Emptober Day 29: Weeping

The guardian of Sanctuary was friendly. He always had a smile on his face, and he made himself a friend and protector to everyone. He was happy. He was welcoming to these new friends, these hermits, that needed a home, and the woman who looked strangely like his patron saint and he was most certainly not crying-

Having a moment alone to himself, he knelt down on the floor of the cathedral and tried his best to keep his voice steady. To no avail.

"Santa Perla.. I don't know what to do anymore.." His head was spinning as he gripped the hardwood beneath him. "I'm lost, I'm- I'm scared.. Things are just getting worse, and it seems like I'm losing it... This woman-... she looks just like you.. she says she's not- I believe she's not but..." He sighed and gripped at his hair. What was he thinking? Santa Perla had given him everything. The very grounds that Sanctuary was built upon were blessed by her. He considered himself one of, if not the most devout believers in Santa Perla.

And yet his faith was being questioned by a woman in a sunflower dress who happened to be named Pearl. She was no saint. She was just a cleaning lady, she'd said so herself. Not Saint.. Just Pearl.

There was no Saint Pearl here.

What if she wasn't real? What if these instances of her help, her presence, was just coincidence and hallucination? What if everything he knew was a fucking lie.

There was... music. There was music filling the cathedral. What...

Wherever that music was coming from, it was definitely a hallucination. There was no one there with him, it was just him in the church. But the piano music sounded faded. Far off, like it was in some kind of memory. If it were a memory, that would explain how he knew the words, despite him being almost positive he'd never heard this song in his life.

"Maybe there's a God above.. But all I've ever learned from love, was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.. And it's not a cry that you hear at night.. It's not somebody who's seen the light- It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah!"

His voice broke into a louder sob, choked and weak, painfully wracking his chest. He'd cried plenty of times in his life. He'd cried hard when his mother died, he'd cried worse when the village went up in smoke. But he hadn't cried this hard in so long.. He'd forgotten what it felt like.

What was he thinking... He was questioning Santa Perla, in her own fucking cathedral. He was crying like a man who'd lost his faith.

Faintly, there were phantom hands on his back, a comforting embrace at his front. And logically, there was nothing there. He knew there was nothing there.

"You're okay, mi hijo.. you are okay.." A comforting voice spoke to him.

A soft chant filtered the air.

"Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah.."

"You will be okay, Sausage..." The voice spoke again. There was a phantom kiss pressed to his head, almost soothing, as the man's sobs dulled slightly.

Was it real? Was it some kind of hallucination?

He had no idea. But it comforted him. That was enough.

Emptober Day 27: Mystery

There was a newcomer to the world of Empires. Fifteen strangers had come through the rift, some excited, some nervous, some flat out confused. None of them gods. At least, they didn't think so. Pearl had some mild confusion about her, but she couldn't be a god. She was just a cleaning lady. Right?

Then there was a new presence, in Dawn. A shiny coated, wide-eyed, smiling presence. The smile seemed friendly enough, looking at it straight on. It looked like any other smile to Gem.

"Hello!" It called out cheerfully. "What's your name?"

"Gem!" The princess of the sun replied with a smile of her own, warm and welcoming. The new figure smirked.

"Gem, of course. My child of light. I'm the god of the sun, and of sleep."

The god of the sun. See, Gem's people in Dawn worshiped the sun, that much was true. But it never had a name to attach to it. Maybe that was why there was a hint of skepticism in her when the supposed deity told her his title.

See, it wasn't completely out of the ordinary for gods to announce themselves and their presence. Hell, Joel made his presence quite known. But there was something off about this one. Even still, who was Gem to question what the sun wanted.

The god of the sun said he wanted a church built to him, she built a church to him. That seemed to make another certain god upset.

"Dear Gem," The letter started, already a start that the sun princess was dreading. It droned on and on for a few pages, about how nice of a god he was, and why didn't she build a church for and worship him (in Gem's opinion, worshipping friends, which she considered Joel to be, was a bit odd in itself). But a few pages after it, behind the façade of bravado and arrogance, laid the true reason for this letter.

"In all seriousness, are you alright? Things seem a little off. If you need me to come take care of it, I will.", she read, and tossed the letter almost instantly. Everything was fine. Why would it not be? There was no need to worry!

