One Year of Instants (2023)

By C M Weller

Throughout 2023, C. M. Weller accepted prompts from the internet and turned them into stories. Not just any kind of stories, but strange, weird, wild and wonderful stories. Every day, a new prompt; and every day, a new story. Dare you take a walk on the weird side into the unexpected side of fiction?

• Language: English
• Publisher: C M Weller
• Release date: Jan 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215014547

C M Weller

C M Weller has decided to keep their full identity a secret until such time as one of their works becomes a bestseller. They share a house in Burpengary East with two children, two cats, and a spouse who sometimes thinks they're insane.Every October, C M Weller releases a free short story, in honour of both their birthday and All Hallow’s Read.Unfortunately, this author has managed to avoid doing all the things that make author bios interesting reading. Sorry. However, ze has been publishing stories via Smashwords since 2012, and has an Amazon-exclusive novelette titled Free Baby.This writer is allergic to almost all forms of alcohol (long story), too asthmatic to indulge in tobacco, and in possession of a body chemistry that makes the more interesting drugs problematic at best. Thusly, their chief addiction is their own imagination.

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One Year of Instants (2023)

Published by C. M. Weller at Smashwords

Copyright 2024 C. M. Weller

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other works by this author:

Nor Gloom of Night

Good Boy Blowing Bubbles

Scavenger

It Happened One Wednesday

Hevun’s Rebel

Hevun's Ambassador

Hevun's Gate

One Year of Instants

Interview Inside a Terrarium

The Amity Incident

One Leap Year of Instants

Better

One Year of Instants (2015)

I Wish, I Wish

One Leap Year of Instants (2016)

Kung Fu Zombies

Comes Around

One Year of Instants (2017)

Well Rendered

One Year of Instants (2018)

One Year of Instants (2019)

One Leap Year of Instants (2020)

One Year of Instants (2021)

Grey Goo Ticky Tacky

One Year of Instants (2022)

For more information please visit my author site CMWeller.com.

Challenge #001: Walking With Buddy, Beta Test

A hospital uses a VR system to help patients who are in physical therapy, and refuse to let themselves be given strong painkillers, deal with the pain and focus on their exercises. The gentle landscapes and virtual worlds make it more fun, too. -- Fighting Fit

Gaming and medical therapy have been hand-in-rubber glove for quite some time. People need less painkillers when their minds are fighting the evil forces of Xur. Or, for that matter, mining for resources in a world made of blocks.

Some early explorations of gaming and physiotherapy were limited by the technology. Patients recovering from spinal chord injury could not, for instance, bear the weight of the virtuality goggles at the time. Some made use of large enough screens, and travel rollers in combination with supports for the patient.

The advent of the Virtuality Eyepieces was a godsend for the medical profession. Light, simple, LCD on somewhat sturdy frames. The glasses could work regardless of the patient's frailty and could also augment the reality around them for safety purposes.

They would later see common use as the Eyescreen.

Here and now, Sergeant Trent was doing more walking than he had ever done in a physiotherapy gym. He was not walking through a game world, but walking through a picturesque landscape.

It was peaceful and beautiful. There were no enemies, merely meadows and distant trees. There were hills for him to roam around on, at present. The mountains were only theoretically reachable.

The dog in his eyescreens was a simulation. An encouragement for him to walk just that little further, today.

What'cha found, boy? asked Trent, as the virtual dog dug in the ground. What'cha found?

Sometimes, it was something Trent could use in his virtual world. Sometimes, like now, it was treasure.

A shiny golden medallion with an interesting sigil on one side and the words 20 Miles! on the other.

Ah, goddamn it, Trent chuckled. Y'all keep reminding me this place isn't real. Assholes.

We have to, said his therapist, Megyn. It's the law, right now. Something about people pirating escape environments like this and wasting away in-harness. I doubt it's ever happened, but it's what the right wing keep repeating to avoid paying for stuff like this.

Yeah yeah, I know the song. We support our troops until they need homes, food, and medical care. Trent rolled his eyes, and paused to watch a bird. Thank small mercies for volunteering to test this for the next time they sprain something at golf.

Little bit too cynical there. I'll make sure a recording accident blips that out of existance, said Megyn. And this too. We must praise our kind donors for their generosity in getting all the bugs out of the system.

It's the patriotic way, singsonged Trent. Welp. Buddy's leading me home, so it's the downhill part of the course. Guess the testing's almost done for the day. He looked at his virtual medal. This looks like cheap crap. I gotta be honest for the coders, right?

"Well they won't let coders near actual treasure so... they have to imagine stuff. They tell me they can do better gemstones."

Honestly? A gemstone reward system might work a bit better.

The walk 'home' was on the same rig as before, but with most of the resistance motors offline. Thanks to Trent's input, they let him pet the virtual dog, Buddy, before exiting.

He was back in his chair and victorious, no matter how cheap the medal had looked in virtuality.

Why is it, Trent panted, "that my legs hurt now?"

Because he was no longer distracted from what he had been doing with them. Because the game's over, said Megyn, and you're not having fun any more.

