(I just got a bit less black pilled...)
Little Yvonne walked through the quiet Ayundellian woods on the granite path stones, hugging her schoolbooks close.
The small su-vulpinish girl was of a species related to the taller and very beautiful true vulpinish, but of less intelligence, smaller, and even more fox-like. If vulpinish were beautiful then su-vulpinish were, well, just cute. Yet never did the vulpinish ever treat her kind with anything less than friendship, often visiting to give art lessons in the unique vulpinish style, magical times fondly remembered.
It was early autumn and a beautiful afternoon but she said nothing and her head was bowed down. Normally she would have stayed in the playground with the other girl-cubs for a few games of hopscotch or skipping rope to the little library but...she just wanted to go home. So she had been behaving for a week.
Shafts of golden soft sunlight warmed her whenever she strolled through, as if trying to comfort her, but she hardly noticed them or any of the pleasant things she was normally so aware of.
For a week she had hardly spoken a word or shown any emotion.
There was her home, the cozy little gray stone cottage with the red tile roof, the lawn, the hedges, the garden growing food, the small nut and fruit trees, the flowers, the low stone wall, the thick glass windows with green stained glass edges made with Ayundellian skill, so warm and cozy, from within the scent of apple biscuits and cranberry tea sweetened with honey, just the thing for after school, yet today she felt only small comfort from it.
On tippy-toes she opened the door, there was her mother, she kneeling and hugging her cub close. Warmth, security, love, just for a moment she could almost believe...
There on the wall was a nicely-drawn framed picture of herself, her mother...and her father.
Her father had been a sailor, often away for weeks, but was going to retire to spend more time with his family, this was to be his final voyage. This was not uncommon among many species, and Yvonne had looked forward to this.
That knock at the door the week before, the day of his return.
Yvonne and her mother had gotten everything ready, just right, the cottage filled with the scent of fresh-baked bread and biscuit-cake, the little girl-cub helping, then gathering some pretty wildflowers, they carefully put in a blue glass vase, just right!
Her mother answered the door but there, instead of husband and father, stood a human sea captain- in fact, the captain of the ship her father served on.
The human stood before little doorway and the much smaller folk, recent scar on his face. In spite of their lack of magic Ayundellian clerics could have healed him without it, yet he had wanted it to remain because...
The look on his face...in spite of herself Yvonne’s mother softly gasped, dropping the cake tin she had been holding with oven mitts.
Crash it went on the floor tiles, the lovingly baked peach biscuit-cake shattering, taking seconds yet so long...
She knew.
The cargo ship had been sailing on a clear night, alone under bright stars, the crescent moon approaching the constellation known as the Hydra of the Golden Crown for the bright yellow stars it boasted, when another ship, a larger and faster one, appeared from behind a small island. Instead of the friendly ruby and gold lights it was supposed to flash it flashed blood-red lights six times, then again six times; moments later up went the dark red flag with the sword down through a bloody skull.
It was a black-sailed pirate ship, demanding surrender.
The captain would not do so. Piracy was a hazard of sailing but this was a renegade, not of the Red Pirate Empire which at least did have some rules of conduct- those flashing lights meant unconditional surrender and that meant after the looting all would likely be put to death or worse, the ship scuttled, no trace remaining.
An exchange of long-range alchemic weapons fire, the ships closed, the crew of her father’s ship outnumbered. Neither side had dragons or any flying folk so there was no combat in the air.
Some of the crew fled in small boats, trying to reach the island, but the small su-vulpinish, although he was an excellent swimmer, would not abandon his friends and fellow crewmen, that and the fact they were transporting badly wounded rescued from a sinking passenger ship they had found the previous day with an hour to spare, more victims of the ruthless pirates- the remaining crew and captain were determined to protect them. Surrender meant dooming them all to slow murder.
Small alchemic weapons fire, the little su-vulpinish, being much smaller than the others yet swift with a compound bow, shooting two pirates with emerald-green alchemic bolts; the ships closed, then melee, the hard clash of weapons meeting weapons as a seemingly endless pirate force swarmed over the side.
His weapon was a staff with bladed ends, folding, extending, he darting among the bigger, stronger beings, parrying deadly blows meant for friends while friends protected him from sheer brute size, they striking against foe, blood on the deck, the fallen, cries of the wounded and dying all around, alchemist-mages adding to the chaos with their strange attacks and defenses, fires burning.