Something compelled Joel to make Hermes a special present that afternoon. A little iron necklace in the shape of a lightning bolt, which the little child absolutely loved. He showed it off to everyone who passed by, especially when he went to Sanctuary to stay with his other parent. Though, in staying with Sausage, that made the guardian of Sanctuary question some things. Namely, the iron. If Joel were to make someone a gift, and it weren't a toy, it would be made of gold. Sausage had the mini Stratos-sphere to prove that much. But iron? Something was up. So he whistled for a bird friend to tell him what was going on. Birds always had the most interesting of gossip.

And that gossip is what had his typical sunshiny disposition turn cloudy. Keralis paused his conversation with the allay to take a look at their host, squinting a little.

"Hey- Daddy sausage!" He called out and waved him over. "What's gotcha looking so down, sweet face?"

"Nothing, nothing.." Sausage waved a hand dismissively and tried to smile. "Just... there's a new god in Dawn, and it's not sitting right with me. They said he's called Bdubs, or something..?"

"Bdubs?" Keralis snorted, trying his best not to laugh. "There's no way. He's just some little guy. Everyone's little guy! He wouldn't be some kind of god or anything."

"You know what they say, mi amor." Sausage shook his head. "Beware the little ones.."

That comment made Keralis stop. Could it really be possible? For Bdubs to be some kind of god in this world? Or at the very least to declare himself a god. Why not ask the lore man about it! The lore man might know something!

So Keralis resolved himself to ask Pix the next day, finding the strange man somewhat in recovery, from the loss of his deepslate emerald ore. He could take time out of his grief to speak with Keralis though. Wasn't that thoughtful?

"There's some kind of god in Dawn? Or at least, he says he's one." Keralis tried to explain. "I don't know if he really is a god."

"Well, there's many different possibilities." Pix hummed in thought. "He could've became a god in his arrival to this world. You said the rift is closed.. If it were, how would he have gotten in? He also could be creating a cult."

"If he were, he wouldn't put himself as the leader.." Keralis shook his head. "I dunno... it's weird. It's like we're seeing a new side to him."

"Apotheosis can often be revealing. Just like power."

"Apothe... what?"

"Apotheosis." Pix brushed his hands off and stood to fix the glass casing, which previously held his beloved emeralds. "Or deification. Turning or declaring someone a god."

"Right..." Keralis nodded slowly, laughing to himself under his breath. "It's so weird seeing Bdubs like this. I'm used to him just being the little guy."

"Bdubs?" That made the archeologist turn to look at the hermit, who just stared back in confusion, wide eyes unblinking.

"Uh.. yeah? That's who it is. It's so weird, seeing him sorta "become" a god. Why?"

"It's just odd... I don't think the fae can become gods."

Emptober Day 26: Blunt

It was obvious. Becoming increasingly clearer by the day. Shelby was doing her best to ignore it, pass the days by and try her to prove herself, just in case of that fateful day.

But to put things bluntly, she was in deep shit.

The letters from the witch academy were one thing, she could quickly dispatch of those with the lava from the nether. However, the signs? The cryptic messages and the damn ghost? She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

She paced around her little tower and huffed softly, running her hands through her hair and knocking her hat astray. "Ohhh- this isn't good- this isn't good..."

A croak from near her sounded. She looked up. Tortoise.

"There's no need to be sarcastic, I know I'm just stating the obvious. But- still- I just.. I don't know what to do!"

Another croak.

Shelby huffed again. "Yeah- I could talk to the other rulers, but- what would they think of me?! I- I'm practically a criminal!"

Tilt of a head, more of an inquisitive croak.

"Tortoise, don't act like you don't know! I- I'm on the run from the witch academy- I should be on the train home! No- I should be home!"

Tortoise gave her a look, almost to say "but you're not", Shelby burying her face into her hands with a groan.

"I know- that's the issue, Tortoise! I'm not home- that's the problem! I- I'm breaking the law here!"

A groaning croak. Almost scolding.

"You're right.." she let out a sigh. "I'm sorry for yelling. I just-... I don't know what to do now.."

Tortoise hopped over towards the sunflower outside of Shelby's tower.

"Wh-.. what are you looking at?" Shelby followed him curiously and peeked out of the window, her eyes widening in realization. "Oh no-no, no no no no, I'm not going to Katherine about this-"

Tortoise croaks out a vague question, which Shelby identifies as a "Why not".

"Because! What- what if she gets hurt because of me! What if everyone does?! No- no no no no no, Shelby Marie Spellman you are not going to think about that- you're not gonna do that to yourself. Everything's going to be fine." Shelby finally took a minute to breathe and stop pacing, not even realizing that she was making herself dizzy. She leaned against the wall and sighed, hand to her head and adjusting her hat. "It'll be fine.. I'll keep ignoring it like I have been, and it'll be fine!"

