7 Weeks of Prompts

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

I'm making this for my 3,500. HURRAY! Time to prompt y'all to write.

Alright, there are seven weeks and seven prompts per week. Each week in this will start on Monday. I'll give you the first week of prompts now.

Spoiler

Day 1:

Spoiler

Murmuring Crystals

Day 2:

Spoiler

Mysterious Shadows

Day 3:

Spoiler

Phantom Enemies

Day 4:

Spoiler

Dark Memory

Day 5:

Spoiler

Mischief is Achieved

Day 6:

Spoiler

The Uncounted Cost

Day 7:

Spoiler

Unknowable Depths

 

I hope y'all enjoy this!

[Lord Gregorio]

OH no! Another one!  I'll be doing some of them at least.

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

hah.

Yeah, I promise to come up with some fun ones.

[Wittles]

These look fun, I'll see if I can join in sometimes

[The Bookwyrm]

Thank you Thaidakar doing what I could not!

This is so much more sustainable!

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

THIS BEGINS TODAY!

[Lord Gregorio]

You gonna post 'em on here, or are they just prompts for us to use? I'll gladly post here. 

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

On 1/30/2023 at 5:22 PM, Gregorio said:

You gonna post 'em on here, or are they just prompts for us to use? I'll gladly post here. 

The prompts up there are for the first week.

I'll put the first three right here though

Day One

Spoiler

Murmuring Crystals

Day Two

Spoiler

Mysterious Shadows

Day Three

Spoiler

Phantom Enemies

 

[Lord Gregorio]

1 hour ago, Thaidakar the Ghostblood said:

The prompts up there are for the first week.

 

I meant the short stories. Is this like the month of prompts things?

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

3 minutes ago, Gregorio said:

I meant the short stories. Is this like the month of prompts things?

Um

post here I think.

[Lord Gregorio]

I'll probably just post all my shorts here. I really like these prompts so far though.

Day #3 - Phantom Enemies

Spoiler

"I first encountered Death as a fourteen year old. Merely a child. Isn't that crazy? You'd think that sort of predator would go after tougher prey. Instead he decided on me. Maybe he saw something in me. Some inner natural fear that would help me. Insane, maybe. Having Death after you for eight years does that to you. You know how many times I've seen him? Four. Four! I'm getting darn close to nine encounters."

"Do you know how hard it is to escape Death. To have that presence chasing you from behind, from the sides, and even from in front. You never know where it will come from. It doesn't always obey the laws of the natural world. Knives in hand and that sinister presence, I've almost died. I've had that feeling of hopelessness. To survive you have to have this luck that is hard to come by. He isn't just a monster, he's..."

The interviewer interrupts, "Mr. Devel can you please stay on track. What happened after your first escape?"

"Well, the typical things. I cried like a baby, went to the police. Gave my report to the General. Then I began seeing the things."

"What things?" The interviewer leans forward.

"Y'know," Devel gives a meaningful look, "You've heard about this before. I saw them. The ghosts."

"So. Ghostsight? What else?"

"You know what? I don't think I want to talk about this."

The interviewer gives a sly smile, "Your General required this. He wants info on anyone in his unit that's been Cursed. I'm sure I don't have to tell you..."

"Alright!" Devel yells, "Alright. I'll tell you." Devel takes a deep breath before he continues, "Let me tell my story. It might make more sense or something. I don't know how the freak you guys handle this crap."

"I began seeing the apparitions you guys call ghosts. They're more like electric storms vaguely in the shape of a human. They don't like me very much. Or, at all. See, the first time I found out what I could do there were a heck of a lot of zappy cloudy shapes after me. I disappeared. Entered the ghost realm, whatever you maniacs call it. I shifted, I phazed, I..."

"You ghosted."

"Sure. Anyway. I nearly killed myself. Or thought I was gonna die. I was on a second floor, past through the first and thought I was gonna keep going. Luckily I only sank till I hit dirt. After a few hours I found how to un...ghost some areas of my body to pull myself up."

"So. When did the ghosts come after you?"

"I figured out how to make the bottoms of my feet tangible, then I began experiencing in with it. I went too far. Used it too much. I didn't do anything stupid, didn't go anywhere inappropriate or illegal. It's just...they were all the sudden surrounding me, yelling in their ghostly moans. Terrible static voices. Floating around me like fog. See, I've dealt with monsters. I've killed werewolves and basilisks. Heck, I even encountered a vampire once. I've never met a ghost before. There scary, when you're not a body. They're harmless you know, until you ghost."

"Thank you Mr. Devel. We may be back for more, if we find your information needing...expanding."