Then a four-shot semiautomatic harpoon pistol fired silently three times, one striking the small fox-being in the back.
It went clean through, he was spun around and knocked to the deck- then he was hacked by a sword.
The pirate whom crouched to greedily pull away the pendant the small fox-being wore around his neck struck down by the captain himself while a thrown whipperblade from a huge enraged male red draconfolk killed the chainmail-clad pirate with the harpoon pistol, almost cutting him in half even as several more pirates trying to board fell before his fiery auramanced breath weapon.
Moments passed, but although the crew fought fiercely the pirates with their superior numbers were winning...then the flight of swift and incredibly maneuverable lesser dragons, like long-necked and long-legged dragonish pterodactyls, appeared in the starry skies, they from the distant warship “Glaive of Justice” sent by the king of The Seven Noble Realms himself to hunt for the sea-criminals, those dragons dodging panicky arrows and bolts, with shrill battle cries they stooping upon the pirates; talon-daggers, tail-swords, and various auramanced breath weapons used with deadly accuracy. The fleeing crewmen, admitting later they had been shamed in part by one so small refusing to try and escape, appeared over the sides to rejoin their comrades...the battle was soon over. The pirate ship was searched, prisoners and hostages and slaves-to-be were freed, averting a horrible fate for the young female prisoners.
But the price...over half of the ship’s crew dead, many of them the ones who had fled but returned, their honor regained.
The pendant...in dull mechanical curiosity the captain noticed it could open and there, embedded in clear crystal, was a small picture of the small vulpine creature with wife and daughter on a grassy hillside, artificial crystal illuminating the image with soft golden light. To the pirate only the value of its gold would have mattered.
The battle over the female beings went on deck and helped the surviving clerics tend to the wounded while crewmen extinguished the fires, one of the clerics knelt by the dying su-vulpinish, he turning to look...then a gurgle, his eyes went dark.
Magic cannot exist on Ayundell.
Ayundellian clerics cannot restore the dead.
It was the policy of the sea trading company from Ghan-Unulustra that should any while working for it, especially during combat, die then his wife and children are to be compensated so they would not end up in poverty. So it was here along with the captain’s heartfelt condolences, although neither mother nor cub needed to fear such things- neighbors would help with any heavy physical tasks and in most places on Ayundell one’s home was his- or her- own. Even so the sea captain insisted, for the company was an honorable one, not like the ones from Venesha which would not only refuse to offer such compensation but would find a way to bind the wife and children with endless legalities and debt.
Widows were pitied and cared for, they and their cubs in su-vulpinish society. They would not go hungry, they would not be without a home. The captain knew this, yet wished he could do more. He had liked the quiet, hardworking little sailor, as had the hulking draconfolk whom wished he could have been just a little faster with that frightening weapon, almost forgetting he had been holding off four armored ogre pirates.
The soft tick-tock-tick-tock of a wind-up Ayundellian gnomework clock, it was late said the glow-in-the-dark hands, time to sleep, little one...
It was a beautiful starry night, moon-shadows dancing on the lawn and food garden, mysteries in the shadows a cub’s imagination could fill.
Yvonne lay in bed, muzzle poking out from under the quilt lovingly made by her grandmother, cuddling a stuffed toy green lesser dragon against scary imaginings, soft brown eyes focused on a solid crystal globe on the night table.
It glittered in the moonlight, inside was a beautiful violet and red flower with glowing pinpoints, pinpoints which glowed in the moonlight.
It was a flower from one of the distant islands her father had sailed to. He had given it to her for her last birthday, a magical gift, he describing the island under tropical stars gleaming with so many thousands of those flowers, exotic tree villages of tiny golden-furred picayunafolk so small, why she’d soon be a giantess among them, tap on the nose she giggling while listening in wonder...
Finally, in the comforting dark of night, she cried. And cried.
She buried her muzzle in the soft pillow, not wanting to wake her mother as those emotions overwhelmed her all at once, sadness turning to wails of anguish, hating fighting yet hoping he had killed many pirates, was that wrong, ohhhh so torn inside...
In the other room her mother could hear. She had hoped for this, let it out dear little cub, do not be ashamed, you cannot cry more than I have already.