Tortoise gave her a dead stare.

"Oh don't give me that." Shelby forced out a grin. "Everything's gonna be fine, you'll see!"

To put it bluntly, Shelby was fucked. She knew that.

She also knew she was going to put it off for as long as possible.

Emptober Day 31: Sneak

Sometimes, Hermes sneaks out of his room in Stratos and looks up.

His dad wouldn’t like this. Perhaps because Hermes likes to climb upon the highest spire and look up to the stars as the moon follows its usual path. He doesn’t know what exactly attracts them to these many pretty lights.

He can see them just as well in Sanctuary. In the jungle, he often has someone else around or near him. He does not have a chance to sneak out when anyone else was closed by. Maybe one day he will manage to climb atop the cathedral of Santa Perla to watch the stars.

Truth is,  he is closer to these stars in Stratos. And, unlike the village, the floating set of temples are largely abandoned. Only his dad roams around the area, and even then things are very quiet at night. Nobody is around to scold him for climbing so high, nobody tells him its wrong to be in such a dangerous position, only to be close to the stars.

Once, Hermes fell. It was just once, from a short distance, and he sustained no lasting injuries, but it did open him up to interesting questions. He watched the stars as he fell, which conjured quite an existential question, which he promptly forgot as he scrambled back to his feet.

When the stars have descended on the world, what do you see when you look up?

The question hasn’t crossed his mind since. Instead, he continues to sneak out of bed to look up at the stars and maybe also wonders when his dad would find out about his night-time activities.

Emptober day 30: Round

Pixlriffs really should invest in a clock.

It wasn’t that he desperately needed one – these days, he spent almost all of his time underground, restoring this ancient copper aging machine to its full potential and cleaning up the cavernous area it had been built in. No, he didn’t need one – though it would be good to have one. He’d at least know what time it was.

He wouldn’t see the hands of the clock move at all; he’d have to assume they went around and around, always making the same circle. Even then, if he watched the clock, how was he supposed to know what time it was exactly? Two at night and two at noon were quite different, especially when the mobs came out at night. He shouldn’t blindly trust what those hands say, for he could always have forgotten whether it was supposed to be nighttime or daytime.

Still, maybe he should invest in a clock. It might remind him to take more frequent breaks and not to be too caught up in his work from time to time.

Emptober Day 25: Color

Magic is always in the air. Whether it's the glow of enchanted items, or the flicker of the great witch's magic wand. The great Stratos-Sphere, or the amethysts in the crystal gardens. Scott could see all sorts of magic. Strong and bright, soft and full of potential, friendly and warm, or harsh and bitter. There was all kinds of magic in the air, glowing all sorts of different colors.

There was a brilliant purple coming from Shelby's wand. Strong, full of locked potential. He knew she was a powerful witch, good at her craft. She just had to be given the right tools. And honestly, with the way education systems were, he could understand why hers was a little out of control. All the same though, it was soft, and friendly. She meant no real harm by it, she just wanted to help. He could respect that.

Brilliant golds shined from the God of Stratos. Honestly, Scott started to regret being neighbors with him at this point. Was it really worth the headache he woke up to every day? At least he had a good deal with Shelby going on, healing potions for dyes, so he wouldn't have to suffer the whole day. The God had magic coursing through every inch of him, and there were a lot of inches to run through. Similarly, Hermes glimmered with a similar golden color, though his was much softer and dimmer. Not quite as powerful as his father, but full of the potential to be something great, Scott just knew it.

The world around Chromia was full of colorful magic as well. The flowers that grew on Chromia's soil would never wilt, and would always glow their particular colors. Blue for the cornflowers, purple for the alliums, pink for the peonies and tulips, Scott loved them all. He loved all of the colors that bloomed about Chromia, even the vibrant blue of the sky.

But about now, the sky had turned a bright purple, if only for a split second. Scott was certain he wasn't going crazy. He couldn't have been. Right? The llamas saw it!

"You saw that, right?" He asked Comet as he placed her new nametag over her neck. "That wasn't just me?"

Comet vaguely nodded, but Scott could tell what she meant almost immediately.

"Okay- so I'm not going mad. Right.. What the hell was that?"

"Oh my gosh look at all the colors!"

Hold on. Scott paused, taking a step further up the path from the llama gardens as he saw a woman. Or at least, he thought he did. It was honestly hard to see, what with the blinding golden light emanating from her. He shielded his eyes with his hat, squinting as he tried to get the stranger's attention. "H- Hello?"