Day #4 - Dark Memory

Spoiler

Darren ran a hand through his hair. Bloody monsters. He pulled up his sleeve, inspecting the red splotch that stained his leather jacket. It closed as he watched, spurting out some blood as it healed. He winced. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, the skin adjusting in seconds, bones mending. It was strange, not normal. It was part of him now, though. He learned to live with the side effects of being able to recover from gun shots.

The corridor was dark, empty. Like the alley had been that night. Darren felt a chill. A light flickered at the end of the hall, Darren saw a figure there. Dark and silent. He shouldn't have been there. It wasn't normal. Darren blinked, stumbling back. The figure disappeared as the light went out. Darren reached forward and pulled energy from the cables around him. With a grunt he shaped the cloud and sent the arrow forward. The faint light revealed no one. It was him. Either that or Darren was seeing things. Had he gone crazy? After one escape.

He sat there until lights began switching on. A woman stood at the end of the hallway with concern on her face. "Sir? Sir, are you alright?" She asked.

Darren nodded, "I'm fine. I got rid of that little infestation problem of yours."

She frowned, "Infestation?"

"You know what," Darren said, "You probably didn't know about it. Don't worry. It was paid for by your boss."

She shrugged, then awkwardly gestured forward, "I'm...gonna get to work."

Darren walked the other way, to the exit. He had to get out of there. The stuffy dusty corridors. Outside, Darren slowly sat on his motorcycle. He found himself scanning the area. Something was sending his senses crazy. Warning him something could be wrong. He was shivering. He drove away, feeling shook.

An hour later Darren was home. Or what he currently called home. A dinky apartment just off the highway. Four flights up, a floor above an old cat lady and a flight below a raging drunk. He had to go up the stairs to avoid the ghost haunting the elevator. That ghost's name was John. It had named itself that.

Darren collapsed on his bed. He had no wounds. No physical wounds. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep and have those same nightmares.

 

Edited February 2, 2023 by Gregorio

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

Reminder for Day 4

Spoiler

Dark Memory

 

[The cheeseman]

Day 4: Dark Memory.

Spoiler

The human mind is a fragile thing; a gray bundle of emotions, thoughts, and memories.

Ah, memory.

Sweet, beautiful, terrifying, debilitating memory. Without out it we would be animals, but with them, what we are is arguably worse.

We are human.

Think of it. To be human is to love, hate, rage, laugh, make friends, share moments; it is to fear, to cry, to wonder, to think, and at last to die.

Think of our worlds, our works. Think of our machines, of all that we have achieved simply by being human. When you look upon the history of the human race, though, what do you see, dear friend? The fear of that which we do not know. When, in all our lifetimes, have we encountered something strange and not feared it.

These memories fill the human mind. Memories of cities blasted from existence, memories of war, death, of annihilation simply because we did not understand. When you sift through the memories of mankind, your only thought should be what have we done?

For these memories bear a hatred, a stain darker than any other known. What. Have. We. Done. The terror of what was not known drove us to destroy every other thinking being in the entire galaxy besides ourselves. We spared no kindness towards those that were not our own. In all our years of civilization, what is everything united by? Hatred, death, genocide. It is the one constant in human history.

Our memory shows this.

Who are the most famous men? Gaius Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Octavian Augustus Caesar, Nero, Xerxes. All were conquerors.

What most do we remember? The Fall of Rome, the Punic Wars, the Age of Revolution, the World Wars. These are emblazoned on human memory like a brand on a bull.

What do we always reach for, but never grab hold of?

Peace, my friend. I know you think I'm a cynic, but it's true. After we destroyed all non-terrestrial life, our "peace" only lasted for a single generation before the Empire of Man was broken apart by a civil war.

The human mind is a dangerous thing; a gray bundle of anger, hatred, and memories.

 

[Lord Gregorio]

2 hours ago, phillycheesesteak said:

Day 4: Dark Memory.

  Reveal hidden contents

The human mind is a fragile thing; a gray bundle of emotions, thoughts, and memories.

Ah, memory.

Sweet, beautiful, terrifying, debilitating memory. Without out it we would be animals, but with them, what we are is arguably worse.

We are human.

Think of it. To be human is to love, hate, rage, laugh, make friends, share moments; it is to fear, to cry, to wonder, to think, and at last to die.

Think of our worlds, our works. Think of our machines, of all that we have achieved simply by being human. When you look upon the history of the human race, though, what do you see, dear friend? The fear of that which we do not know. When, in all our lifetimes, have we encountered something strange and not feared it.

These memories fill the human mind. Memories of cities blasted from existence, memories of war, death, of annihilation simply because we did not understand. When you sift through the memories of mankind, your only thought should be what have we done?

