Hello my pretty darlings! We’re here – the last installment of this run of The Strife. Are you ready?
Desire and Rava were standing in the vast office, and seemed to be discussing something though neither was speaking. When She saw him, the Strife Lord gave one of her conditioned smiles and clapped her hands together once. Without seeming to move, the three were now in a stone chamber. Torches lit the space and a large platform stood in the middle of the room, between the two gods and Zhevicra. He wanted to speak, to ask what was going on, but something told him that it would be best to keep silent.
We’re revving up to the end of this run in The Strife. In this penultimate entry, we catch up with the actors in our play as they each prepare for the rite. Grab a cup of tea and enjoy the musings of Desire, Rava and our outmatched tribute, Zhevicra.
It’s the first Sunday of the Month, and you know what that means… Story Sunday! (Okay, yeah every Sunday is Story Sunday, but you get my meaning)
We’re about to meet the lady with the changing skin. So enjoy, and catch you in the next installment!
Happy Sunday, all!
This week we get into the story itself. You’ve already read about the beginning, and have a cryptic letter written by a dying man… but what does that have to do with anything? Today, you’ll start to find out.
Enjoy, and see you next week for the next episode.
when he arrived nobody really knew what to do with him. he appeared in a quiet residential area on the outskirts of town wearing a t-shirt and khaki pants. when they asked him who he was he said that his name was Kah’nul. when they asked him where he came from he said he came from Kah’nul.
The First Lesson
Nyasha lay silent and still in her bed, listening to the sounds of the world waking outside her window. The sky was becoming brighter and she knew that soon the first rays of sunlight would come streaming through her windows and she and the others would be woken. The others whined and complained about how early they had to get up but Nyasha was a helper girl and was used to waking up before the sun. She had enjoyed the extra time she got in bed at the Manast, but then the dream had started and now she lay awake each morning, replaying it in her mind.
HR Vanguard Unit 4, a part of the seventh unit designated for Human Reconnaissance, maps the area to be swept and opens its Uplink to the collective, sharing the information with all other units in its squad. A few seconds of inter-unit discussion of areas to be covered and the search begins. Unit 4 moves swiftly, perhaps too swiftly, examining large rock formations for signs of hidden entrances, discoloured dirt patches for signs of blood. Sometimes the humans are very clever and do not leave any evident signs. Sometimes they set decoys and an inexperienced unit is lost in a rain of fire. But on the whole, humans aren’t too good at evading HR squads.
She blinks into consciousness and stares in the space occupied by the voice. The voice echoes in her head for a brief moment before clicks of recognition begin. Speech. Conversation. It is a capability which she possesses. The space occupied by the voice lacks a body. Perhaps that is normal. She speaks in its direction, at a black box hanging just below some form of shining cylinder with a red light coming from it. “H-hello.”
Qast awoke with a rasping breath, clawing at her hair. Her eyes narrowed and darted about the room as her hands deftly reached for two of the daggers she kept concealed about her bed. The darkness offered no sound and she could sense no presence in it except that of her sleeping sister, and yet she felt invaded. The faint whispering which had woken her came again, crawling to the fore of her mind and scratching at her defences. As her heart slowed she realised she knew this presence. She put her daggers back in their places then began the process of calming herself and opening her mind. A voice crackled into clarity.
Rena made her way slowly from Faril’s desk and to the back of the library, taking a new route with each trip. By the fourth load she had figured out that if she walked straight from the desk, through the first row of books, took a left and counted four rows then walked down, the trip was significantly shorter. There were no ladders and no students crowding the way. Yet even with this improvement she knew that she’d spend the entire afternoon stacking then organising books. The task would likely run on into tomorrow’s schedule as well.