"Hello!" The woman called back cheerfully. Good, there was definitely someone there.

"Chromia doesn't normally get visitors,, who are you?"

"Well- okay,," She cleared her throat. "There's a giant group of us, we went through a portal, we got separated, and now I'm here!" She said simply, as if coming through the rift and being teleported from your group was a regular occurrence.

"Y- You mean the rift?"

"I guess so!"

"Okay- hold on-" He pulled his hat down over his face. This seemed to be the only way he could talk to her without blinding himself. "How many of you are there?"

She laughed. "Oh gosh- uh... I've got no idea, I'll be honest."

"Right.. well, let's see if we can find your friends."

"Good idea!"

He gestured for her to follow him, pulling his hat back to its original position now that he wasn't staring down the sun herself. The two walked until Scott could hear a familiar voice. That bard, of course it's that damn bard.

"Scott!" Oli called out cheerfully. "I've brought you a Joe!"

A joe. That's who that was.

"Oh I know a joe- Joe!" The woman(scott only just realized he forgot to ask for her name) said excitedly.

And once Scott looked up properly, he could see them. "Joe", as they were called. A strange shadow surrounded them. Murky and dark, Scott could hardly tell what their deal was. Usually he used the whole "magic seeing" thing as a vibe check. But this,, he couldn't quite tell what this gray aura meant. And neither could he with the golden glow of the new woman. She glowed like a deity, but made no claim to be one herself. Nothing like Joel, who made sure everyone within a ten mile radius knew he was a god. But she said nothing. So he didn't know.

If he couldn't rely on what he knew, then what could he rely on?

And that brings the end of Emptober 2022! What was your favourite prompt? What was your favourite fic/art? (can be your own! be proud of yourself for crunching through a month!)

I will still be checking the tags every now and then if anyone posts any late creations but until next year folks!

-Mod has left the game.

Day 31: Sneak

They crouch behind rocks and tiptoe quietly across the sensitive blue fungi, careful not to activate the sensors. Flinching at every sound they make and every bat screech echoing through the caves, it's only a matter of time until one of them closes a chest a little *too* loudly.

A shriek pierces their ears as their vision goes dark. One down. Two more to go.

Day 30: Round

The empires watch their clocks anxiously. Round and round the hands go. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The rift will activate any day now.

Day 23 - Tooth

Sausage’s ear flicked against Jimmy’s chest rhythmically. It always made an interesting sound when it hit the scales dotted along Jimmy’s gill area—not quite a chink but not a thump. The sound grew ever more curious when it hit the tooth hanging on Jimmy’s chest—a hard kind of thump but with a hollower fwip and the slightest hint of a chink. It almost sounded like a beat, the occasional pause before his ear flicked again, striking either a scale or the tooth; repeating over and over again in some sort of melody that he couldn’t even try to pin down.

He had a lot of time to think about it—it was a slow day, where all he and Jimmy did was sit on the Codland walls; available should an emergency arise but not easily disrupted. The guards of the walls had left a while ago; rarely patrolling the Mythland border anymore since… well, since he and Jimmy got together, really. They’d never officially said anything, or made any claims, but it was undeniable that something was going on. Sausage liked to imagine that this something was love, though he’d never dare say it out loud. It’s funny—they’d kissed so many times now, clearly flirted, and had some of the most domestic moments he’d ever read about in books, and he wouldn’t even dare to call what they had love. Then again, he was a coward in the worst kind of way and would rather jump off the wall into the ravine than ask Jimmy what he thought about it all.

Really, even now—his head was snuggled up to Jimmy’s chest, listening to his every breath and heartbeat; his arms encircled the cod-hybrid, barely able to connect against his back, and he was so far intertwined with Jimmy that any attempts to stand up would prove to be entirely ineffective and more entangling. He turned his head abruptly, burying his face in deeper into Jimmy’s chest. The tooth pressed annoyingly against his forehead, but he ignored it in favor of the comfort it brought him to breathe in Jimmy’s scent. Jimmy responded with a soft hum, webbed fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair. It was an odd sensation in the best kind of way, and he couldn’t resist letting a purr slip out. Jimmy chuckled at that, adjusting them ever so slightly and bringing his other arm down to wrap around Sausage’s waist.

