The Five Ages Of Our People

Five ages of a civilization. Each one predicated on one sole death.

The murder of Shilm by his brother Siddjon and Siddjon's rise to Chief of what would become our people is the start, albeit probably apocryphal.

We took the river when Chief Goaorn killed the river people's chief in a duel.

Chieftess Womort only brought in the Golden Age because her husband died and she took over.

The Great War was won thanks to the Others' commander dying.

And we were brought down by one sailor no-one remembers the name of who died in the capitol of The Plague.

Shark Pool

The woman who had identified herself as my mother glanced at the pool table then looked back at the Shark.

"Well maybe I could play you for double or nothing, that's the term, right? I mean, it looks like a simple enough game "

The Shark paused.

"Forget it, I know this trick, debt's off, just never come back to my club."

After we were far enough away and I'd paid her, I asked if she could actually play, if he'd not 'outsmarted' us.

The fact her reply took so long and was so weak told me I'd dodged another bullet.

Spell Requirements

Casting a spell requires four things.

It requires a conduit item, something created to channel and focus magical energies. Wands, powders, brooms, etc. You can no more cast a spell with your bare hands than you can pick up the sun.

It requires a strong mind, one able to center itself and concentrate on the spell, unwavering in both belief that it can occur and determination that it will.

It requires possibility. No spell can do something truly impossible, but extremely unlikely is good enough.

Plus it needs magical energy in the world. Thus why no spells work now.

Probably.

A Few Drinks

I only had a few drinks.

I know that’s usually the start of a tale of woe, or what someone begins with as they plead with a loved one to take them back despite their misdeeds. But for me, it was pretty much the whole story. At least that part of it.

Because after those few drinks came the meeting of a friend, and their friends, then came the hook-up, and after that the trip back to hers, the attempt to open her window, the shove, the opening, the fall.

They were the first, and only, drinks of my life.

Bodily Functions

He only ate in fast food restaurants when on assignment. While it helped him keep a low profile, it also helped keep his bodily functions regular.

Usually.

Exiting the office building with soiled pants was too messy, on multiple levels, so he snuck into the female bathroom, as there was only one female employee on this level, it was the safer option.

Then he found out that his target and said female employee were having an affair. And that said bathroom was their rendezvous point. And that she had a handgun in her purse.

It was a messy clean up.

The Rigged Game

Everyone knows the game is rigged, but they also know that they will still find a way to win with heart and determination and all that BS people feed themselves.

Some people know just how far the rigging goes, and they do their best to keep it going, usually because through accident of birth they are on the side with the power, or else a misguided hope they can join said lucky ones.

A few refuse to play, despite knowing the costs involved.

Because it's not enough to refuse to place your bet. You have to flip the whole table.

Just Another Second

I felt more and more light-headed with every drop of blood falling from my arm, but either despite or because of this, I kept moving. I couldn’t stop. Never mind I was slowing down, never mind I was leaving a trail, I just had to keep moving.

I heard the roar behind me, and my jog became a sprint.

I had no end game, had no plan, no goal beyond the simple one of gaining another second of life.

And another after that. And another after that. And so on.

Not much different from normal life, except the monster, obviously.