For these memories bear a hatred, a stain darker than any other known. What. Have. We. Done. The terror of what was not known drove us to destroy every other thinking being in the entire galaxy besides ourselves. We spared no kindness towards those that were not our own. In all our years of civilization, what is everything united by? Hatred, death, genocide. It is the one constant in human history.

Our memory shows this.

Who are the most famous men? Gaius Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Octavian Augustus Caesar, Nero, Xerxes. All were conquerors.

What most do we remember? The Fall of Rome, the Punic Wars, the Age of Revolution, the World Wars. These are emblazoned on human memory like a brand on a bull.

What do we always reach for, but never grab hold of?

Peace, my friend. I know you think I'm a cynic, but it's true. After we destroyed all non-terrestrial life, our "peace" only lasted for a single generation before the Empire of Man was broken apart by a civil war.

The human mind is a dangerous thing; a gray bundle of anger, hatred, and memories.

 

Interesting. I like it.

[Wittles]

On 2/2/2023 at 11:39 AM, phillycheesesteak said:

Day 4: Dark Memory.

  Hide contents

The human mind is a fragile thing; a gray bundle of emotions, thoughts, and memories.

Ah, memory.

Sweet, beautiful, terrifying, debilitating memory. Without out it we would be animals, but with them, what we are is arguably worse.

We are human.

Think of it. To be human is to love, hate, rage, laugh, make friends, share moments; it is to fear, to cry, to wonder, to think, and at last to die.

Think of our worlds, our works. Think of our machines, of all that we have achieved simply by being human. When you look upon the history of the human race, though, what do you see, dear friend? The fear of that which we do not know. When, in all our lifetimes, have we encountered something strange and not feared it.

These memories fill the human mind. Memories of cities blasted from existence, memories of war, death, of annihilation simply because we did not understand. When you sift through the memories of mankind, your only thought should be what have we done?

For these memories bear a hatred, a stain darker than any other known. What. Have. We. Done. The terror of what was not known drove us to destroy every other thinking being in the entire galaxy besides ourselves. We spared no kindness towards those that were not our own. In all our years of civilization, what is everything united by? Hatred, death, genocide. It is the one constant in human history.

Our memory shows this.

Who are the most famous men? Gaius Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Octavian Augustus Caesar, Nero, Xerxes. All were conquerors.

What most do we remember? The Fall of Rome, the Punic Wars, the Age of Revolution, the World Wars. These are emblazoned on human memory like a brand on a bull.

What do we always reach for, but never grab hold of?

Peace, my friend. I know you think I'm a cynic, but it's true. After we destroyed all non-terrestrial life, our "peace" only lasted for a single generation before the Empire of Man was broken apart by a civil war.

The human mind is a dangerous thing; a gray bundle of anger, hatred, and memories.

 

Nice and thought provoking. Awesome job

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

Oop

Days 5 and 6

Spoiler

Mischief achieved

Spoiler

The Uncounted Cost

 

[The cheeseman]

Day 6: The Uncounted Cost.

Spoiler

Horatio looked among the ruin of the field, a ruin wherein stretched, as far as could be seen, the remnants of his army. Ten thousand legions. One hundred million soldiers. Gathered from every corner of the world, every hamlet, town, city, and nation. Many were battle-hardened veterans with decades of experience in their scarred faces, many more were boys who had not yet reached their full manhood. One hundred million. An army that had spanned the horizons, an army that had followed him even unto the gates of hell, an army that had never faltered, even when they knew none of them would return home.

Humanity had been shattered.

Alsaed stood behind him, a smirk on his face as he, too looked over the field. Night was falling, but the wrack was illuminated by hundreds of thousands of fires. "Well, Dawnstrider, your defeat has come at last. You have been successful in destroying the pitiful thing you called an army, and now what is left for you? Surrender."

Horatio the Dawnstrider continued to stare at the ruins of his army, letting the moans and screams of the dying wash over his soul. His face bore the pain of it all. I have condemned my people to eternal slavery. He felt cold. Even in the middle of summer, he stood chilled to his bones. He would have cried, would have wept for the magnitude of his failure, shed unnumbered tears for the death of liberty, but no tears came.

For he still stood free. He still had a choice.

"Well?" Alsaed asked again, walking to stand beside the man once lauded as a hero. "Do you pledge yourself to me? All you need do is bow, and the suffering of man will end."

The words floated on the edge of Horatio's mind, and he paid them no heed. For the thought of his choice was as a spark in his heart, growing, seeking fuel. He had been chosen by the gods to once more imprison the Mighty Fallen, that most ancient demon who stood beside him, a smile on his face.

"What are you waiting for, human? Kneel and surrender!" The face of the devil began to change, growing rageful.

Through his sorrow, his pain and his loss, the Dawnstrider struggled out one quiet, monumentous word. "No."