There was nothing Sausage could want more than this—a quiet day with his… partner? Let’s go with that—with nothing to do and nothing to say; nothing at all but the soft presence of the other. Sausage pushed his head deeper into Jimmy’s chest, grumbling slightly when the tooth began to dig into his forehead. He pulled back in a disgruntled sort of way, losing all the words on his tongue when he caught sight of Jimmy’s amused expression. Jimmy looked glorious, an easy smile that make Sausage’s heartbeat double and affection in his eyes that would’ve make Sausage trip over his feet if he’d been standing. Jimmy’s scales shown in the evening sun, sparkling in a mesmerizing way, calling him to trace the outlines of each and every one.

Jimmy’s hand slipped down from Sausage’s hair to cup his cheek, letting out a contented sigh when Sausage melted into his hand. Jimmy’s other arm tightened around his waist, pulling him closer if that was even possible. Sausage’s eyes begin to droop again, tempting him back into the comfortable silence and cuddling. He was about to lean back into Jimmy’s chest when he realizes that his lips are moving and he’s saying something. “Wha’s the tooth f’r?” He slurred, lips clumsy and slow as his head thudded into Jimmy’s chest.

Jimmy chuckled, raising his hand back up to play with Sausage’s hair. “If I say ‘because it looks cool’, will you accept that?” One glance at Sausage’s unimpressed face dispels this idea, and Jimmy sighs with exaggerated exasperation. “It’s symbolic, I guess. Kind of like how you have raven and crow feathers for earrings; except… different. Well, that was a waste of words,” Jimmy interrupted himself, rolling his eyes jokingly. “It’s… well, when I first came here, to the Codlands, there was this… huge codfish. Surprising, I know. But this one wasn’t nice and awesome and handsome, like me.” Jimmy flashed Sausage a charming smile, causing Sausage to turn his head to hide his blush. He wouldn’t give Jimmy the satisfaction of agreeing—though he’s sure Jimmy already knew that he did. “The fish was terrorizing the townspeople—not one could fish or scavenge the seabed or grow water crops or even have water to drink. So… well, I was new. I was small—well, small compared to me now, but still average height to everyone else—and it reminded me of the salmon. It was a big bully, and I hated that. I couldn’t remember why then, but I know now…” Jimmy’s eyes grew cloudy for a second before he remembered where he was. “Anyway, it had just bit one of my friends who tried to protect some overly curious children, and she was screaming and bleeding, and I thought… well, what right does that fish have to do that? So I walked into the water, rolled up my sleeves, and started to tussle with it. My friend nearly lost their mind. She thought I was an idiot. Started yellin’ at me and everything. I went down under the water, and when I came up, I was dragging its carcass and I was holding its tooth in my hand. I’d ripped it straight out and stabbed the fish with it. Everyone was shocked. Thought I was the second coming of the Ocean Queen—I guess I was, in a way. I was her little brother, though I didn’t know that then. Anyway, they elected me leader of the Codlands on the spot. And then… here I am today!” Jimmy’s statement ended in a chortle, smiling bittersweetly into the distance.

“Huh,” Sausage comments, eyes squinting up at Jimmy. “That’s epic.” His eyes slip closed again as he leans into Jimmy, the smell of brine and fish imprinting themselves in his nose.

“That’s all you have to say?” Jimmy sputtered, staring down at Sausage in disbelief. “You ask for a story, sit here listening intently, and that’s all you have to say?!”

“M’already knew you were really strong. I’ve seen you help me an’ my citizens unload the ships. You carry f’ve of those boxes at a time, ‘s very impressive,” Sausage yawned against Jimmy’s chest. “An’ you’re very pretty doing it. M’bet you looked hot when you killed it, that’s prolly why they ‘lected you,” he slurred.

Jimmy stuttered, face going a bright red as it was his turn to look away. “You’re a flatterer, Sausage. You’re just trying to rile me up.”

“It’s true,” Sausage insisted, raising a hand to stoke Jimmy’s cheek scales. “You’re gorgeous.” Sausage’s expression faded into a lovestruck gaze as he stared up at Jimmy.

“You—I—you’re a silly orchid,” Jimmy sighed, hands moving to rest one either side of Sausage’s face.

“But you love me!” Sausage countered gleefully, the words already out before he realized what he’d said. He opened his mouth again to fix the statement, to reword it until it didn’t hit the unseen nerve, but was stopped when Jimmy’s fingers slipped down to his chin. Jimmy stared at him a moment longer, expression unreadable before it softened into gentle adoration.

“I do,” Jimmy sighed, leaning forward to kiss Sausage. His lips were soft if cracked from the salt water; the inexplicably enthralling taste of codfish drawing him in as he kissed back. Jimmy’s hands were warm against his cheeks, holding his head in gentle and cradling hands, holding him as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?

