tode. Who it’s about.

I’ve been very busy! Who hasn’t! So I find my mind turning to Tode, the king of disappearing for years in the woods. Until, of course, he doesn’t. Enjoy!

* * *

“Cousin Tode, do you like parties?”

Tode wasn’t surprised by the appearance of little Helix on his stroll through the woods; he knew he was being followed, and she was not very subtle. He was surprised by the way she just appeared beside him and started asking questions. Questions were, he suspected, her thing.

“I don’t know,” Tode said. “I’ve never been to a party before.”

Just a short one this month, as I’m still very busy finishing up our crowdfund fulfillment, but I would never neglect our loyal newsletter subscribers. Thank you for being with us through our long hiatus, and enjoy Sterling!

*

Sterling was in his office, trying to make a rota for a shift change for the guard, and was failing.

It wasn’t sleep deprivation. He’d been sleeping very well, in fact, resting in the knowledge that he was being useful and doing what was right, and that he was never far from a friend. It wasn’t boredom—on the contrary, he’d give anything to focus on the task at hand.

It was just a strange feeling. He felt itchy and uncomfortable in his own skin. It reminded him of how he felt before he’d met his Gang, wandering alone and full of anger and shame.

Minus the anger and shame, of course. What was it?

It was pointed out to me that there is a severe lack of Velune content! Which we must rectify immediately!

*

Relasti tip-toed through the hall of the abbey, knowing full well that something was about to happen and trying not to let the dread show on their face. “Velune? Are you here?”

A snicker bounced around the stone walls, echoing. Relasti gritted their teeth. The worst part was the anticipation. “C’mon out, okay?”

“I’m in here.” Velune’s voice was tiny and merry, laughing at them. It was coming from the door to the workshop, which was slightly ajar.

Relasti examined the door carefully for tripwires, even taking the time to try a Detect Magic spell. Velune couldn’t do magic yet, as far as Relasti knew, but maybe they’d picked up something new. But Relasti detected no magic, so they took a deep breath and opened the door.

The second part of our exploration of How Meltyre Is Great At Fishing. (If you missed part one, it’s right here.) This story time includes an animal death. That seems obvious to say, but better safe than sorry. The animal is a fish.

*

Meltyre was ten years old. Still.

It was funny, he thought, stealing from tree to tree, how long it took to get to your next birthday. Theoretically, Mother had said, Dad would be home just after his next birthday. She had in fact been saying that like a mantra, and Meltyre was so sick of hearing about his birthday.

He was tired of waiting for it too, he thought, taking one last look around. Okay, the coast was clear.

Casually, he moseyed up to the magistrate’s private pond and sat down, pulling a line out of his pocket and looking for a bug to bait the hook with.

That’s right, a two-parter! We have a longer set of stories today and next month. Tune in to the newsletter next month for our next story, or join our Patreon to get it in just a week or so! All patrons get early access to Story Time every month. Let’s go!

*

Meltyre was eight years old.

“And you just sit still and wait for the fish?” Meltyre asked his dad. The two of them were laying on their stomachs on a bank overhanging the lazy little stream that bordered their farm.

“Just sit and wait for the fish,” Dad confirmed. “Now fish are cautious creatures. They usually like to test the bait before they eat it. So you can’t pull back on the line when you first feel a nibble. You have to wait until they actually take a bite.”

“How do you know when they take a bite?” Meltyre asked, voice hushed.

I was definitely in an Easter sort of mood when I wrote this one. I’m always looking for new inspiration, so if you have ideas, you can always join our Patreon! Not only do you get the first look at new Story Time and all the benefits of supporting the show, but $20/month patrons get to suggest prompts!

All right, that’s enough schilling, let’s go hang out with Tode.

*

The Crew—the original five plus Cybilene and Killiker—made their way through the winding woods around Touramelle, chatting as they went.

“Then our father doesn’t know we’re coming?” Tode was a little alarmed by this.

“The mail service isn’t exactly dependable out here,” Cybilene explained. “Even if I had sent a letter, we would have arrived long before it was delivered.”

“That sounds like a good way to shock an old man to death,” Zara muttered.

Rosie elbowed her. “You just don’t like surprises.”

“Don’t worry, Papa loves surprises,” Cybilene assured them.

Enjoy some cathartic violence towards the concept of academic snobbery!

*

Zara couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction at the jingle of coins in the heavy bag she laid on the Headmaster’s desk. Not that she let it show.

The Headmaster regarded the bag carefully with her beady blue eyes. “You understand, of course, that we don’t just accept any student who has the money. There are standards. Protocol to be observed.”

“The charter of your circle says that you’ll admit any student if they can meet the tuition cost and show magical aptitude,” Zara said. She’d read the charter. Best to be prepared.

“And your magical aptitude?” The Headmaster said with barely hidden disdain.

By habit, Zara took a slow breath in and out, and held out a hand. A small, carefully controlled flame flickered to life above her palm, a bright sweet thing.