"What was that?"

Horatio smiled, a sad, hopeful smile. "No."

"What! WHAT?!" Alsaed flew into a rage, spittle flying from his mouth as he screamed. "HOW CAN YOU STILL FIGHT! I HAVE ANNIHILATED YOUR ARMY, I HAVE KILLED YOUR WIFE, YOUR SONS, HOW DO YOU STILL REFUSE SURRENDER?"

"Because you know not what governs the hearts of men; and even if you did, deceiver, you could. Not. Give it." The spark burst into flame. "Here is your flaw, Lord of Torment, Lord of Hell, Lord of Nothing!" Now Horatio roared. "Humanity has always been free. Try to take that from them, and they will resist with every ounce of their strength. Until everyone of us has breathed our last, cursing your name as we fight, we will be free. Humanity has always loved. But you are a being of nought but hatred, and can neither give nor receive love. And so here I stand, and here, I will remain." With that the flames inside roared like a hundred winds and burned like a thousand suns, and he became the dawn.

A glittering, magnificent spear materialized in his hands as he roared again, thrusting it towards that most ancient evil. Alsaed screamed in rage as the spear's sun-white tip pierced his side, and he leapt into the air, hovering a few dozen feet above the ground.

Glowing, radiant, bright as the day, Horatio Dawnstrider rose into the sky; and what was dark became light, and the night became Dawn, his glorious spear held at his side. When he spoke, his voice boomed across the wrack of the battlefield like a thousand trumpets. "You have lost, as you have a thousand times past, and will a thousand times more. A thousand times a thousand." He felt the power of Ridhios, Firstborn of the Dawn, fill him. And in that moment, he knew what victory would cost.

With a shout, he flung himself through the air towards Alsaed and crashed into him like lightning.

And so they battled, man and devil, in the skies above the ruin of humanity. They battled for seven days and seven nights, and when Horatio's strength was all but spent, he dealt one last blow. A blow that bent reality with it's power, rendering the might of Alsaed nothing and sealing him to the abyss.

Landing softly on the ground, Horatio dropped to his knees, letting his sun-bright spear vanish. Looking around one last time, he saw the cost of victory. More than a hundred million dead, every nation laid waste. He was more weary at that moment than any other time in his life. His mouth dry, his eyelids heavy, he spoke one last time.

One quiet, undefeated sentence.

"Here I am, and here I will remain."

The cost paid beyond count, the victory achieved at long last, Horatio Dawnstrider passed on, into history, legend, and myth.

 

[Lord Gregorio]

Still just writing stuff on my world building project since its pretty much all I'm thinking about now.

Day 5: Mischief achieved

Spoiler

The rope broke. Ryan felt that familiar horror of having absolutely no control, then he hit the ground. His vision flashed and he wasn't able to breathe. His chest heaved, but he could not bring the precious air inside him.

Ryan rose from the ground coughing. Darn, he thought, that was stupid. That had been an old rope. It wouldn't carry him to the next floor. He'd seen the fraying bits, but had ignored it. He sneezed when he was finally able to breath. It was so dusty down here. Was there another way up there? There were no stairs, just a hole in the floor above. there must had been a ladder to a trapdoor before something had caused this hole.

Ryan began investigating the room. He should have done that before. Why had he just gone straight for the rope?

It was the hunt, he realized, I'm distracted. All he found were boxes. He found a bit of fuel he guessed was normally in the collapsed garage the room over. He soon found a box of matches...

Ryan frowned. Oh boy. He began dumping the fuel across the floor and walls. It didn't take long to empty it. It was always fire. Like he was supposed to commit arson every time he was hunting. It wasn't what he wanted to do. He enjoyed the close encounters much more. Why burn something when you could stick a blade in it?

The building burnt quickly, something inside it screamed. Ryan shook his head sadly. If only that rope hadn't broke. He could've been up there killing a vampire. Fate always forced him to take the less honorable way.

Day 6: The Uncounted Cost

Spoiler

It hurt so much. The rage trying to tear her inside out. Crawling its way up her throat. The chains bit deep as she tried to pull away. Why was she trying to get free? Had to hurt someone. Tear her claws through someone. The pain began to fade, but then it started up again. She felt her bones ache and her skin stretch. It was horrifying, to some part of her.

The main part of her felt some strange glee. Like what was happening was good, like it was healthy. All this power. It was inside her. With a roar she strained again against the chains. This time the giant wood beam the chains wrapped around creaked. She heard something deep inside the wood crackling like someone snapping a pencil. It drove her mad.