Day 22 - Key

It was a special day today. Scott had picked out the perfect outfit to wear—his vest, but not the patchy one he wore usually—and he’d kill anyone who called it patchy, even if he had to admit that it was—this one was nicer; a tie-dye he’d done with some of the farmer children of Chromia. They’d had so much fun doing it with him, and it was one of those moments when he felt so drawn to the place, when he felt like this was where he was supposed to be.

It was sort of symbolic, actually. Today, of all days, he was wearing things to remind him of this place, things that fit here, in his new home. His perfectly pressed vest was only one of these things. His trousers had been made by the sweet tailor who ran the orphanage, paying for its fees using the profits she made off of sewing clothes. Scott—though he’d never grown up in an orphanage himself—could easily imagine how he could’ve, could easily imagine how desolate it would have been; at least, back in his old home. His neck and arms were strewn with nonsensical items and bracelets that he’d been given, no monetary value to them but they meant the world to him nonetheless.

He’d chosen to wear them, because today—today—he was elected leader of Chromia. He was elected leader of this place he loved so much, that he had help build up and made strong. He’d spent weeks repairing the barn and constructing the windmill and extending the farms, doing everything he could for the kind people who lived here. He’d sent the other empires who tried to take over this place away, creating an alarm system and militia that didn’t detract from the peacefulness of the empire. And even if they weren’t too open to outsiders, to the people who lived here, it was like a dream. Sprawling parks and ponds; the lovely town square that he’d built up for them; the slums, transformed into a sprawling village of quaint cottages, were built up to house all the residents of the empire, great or small, rich or poor (not that there were any rich people here), fit or frail. His empire was for all his people, regardless of social status or profession.

And maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration to call Chromia an empire, but he felt in his heart that it was the right word for what he was building here. This was an empire, just not a flashy one like all the other kingdoms. Here they were humble and kind and down-to-earth, just as they were stubborn and hot-headed and fierce. They would not allow anyone to order them around or devalue what they were building.

And today… today he made a commitment. He wasn’t good with those: he often made promises he couldn’t keep, running away in the night to the next place without even a goodbye. He never said he’d stay for as long as he’d been running for. But here… here he felt it was right. He wanted to stay here, wanted to help these people.

And so, after the elections had run, he’d been unanimously elected mayor (except for that one man down the street who thought Scott was an annoying whipper-snapper with his blue hair and obnoxious accent, the one who thought Scott didn’t belong here. And maybe he’d didn’t, but he’d prove that he deserved to be here, that he could rule wisely and kindly), and today was his ceremony. The humor of this wasn’t lost on him; all the other times he’d caused such a fuss it was because he’d staged a coup or deposed the snobby nobles of a place. This was different, though. Today, he was being given the key to Chromia—even if the key was mostly symbolic and unlocked no actual building in the city. As Scott had learned, it was the sentiment that mattered.

Scott had learned a lot here. Usually he was brash and loud and annoying, doing whatever he would with little thought to what was best for others. He was still all of that, but now he felt he had a purpose. A place to come home to, a place where he’d be welcomed. He was no longer running from town to town, hiding from rulers and furious leaders who wanted him dead, no longer wandering aimlessly without any true destination.

The ringing of a goat horn snapped him out of his thoughts. It was time—time for him to walk down the road to the flower farm, a symbol of Chromia’s revived economy. He would stand on the steps as an elder of the village handed him the key, and then he’d have to make a speech. Something inspiring, something to assure the people he was the right choice, that he would protect them. He raised himself up, straightening out the collar of his vest and squishing down any insecurity that threatened to rise. He’d never been nervous before, and he wasn’t going to start now.

He smiled and waved and greeted and talked to his people as he passed them in the street, smiling and hugging and joking with them. He knew he had to make it to the flower farm, but the leader of Chromia would always have time for his people. He only drew away when he reached the steps, walking up them with only the slightest hesitation in his walk.

The elder smiled at him, but he couldn’t relax. For the first time in his life he felt nervous, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t afraid—he’d been afraid plenty of times before—but this quiet uncertainty made him feel out of place. The frantic beating of his heart drowned out all the words that were spoken; his attention only drawn back to the present when the elder extended his hands to him, and Scott instinctively reached his hands out as well, taking the key into his own grasp.