Little Yvonne walked through the quiet Ayundellian woods on the granite path stones, hugging her schoolbooks close.
The small su-vulpinish girl was of a species related to the taller and very beautiful true vulpinish, but of less intelligence, smaller, and even more fox-like. If vulpinish were beautiful then su-vulpinish were, well, just cute. Yet never did the vulpinish ever treat her kind with anything less than friendship, often visiting to give art lessons in the unique vulpinish style, magical times fondly remembered.
It was early autumn and a beautiful afternoon but she said nothing and her head was bowed down. Normally she would have stayed in the playground with the other girl-cubs for a few games of hopscotch or skipping rope to the little library but...she just wanted to go home. So she had been behaving for a week.
Shafts of golden soft sunlight warmed her whenever she strolled through, as if trying to comfort her, but she hardly noticed them or any of the pleasant things she was normally so aware of.
For a week she had hardly spoken a word or shown any emotion.
There was her home, the cozy little gray stone cottage with the red tile roof, the lawn, the hedges, the garden growing food, the small nut and fruit trees, the flowers, the low stone wall, the thick glass windows with green stained glass edges made with Ayundellian skill, so warm and cozy, from within the scent of apple biscuits and cranberry tea sweetened with honey, just the thing for after school, yet today she felt only small comfort from it.
On tippy-toes she opened the door, there was her mother, she kneeling and hugging her cub close. Warmth, security, love, just for a moment she could almost believe...
There on the wall was a nicely-drawn framed picture of herself, her mother...and her father.
Her father had been a sailor, often away for weeks, but was going to retire to spend more time with his family, this was to be his final voyage. This was not uncommon among many species, and Yvonne had looked forward to this.
That knock at the door the week before, the day of his return.
Yvonne and her mother had gotten everything ready, just right, the cottage filled with the scent of fresh-baked bread and biscuit-cake, the little girl-cub helping, then gathering some pretty wildflowers, they carefully put in a blue glass vase, just right!
Her mother answered the door but there, instead of husband and father, stood a human sea captain- in fact, the captain of the ship her father served on.
The human stood before little doorway and the much smaller folk, recent scar on his face. In spite of their lack of magic Ayundellian clerics could have healed him without it, yet he had wanted it to remain because...
The look on his face...in spite of herself Yvonne’s mother softly gasped, dropping the cake tin she had been holding with oven mitts.
Crash it went on the floor tiles, the lovingly baked peach biscuit-cake shattering, taking seconds yet so long...
She knew.
The cargo ship had been sailing on a clear night, alone under bright stars, the crescent moon approaching the constellation known as the Hydra of the Golden Crown for the bright yellow stars it boasted, when another ship, a larger and faster one, appeared from behind a small island. Instead of the friendly ruby and gold lights it was supposed to flash it flashed blood-red lights six times, then again six times; moments later up went the dark red flag with the sword down through a bloody skull.
It was a black-sailed pirate ship, demanding surrender.
The captain would not do so. Piracy was a hazard of sailing but this was a renegade, not of the Red Pirate Empire which at least did have some rules of conduct- those flashing lights meant unconditional surrender and that meant after the looting all would likely be put to death or worse, the ship scuttled, no trace remaining.
An exchange of long-range alchemic weapons fire, the ships closed, the crew of her father’s ship outnumbered. Neither side had dragons or any flying folk so there was no combat in the air.
Some of the crew fled in small boats, trying to reach the island, but the small su-vulpinish, although he was an excellent swimmer, would not abandon his friends and fellow crewmen, that and the fact they were transporting badly wounded rescued from a sinking passenger ship they had found the previous day with an hour to spare, more victims of the ruthless pirates- the remaining crew and captain were determined to protect them. Surrender meant dooming them all to slow murder.
Small alchemic weapons fire, the little su-vulpinish, being much smaller than the others yet swift with a compound bow, shooting two pirates with emerald-green alchemic bolts; the ships closed, then melee, the hard clash of weapons meeting weapons as a seemingly endless pirate force swarmed over the side.
His weapon was a staff with bladed ends, folding, extending, he darting among the bigger, stronger beings, parrying deadly blows meant for friends while friends protected him from sheer brute size, they striking against foe, blood on the deck, the fallen, cries of the wounded and dying all around, alchemist-mages adding to the chaos with their strange attacks and defenses, fires burning.