Who'd locked her up in here? Then she wasn't in control anymore. Her vision dulled and everything was a blurred shade of red. She was trapped inside this body that was her, but at the same time not her. She watched, feeling suddenly awake and aware that what was happening was not right. She shouldn't be like this. They'd said she would be healed. They had said she would be fine! She seethed with rage, but couldn't beat the floor in frustration. She couldn't do anything but think. It was such a weird sensation, like all her consciousness had gone to the eyes. She wasn't able to change where the eyes saw. It was like a movie, almost.

The chains broke.

It was seconds before the monster Idelle had become burst out of the storage and out into the dark forest. Idelle watched the surrounding forest blur past and lights, buildings, and cars came into view. Idelle began screaming. Maybe someone could hear her thoughts. Who knew what was going on in this world anymore.

 

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

Alright, here's the reminder for Day Seven and week two

Spoiler

Unknowable Depths

W2 Day 1

Spoiler

Powerful Nature

W2 Day 2

Spoiler

Incredible View

W2 day 3

Spoiler

Powers Emerging

W2 Day 4

Spoiler

Frontiers Unconquered 

W2 Day 5

Spoiler

Death Evaded

W2 Day 6

Spoiler

City of Thieves

W2 Day 7

Spoiler

Enveloping Darkness

 

[Lord Gregorio]

I was just about to complain about how I have a job and won't have time to do prompts when I realized I can do it during work, since my work isn't super work-full (however you say that).

[Eluvianii]

Against my better judgement, I'm gonna try to catch up with the first week. So.

Week 1, Day 1: Murmuring Crystal.

Spoiler

It was lonely.

It couldn't move so it couldn't meet any friends. It couldn't eat so it couldn't enjoy any tasty food. It couldn't breathe so it couldn't even prove it was alive.

But it could talk.

Or at least, it thought it could talk. It certainly thought it did so all the time, but truth be told, no one had ever talked back. It sometimes was afraid that it was all in its imagination and that it couldn't actually talk, so no one would ever hear it.

But it kept trying anyway.

It also observed the seasons. Since it couldn't move, the changing seasons were all the variety it could aspire to experience. Autumn was its favorite. The trees were pretty, the leaves were pretty. The children came to play among the leaves, autumn was a pretty busy season and it liked that.

It liked winter too. Everything was cold and the trees didn't have leaves anymore, so they looked very different from the rest of the year. It didn't like snow though. Snow covered it all over and it couldn't see anything around it until the snow melted so it thought snow was annoying.

Spring was nice too. It was the season when people started going out again, so it had more opportunities to try to talk to them.

Summer was its least favorite. People ran too much in summer, so it didn't have time to talk to them. Besides, since everyone ran around so much, they often kicked it and it went flying away. Sometimes they even picked it up and threw it around. It was grateful for the change of scenery, but it also thought those people were very rude.

One day, in autumn, it saw a kid. A little girl wearing a pink coat was playing around with a ball. She didn't run much, so it decided to talk to her.

"Hello!"

The girl stopped and looked around. Had she heard it? It would be trembling in excitement, if it could move.

But then her mother appeared, and it saw the little girl go away without even glancing in its direction. It felt very sad then. Another failure.

Then, next day, the same girl came back. She didn't have a ball now, and she seemed to be looking for something. She continued to do so for around an hour, before giving up and going away.

This became her routine. She would come and look for something for a while, then she would give up and leave. It observed her every day, wishing it could help her, but unable to talk to her.

After many days had passed and the girl didn't stop coming, it couldn't stop itself from asking.

"What are you looking for?"

The girl stopped in her tracks and looked around, like she had done that first day. Except this time she glanced straight at it. She ran over and started looking again, standing right over it.

It got excited once again, and asked, hopeful.

"Can you hear me?"

The girl looked down, knelt, and picked it up. She was staring at it intently.

"Are you the one that called me the other day?"

She could hear it!

"Yes! It was me. Hello again!"

"Are you a rock?"

"I think so. But I don't hear other rocks talking so I don't know."

"What's your name?"

"I don't have a name, I just am. What's your name?"

"Elly."

"Nice to meet you, Elly."

The girl then took it to a bench and they started talking. It couldn't stop itself once it started. It had wanted for so long to have someone to talk to. Elly didn't seem to mind either, she was fascinated by her new friend, and eagerly replied to every topic it brought up. After a while though, Elly had to go home.

It was suddenly very sad, but then Elly spoke up.

"Say, do you want to go home with me?"

It suddenly felt happier than it had felt in its entire life. It had made its first friend, and she wanted it to go home with her.

"Yes, I'd love to!"

"Awesome. Also, can I give you a name?"

It felt the urge to cry at that. It couldn't actually do it, but it had seen it before. It seemed appropriate now.

"Yes. Please."

"Then, ummm. I know! I will call you Crystal."