The key was not what he’d expected—he hadn’t expected it to be gold or anything fancy, of course; Chromia was too poor for that—but the key had none of the life and color of Chromia. It was cold and lifeless iron, obviously made from leftover scraps of lanterns. It was too large to be useful but too small to be impressive, and it represented none of what he’d seen in Chromia. It made sense—they couldn’t afford to have a key like that! How would they even put color in a key? Gemstones?—but it felt so out of place here, and so demeaning. He raised his head, offering the elder a shaky smile and turning to greet his people. This was where he was supposed to make his speech, telling his people how he was going to build up their empire and make them great; how he was going to lead them to victory. His mouth was dry, and he couldn’t seem to think of any rousing words he could use to raise confidence in his people.

Maybe he didn’t need a speech. His actions had shown everything he’d meant so far—why should he give an articulate speech to win them over? What purpose would that have?

With the blood of his father rushing through his veins and a heart for his new home beating rapidly in his chest, he came down the steps, scooping up the small girl who stood there, watching him with wide eyes. He gave her the key and hoisted her over his shoulders, raising his hands authoritatively. “For Chromia!” He called, not sure exactly what was for Chromia, but feeling the words bubble up in his chest until he could no longer repress him. His citizens erupted in frenzied cheering, his own energy and vitality spreading to them as he stood. They closed in on him, lifting him over their shoulders in a wave of joy and color and life.

Scott had never been so happy to be alive.

What use did he have for a key when he had this?

Emptober day 29: Star

The stars looked different.

Not that Impulse saw the stars too often. With a friend like Bdubs, it was almost impossible to gaze upon the night sky without the mage wishing the night away. Still, those few times Impulse wasn’t underground and caught underneath the night sky - sometimes, he forgot how beautiful it could be -, he took a moment to look up and watch as the moon passed by the stars, stationary as ever.

‘Empires’, they called these lands. The strange lady who lived among bipedal animals seemed nice; the goblin seemed nice. The colorful man, archaeologist and monster hunter seemed nice. Everyone seemed nice, their bases - empires, countries, whatever they called it - just as impressive as the personalities of those who founded them. Impulse wouldn’t want to be a bother to any of them; founding their own small hermit settlement seemed like the perfect opportunity to start; a place to stay until they find a way home.

Home… in the safety of torchlight, Impulse gazed upward. The moon was on its usual trajectory, but the stars were wrong. They formed different kinds of constellations, and no matter how Impulse positioned himself, the patterns did not resemble what he was used to. It was a strange experience, to look at the stars and see something different than expected.

He wasn’t home anymore. The realization hadn’t hit him until this very moment. Even the stars looked different and a sense of heaviness descended upon him.

He stared until he fell asleep by the campfire.

Day 29: Star

It was a cloudless night tonight, leaving Oli with a full view of the stars above. How many are there? One, two, three... forty-five... ninety-seven... never mind. How many worlds are out there?

...

Oli doesn't bother trying to count.

Emptober day 28: Weeping

Sausage extended a shaky hand to the mural, his fingers brushing the cracked wall. Some of the paint flaked off, dry to the touch. He lifted his head to look at the face of la madre de girasoles.

The mother of sunflowers. He wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be other than a goddess. Maybe she watched over nature, maybe over harvest - he didn’t know where that last thought came from, but it felt right. Just like it felt right that his gaze was drawn to her eyes, still untouched by time. A pair of brilliant eyes that seemed to follow him around the room. Not in a malicious way, though - almost as though she was watching over him, like any mother would. Like any friend would, covering him with a mantle of protection.

He wasn’t sure when he started to weep. He only knew his knees gave way. He sat there on his knees, at the base of the mural, his gaze upon her visage, tears streaming down his face. Time passed and yet it stood still. His mind in turmoil, his heart at ease. He found her. By the gods, he’d finally found her.

He did not know her.

He ought to know her. It feels like she knows him, so why shouldn’t he know her?

Why didn’t he know her?

He remained in that position until he had no more tears left to cry and his legs regained their strength.

Day 28: Weeping

Sausage was thrilled at the arrival of new people! Jevin and Keralis, as strange as they were ("What's a YouTube?") were excellent additions to Sanctuary, and the others that came out of the rift were equally as fascinating!

...But why did he always feel like crying whenever he saw PearlescentMoon?

Emptober Day 23: Tooth

The demi-god stuffed a scrap of cloth from the banner shop to the empty space where a tooth once was, trying to stop the blood and not worry his papa. He'd done it! He got his loose tooth out all by himself! He was brave, just like the sheriff! He was so proud of himself. And surely, papa would be proud of him too! He just had to go and show him!

He took the baby tooth in his hand, keeping the cloth to the gap and running outside to find Sausage.