Then a four-shot semiautomatic harpoon pistol fired silently three times, one striking the small fox-being in the back.
It went clean through, he was spun around and knocked to the deck- then he was hacked by a sword.
The pirate whom crouched to greedily pull away the pendant the small fox-being wore around his neck struck down by the captain himself while a thrown whipperblade from a huge enraged male red draconfolk killed the chainmail-clad pirate with the harpoon pistol, almost cutting him in half even as several more pirates trying to board fell before his fiery auramanced breath weapon.
Moments passed, but although the crew fought fiercely the pirates with their superior numbers were winning...then the flight of swift and incredibly maneuverable lesser dragons, like long-necked and long-legged dragonish pterodactyls, appeared in the starry skies, they from the distant warship “Glaive of Justice” sent by the king of The Seven Noble Realms himself to hunt for the sea-criminals, those dragons dodging panicky arrows and bolts, with shrill battle cries they stooping upon the pirates; talon-daggers, tail-swords, and various auramanced breath weapons used with deadly accuracy. The fleeing crewmen, admitting later they had been shamed in part by one so small refusing to try and escape, appeared over the sides to rejoin their comrades...the battle was soon over. The pirate ship was searched, prisoners and hostages and slaves-to-be were freed, averting a horrible fate for the young female prisoners.
But the price...over half of the ship’s crew dead, many of them the ones who had fled but returned, their honor regained.
The pendant...in dull mechanical curiosity the captain noticed it could open and there, embedded in clear crystal, was a small picture of the small vulpine creature with wife and daughter on a grassy hillside, artificial crystal illuminating the image with soft golden light. To the pirate only the value of its gold would have mattered.
The battle over the female beings went on deck and helped the surviving clerics tend to the wounded while crewmen extinguished the fires, one of the clerics knelt by the dying su-vulpinish, he turning to look...then a gurgle, his eyes went dark.
Magic cannot exist on Ayundell.
Ayundellian clerics cannot restore the dead.
It was the policy of the sea trading company from Ghan-Unulustra that should any while working for it, especially during combat, die then his wife and children are to be compensated so they would not end up in poverty. So it was here along with the captain’s heartfelt condolences, although neither mother nor cub needed to fear such things- neighbors would help with any heavy physical tasks and in most places on Ayundell one’s home was his- or her- own. Even so the sea captain insisted, for the company was an honorable one, not like the ones from Venesha which would not only refuse to offer such compensation but would find a way to bind the wife and children with endless legalities and debt.
Widows were pitied and cared for, they and their cubs in su-vulpinish society. They would not go hungry, they would not be without a home. The captain knew this, yet wished he could do more. He had liked the quiet, hardworking little sailor, as had the hulking draconfolk whom wished he could have been just a little faster with that frightening weapon, almost forgetting he had been holding off four armored ogre pirates.
The soft tick-tock-tick-tock of a wind-up Ayundellian gnomework clock, it was late said the glow-in-the-dark hands, time to sleep, little one...
It was a beautiful starry night, moon-shadows dancing on the lawn and food garden, mysteries in the shadows a cub’s imagination could fill.
Yvonne lay in bed, muzzle poking out from under the quilt lovingly made by her grandmother, cuddling a stuffed toy green lesser dragon against scary imaginings, soft brown eyes focused on a solid crystal globe on the night table.
It glittered in the moonlight, inside was a beautiful violet and red flower with glowing pinpoints, pinpoints which glowed in the moonlight.
It was a flower from one of the distant islands her father had sailed to. He had given it to her for her last birthday, a magical gift, he describing the island under tropical stars gleaming with so many thousands of those flowers, exotic tree villages of tiny golden-furred picayunafolk so small, why she’d soon be a giantess among them, tap on the nose she giggling while listening in wonder...
Finally, in the comforting dark of night, she cried. And cried.
She buried her muzzle in the soft pillow, not wanting to wake her mother as those emotions overwhelmed her all at once, sadness turning to wails of anguish, hating fighting yet hoping he had killed many pirates, was that wrong, ohhhh so torn inside...
In the other room her mother could hear. She had hoped for this, let it out dear little cub, do not be ashamed, you cannot cry more than I have already.
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