And so, Crystal went with a girl it could call friend, to a place it could call home. So for the first time and for the rest of its life, Crystal wasn't lonely.

Week 2, Day 2: Incredible View.

Spoiler

"I want to do magic" It had all started with that sentence.

Ryan stared out the window overlooking the city. His office was on the top floor, it was his building after all. It was a beautiful sight. So many lights, so many colors. Some were still, and some moved fast, leaving a trail behind them until they disappeared.

He had been swallowed by the sky. With stars above and below, he was drifting in space.

His breath obscured that view as he sighed. It had been a long time since he could see a landscape like this and actually enjoy it.

He had achieved his goal, he was bringing magic to people. Magic toys.

Shooting stars that you could release in your living room, creatures of all kinds roaming around your backyard, cars that felt like they were going at the speed of light, glasses that turned your room into a dungeon and the street into a forest full of monsters. Ryan was taking the dreams he had dreamed as a kid and making them into reality, for everyone to enjoy. Everyone except him.

When had been the last time he had made a toy? When had been the last time he had designed one? Once the company had started growing, he begun to spend less and less time in the design room, and more in his office, signing papers. Hiring other people to do the job he wanted for himself but didn't have time for anymore.

He continued looking down at the city, a taste of the magic he had given up, and remembered a similar view he had seen, so many years ago.

Living at the edge of the city, Ryan hadn't known the concept of a backyard. With no streets nearby, a huge field on the back, and a forest you could see from the window, Ryan grew up feeling as if the whole world was his playground. However, his parents had always told him to stay within view of the house. Wide as his playing grounds were, it would be all too easy to get lost.

As a kid, it was one of his favorite games to try and push that limit. First, he tried to see what was the farthest he could go while still being able to see the house. Then he would allow himself to go farther in, but he would mark the place from where he could go back and keep that in sight instead. He became quite skilled at this and soon could explore a large portion of the forest without getting lost.

He was no match for the darkness though.

One day he explored too far for too long. He didn't realize until it was too late that he could no longer see his last mark. He panicked, trying desperately to find something he could recognize. A tree, a rock, anything. But with each minute it only got darker and darker. Until finally, he couldn't see anything at all.

That's when it happened.

He was in a different place. Or rather, the place where he was had changed. He could see every rock and tree again, but the latter's leaves were glowing with a gentle blue light. Thousands upon thousands of little blue dots lighting his way forward, as if the stars themselves had decided to come down and guide him home.

It was suddenly very easy to find his way around, but now he didn't want to leave. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, nothing like any plants he knew, it was magic.

Of course it was. It was general knowledge that you could do great things with magic. Useful things. Most things at home from lights to the oven worked with magic, but Ryan didn't know it could be this beautiful. He wished he could take this landscape home with him. He wished he could make his own. Create his own little worlds he could play with at home.

"I want to do magic."

And the rest was history. One single misstep in the forest had decided the rest of his life. Years of study so he could create any marvel he could imagine, and share it with everyone. So why had he stopped?

Ryan realized he didn't have a good answer. He took one last look at the city and left his office, making a choice. How would the company stay afloat now? He'd figure it out. For now, he'd go home, sleep, and tomorrow when he came to work, he would go to the design room instead of that sterile office, wearing comfortable work clothes instead of that strict suit. He'd go to his real work place wearing his real uniform. To make some magic.

 

[Lord Gregorio]

Day 7: Unknowable Depths

Spoiler

Gary's hand slipped and plunged in the icy sea. He reared back, rubbing his hand on his jacket. Maybe getting his jacket wet hadn't been the right idea, but heck, that had been freezing! He began working the sail and turned to shore. That was enough fishing for today. He'd dealt with plenty bad luck for one simple trip. He noticed the sun was still visible, just above the mountains in the distance. Why was it so cold? Not only was the water cold, but now that Gary had stopped working hard, he realized the air was frigid. It was the afternoon, when working was the most terrible. Sun scorching and humid air assaulted you like some stubborn mosquito. A hundred mosquitoes.

He hurried to tie his small fishing boat as soon as he reached shore, not bothering to clean the fishing nets. Father would have killed him if he had been alive. Something strange filled the air. Gary would do the nets tomorrow and fish night instead if needed. Something was wrong. The waves moved in the most wrong of ways. Gary's seaman instincts told him to  cower. Like before a tsunami, Gary was doing his best to run. Though he knew not from what. He'd nearly reached the bar when someone stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. "Gary?" A gruff voice, spoken soft. Though it wasn't particularly soothing, Gary found some strange comfort in Ol' Man Tanner's presence, "You look like you've seen Moby Dick."

"I think the phrase says a ghost, Tanner, not Moby Dick," said Gary.