Said parent was talking to Scott, the two were laughing about something. Something about wood? Hermes didn't quite get it, but it sounded similar to the notes he'd be sent to either parent's house with.

"Well, thank you very much for your wood. Maybe you could come by and strip it for me." Scott teased, leaning against the shulker box a little. Sausage laughed.

"You never know, maybe I'll find the time. I'm pretty busy, but for you, I think I can-"

"Papa! Scott!" Hermes chirped, causing Scott to go bright red once he'd realized that the child had been there.

"Oh- ! Hello, little sunspot!" He smiled nonetheless, a bit confused at the current state of him.

"Hi!" Hermes would've given them a usual toothy grin, but it seemed he was missing a vital part of that. "I lost a tooth!"

Sausage gave a proud smile as Hermes held up the little tooth, ruffling up his hair a little. "Well, look at that! How'd that happen, mijo?"

"Pulled it out." Hermes took the piece of cloth from his mouth to show the blood stain. "See? It was bleeding a lot. And I hit my head on the wall when it came out. But I pulled it out all by myself!"

"Well, congratulations, little sunspot." Scott fished through his pockets briefly, before handing Hermes a glittering blue gemstone. "I think this kind of achievement deserves reward, don't you Sausage?"

"Oh, absolutely. Now, what do we say, mijo?"

"Thank you scott!" Hermes looked down at the diamond in his hand with stars in his eyes. Scott smiled fondly.

"Of course, dear. Now, I'd better get going.. you two have a lovely day."

When the colorful man left, Sausage took Hermes to the clinic to properly clean him up. The two excitedly talked about this first lost tooth, and what he could possibly do with it.

"The tooth fairy sounds like auntie lizzie." He decided. "I'm just gonna keep it safe."

Sausage tried his best not to laugh, but nodded a little and kissed Hermes' forehead. "Alright, that's fine. I bet daddy's gonna be real excited when you show him tomorrow."

And Hermes was excited to show him. Sitting on the steps of the his home in Stratos, he sat on the chest and kicked his feet, holding onto the note he wrote all by himself. "look daddy, I lost a tooth!"

Emptober Day 22: Key

The key to a good relationship was patience. And communication. Shelby really should've thought about that before fighting Pirate Joe to the death. She really should've thought more before she tried to ask Katherine out. And gosh, she really shouldn't have been so pushy about things.

The guilt eating her alive, she went after Katherine when she left, finding her sitting near a small lake. She cleared her throat, smiling awkwardly and rubbing the back of her neck. "Is... is this seat taken?"

"Not at all.." Katherine looked up at her and smiled back, moving over so Shelby could sit beside her. "Hi.."

"Hi.." Shelby pulled the brim of her hat down over her face a little. "I-... I'm really sorry.. about everything that happened. Like- I know I should've been less pushy about this- and so should Joe, and I'm really happy that we can be friends still, but I feel awful- and-"

"Hey.." Katherine cut her off and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay.. I honestly should've been more clear from the beginning.. but I'm glad we're still friends too.. I really like you Shelby. I'm just not sure where I stand on the whole "relationship" thing just yet.. yknow?"

"Yeah- no I understand!" Shelby nodded quickly. "I get it.. honestly, I'm not sure if I'm ready for one either.."

"That's okay.." Katherine laughed softly. Her laugh was one of the prettiest sounds Shelby had ever heard. "We can take our time.. see where we stand later on. Between you and me, I'm not sure where I stand with pirate Joe either."

"I didn't think so." Shelby giggled under her breath. "I mean, he's nice and all.. he's just.. a lot."

"Exactly.. but like I said. We'll wait, we'll see where we stand.. and if things don't work out romantically, I'm glad to be your friend, always."

"Yeah.. friends. Always." Shelby hadn't been one of the most popular girls at the academy. She didn't have many friends. Katherine was honestly the best choice in friend someone could have. "We should get back to the festival."

"Yeah.. don't want them to miss us too badly." Katherine snorted and got up, helping Shelby up afterwards. "Let's go."

"Let's.." Shelby didn't think anything about holding hands with her afterwards. The two just walked back to the concert venue, sitting down there as they watched the bard perform.

Relationships were complicated. There was more to them than just the dating part, and even that was more complex than Shelby really gave much of a thought to.

But the keys to a good relationship were time, patience, and communication. She knew that now. And she'd do her best to work this out with Katherine, no matter what.

After all, a girl like her doesn't happen every thousand years. And Shelby was determined to keep her around for as long as she could.