"Maybe, but I thought as a sailor, you'd appreciate the change."

I'm a fisherman, not a whale hunter. I've got a very small boat."

"Right, right," Tanner paused, searching Gary's eyes, "So, what did you see?"

Gary rolled his eyes, "I didn't see anything. It was cold and there weren't fish. There wasn't anything to see."

"Right. Then why is your face like a piece of parchment some seagull took a particularly undecent leak on."

Gary's mouth hung open and he sputtered, "What are you talking about old man?"

"Well, your nose, y'know. It's still less white than..."

"Alright, alright. It was just cold. My nose doesn't really get cold. I guess it's used to all that wind."

"Because it's so big it hangs out of your hood as you sail along..."

"I'm quite done with your mocking. I need a drink," Gary turned to go inside.

"Did you feel it, Gary? The chill?"

Gary ignored the old man and hurried inside, where the fireplace lit up the drunken faces.

~ ~ ~ ~

Gary stumbled out of the tavern, feeling less drunk than he had been. Somehow he felt perfectly sober. It made him angry. He'd had three...three something. How could he not remember what he had drunk? He must be mistaken, he had to be drunk. He was stumbling. His feet found it hard to push him forward. Stupid feet, weren't good for anything but getting you on your way. In your way. Either or.

Gary stopped on his way home and sat on someone's porch. It felt good to sit down and breath in the cool air. The sun was gone. The lamps shone on the wet pavement, a puddle reflecting Gary's shuddering face. If he'd looked like a seagull had let one loose on his face before now he looked like a container of salt. His cheeks were a little red. He had to get home and get some rest. He had to do something very important at sometime soon. He was sure it was important, he just couldn't remember...Gary set his chin in his palms and sat there, trying to remember what important thing he had to do. 

The lamp in front of the house Gary had found his rest stop at flickered out. Someone dumped a bucket of water on Gary and he sputtered to his feet, whirling to curse at whoever it had been like a true sailor.

Only then did Gary realize he hadn't been sober before. He couldn't tell what had woken him. The creepiness of the chill night air, the frigid sea water that had been mercilessly dumped on him, or the woman in front of him.

"Hello Hanna," Gary mumbled.

Hanna smiled sadly, "What are you doing here, Gary?"

Gary's eyes jerked from left to right, surveying her yard like he picked where to fish. Trying to avoid the bright glare of the sun when it came right down in that annoyingly bright way. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You're drunk, Gary."

Gary sentence reply trailed off.

"I asked you to not come back."

Gary looked down, at the spot where he'd placed a welcome mat for her a few months ago. It was empty now. Nothing but sea water. He couldn't remember that being. Right. "I know. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Almost unwillingly, Gary found his gaze travelling up the doorway. The side of it, with Hanna not quite in view. "You shouldn't be getting drunk, Gary. Go find something fun to do. Go visit your parents. Get away from the sea for a while."

Gary met Hanna's eyes. That chill filled him and he felt warmer than he had all day. It was always strange, looking into her eyes. Ice cold but warm at once. He wanted her to smile, to say something that didn't sound like she was disappointed. "Hello, Hanna."

She sighed, "Gary, I think I'm going to leave. This isn't healthy for you."

Gary blinked a couple times. It cleared away the salt in his eyes. Was he crying? Hanna had dumped water on him a moment ago. Why did she have salt water? "Mother's dead. She died last week. I went to her funeral. I've only gone fishing once since. I'm tired of the boat, Anna." He was crying. Sobbing now. He blubbered like some drunkard at the bar. He sort of was one of those drunkards, just at Hanna's doorstep instead of a bar.

"I'm sorry, Gary."

A moment passed that should have been awkward. Maybe it was for Anna, but Gary just swayed back and forth, his eyelids slowly closing. Anna was suddenly very close and she grabbed him with a wet and very cold hand. Gary's eyes snapped open and he found himself looking in the darkest eyes he'd ever seen. They weren't black really, from this close. They just seemed very, very deep. Like no matter how far you looked you could never see deep enough. It was the terror a sea-man encountered nearly every day and what Gary had been avoiding for months. He'd been avoiding this more than the ocean.

"You said you weren't willing before, are you now?"

Gary couldn't say anything. His mouth just hung open like a fishing net. He found his head nodding.

"I don't think you're sober enough to make life-changing decisions," Hanna let go and began to back away.

"I'm done here. You asked me almost two years ago if I'd be willing to abandon my life. I wasn't because I had a life. Now I've lost everything. I'll lose my boat soon. I don't think I can lose the sea. It might push me over the edge. If I'm not already falling."

Hanna met Gary's eyes again. This time her eyes reflected his. They seemed so shallow now. "Alright Gary. If you're sure. There's no going back on this. There's no cure."

"I'm sure. I want to travel, with you."

Hanna stood there a moment, almost unsure of what to do. Then she leaned forward and lightly kissed him. A small pain seemed to come from Gary's skin, then imploded until it hit somewhere near his middle and raced upward to his eyes. He passed out.

~ ~ ~ ~

Tanner stumbled on his way up the old stone road. He found it getting steeper and steeper every day. Bloody world was trying to kill him it was. Changing the structure of his childhood just to kill him. It seemed to take forever to finally reach the door. It was closed, of course. No one could leave their door open anymore. Tanner had expected less of Gary to be honest. He'd been drunk as a...as a. Well as something that was super drunk. The door was locked, but the key was taped to a piece of paper just above the doorknob. Scribbled by a very sober hand.

Goodbye Old Tanner.

Do not look too hard for me.

I'm out to sea.

- Gary

Tanner chuckled, shaking his head. He was one syllable off, almost a perfect Haiku.

I actually really liked writing this one. Very different than what I normally write.

Edited February 8, 2023 by Gregorio

[Eluvianii]

Week 2, Day 3: Powers Emerging.

Spoiler

The world hadn't changed.

It was the same as it had been six months ago. Back then plants grew, rain fell, and the sun and the moon rose and set.

Today, plants grew. They were a bit bigger sometimes, than they had been before. And if you had a picture to compare, you'd notice they were also a little greener. Some had even started looking like other colors.

Today, rain fell. And you could see a very faint white glow in it sometimes. Not always but it came increasingly often, and with increasing intensity. Though the change was so slow you wouldn't notice it while it was happening.

Today, the sun and moon rose and set. And as they did you could see an array of colors in the sky that wasn't there before. The change between day and night and night and day turned the sky into a rainbow.

So the world hadn't changed, but it was changing. It had changed, but it was the same.

The forests made sounds that had never been heard before, the grass moved when there was no wind. Outside there were lights where the sun wasn't shining, and if you paid attention you'd find shadows pointing the wrong way. If you took a walk you'd hear passerby greeting you, except the street was empty, and you'd feel a sea breeze in the middle of the continent.

Emma didn't know where this change would lead, but she knew nothing could stop it. The very nature of the world was changing, and you couldn't stop nature. Everyone noticed the change, though most pretended not to. If you said anything they'd rudely reply you were imagining things, while trembling in fear on the inside.

Not Emma though. This change was frightening but also beautiful. Alien but also natural. It was unstoppable so why deny it? Besides, everything was the same. The wind still blew and rivers still flowed. People still went to school and to work, to restaurants and to the park. Friends and families were the same. Everything was different but nothing had changed.

And also, the world around her wasn't the only thing that was changing. She was changing too.

"Em!" she heard a familiar voice calling her as she walked to school.

Lily was wearing the same uniform as her. Emma could see tiny specks falling from her hair and clothes as she ran towards her. She knew that wasn't dust or dirt. Dirt didn't glow.

"Hey, Lily. You were almost late again."

"Yeah, I don't even try anymore. Barely on time works just fine for me." said Lily, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Emma saw a small ball of fluff walking over Lily's head, the source of the dust probably. It seemed to be patting her head as if congratulating Lily for a good run. Lily didn't seem to notice. Emma didn't tell her either, she'd probably freak out.

That was the change Emma had been going through. She was slowly becoming able to see these... things. It happened rarely at first, and back then they were barely the size of bugs. But now she could see them all the time, and as time passed bigger ones were appearing.

She wasn't scared of this either. If the world was changing, changing herself seemed only natural. And she wasn't the only one. All over the place you could find people seeing things. Hearing things. Doing things. And yet, they were all still living their lives. Day to day, in the same way as before. Just like Emma was now.

"Are you ok now?"

"Yeah. Just a second." Lily took a water bottle from her backpack and took a long drink before straightening herself up. "Ok, I'm good. Let's go."

And so they went to school, just like any other day. Just like they had been doing six months ago. Because the world was changing, but it was still the same. Because Emma was changing, but she was still the same. She wondered how her life would continue to change in the future, she wondered what sorts of amazing things she would see next.

Maybe fairies would appear in every forest and dragons in every castle. Maybe she would find a tiny city under a bridge or giant serpents flying among the clouds. She was excited, but she was also calm. Because no matter how many things changed, she was also convinced everything would, deep down, stay the same.

 

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood]

Week 3 prompts

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day one

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Deafening Silence

Day 2

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They can't be gone

Day 3

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Children are Tyrants

Day 4

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Powerful forces

Day 5

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Flight

Day 6

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Magic is science

Day 7

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I was the hero, not the villain