Challenge #002: A Perfectly Natural Anomaly

They're too hot, they're too cold, they're too hot, they're too cold, they're tired, they're cranky, then they're full of energy and active, then back to the hot flashes. The Galactics deal with a human female in menopause for the first time. -- Anon Guest

Human Keefe had been fiddling with her livesuit environmental controls very often of late. Her personal environment had the same adjustments from cooling things down to warming things up. Her personal energy levels waxed and waned without pattern or reason. On one occasion needing to sleep for almost the whole of a 24-hour cycle.

Companion Threx all but dragged her to Medical to see if she was ill.

I'm not sick, sighed Keefe. This is perfectly normal for this stage of my life. Unfortunately. She puffed and blew and adjusted her livesuit to cool her off again. I thought I'd love it when it happened, but nope! Another patch of hell. Huzzah.

Threx continued to usher her into the Medical bay, where Medik Tusin scanned her, did blood tests, and announced, This is normal. Well. Normal for Humans.

"Human Uyn never had this problem and he was also a mature Human," objected Threx.

Human Uyn was a dude, said Keefe. "Dudes don't get menopause. Most dudes don't get menopause."

The best I can do is, Medik Tusin checked his notes, a hormone regulator that will ease the process, but--

Gimmie gimmie gimmie gimmie gimmie, demanded Keefe. "Anything has to be better than waking up every three hours in either a pool of sweat or tooth-chattering chills."

Ah, said Threx, finally understanding. "This is why Humans go insane."

Challenge #003: Without Orders

They sat Deathwatch as the entire polity's leaders refused the evil medicines that were desperately needed to cure the deadly virus sweeping their empire. The leadership died of the virus, the few people left, the sick and the very few immunes, reached out. The leaders are gone, please help us? -- Anon Guest

Greater Deregulation Lower Median North-Northwest was dying. Worse, it was dying of a preventable disease.

It wasn't often that a whole world died of Measles[1], but it was happening. It was even rarer that a whole world blockaded any and all medical intervention because of imaginary poisons, but this was a Greater Deregulation. They were founded on willful ignorance and profit for profit's sake.

It should not have been shocking that such a thing happened, but the shock didn't care about those rules.

The CEO's of the world did what they did best. They denied the problem, delayed action against it, attempted to distract their people with showy displays... and inevitably fell to disinformation. Snake oil, bullshit advice, and a clear misunderstanding of how cleaning things worked.

The last of Greater Deregulation Lower Median North-Northwest's CEO's died by injecting drain cleaner into his veins after the first red spots turned up on his tongue. It was not an attempted suicide, but attempted self-curing because he believed his own bullshit.

Never trust Deregger medical science.

For a heart-stopping hour, the Alliance observers believed the world had died. Transmissions slowed to a halt as none of the Media Smiles still available had anything fed to them to say.

The last word from the planet was, Do we roll it? The tape at the end of the world? Not yet? Followed by a scripted, smiling announcement, Dear viewers, we are temporarily suspending the news until there is news that we know we can report. This host wishes you all the best of luck.

Then, an hour after all other signs of activity ceased, a new face. One dressed in a janitor's uniform. Their complexion glaring under the lights. Hello? Hello. I know this is on, I can see the broadcast. Um. There's... nobody in charge any more. Nobody knows what to do. There's the sick, and those who can't get sick... and I think there's a few people shut up in their homes and stuff, but that's it. We don't know what to do... and we need help. Please? Help? A moment as the janitor dug out a comms device. I have a friend who works in the last boss' mansion. The shutdown codes for the defence network is... Squinting at the screen, they read out a series of letters and numbers.

The Alliance didn't need a second invitation.

It's not often that a Deregger world gets saved from its own mess, either, but the Mediks of the Alliance were glad that this was one of them.

[1] Measles can and will KILL people. I remember that era in my childhood. Fact: I could have died of Measles myself.

Challenge #004: Lessons From Ozymandias

This was a Deregger world, as cold, as harsh, as they came. This....WAS... a Deregger world... so... why was the new, young owner of this empire holding out a hand to the lowly plebian child who was thin and crying in the street? Why was he... carrying the child and handing the child to the family... wait.. was he... helping them? Helping them???? And how in the he... was he making all those profits? This was a DEREG world! WAS. -- Anon Guest

There was a new boss of the Polity. Something about a takeover bid and a ludicrous amount of Quatloos paid to do it. There was also the hands off codicil in the purchase contract.

All of the lower-ranking Higher Administrators were buzzing about that one.

Their polity, their rules[2]. They owned four stellar systems and everything in it. Which made the Law Enforcement Officers nervous since the new CEO owned them as well.

Law Enforcement's one rule was also their motto: Protect and Serve the Job Creators. When the update came through, it became, Protect and serve the people. Things only got worse from there.

Things were rearranged. The wealthy had to pay taxes or have their property repossessed as forensic accountants assessed everything. Public housing ceased being ghettos in the garbage warrens and started being buildings. Buildings with safety standards.

Buildings with... accessability. With heat and running water that was also clean.

It felt disgusting.

Hospitals, clinics, and the entire medical system was overhauled from the ground up. Alternate medicine had effectiveness ratings based against placebos. PUBLICLY!

They let the Alliance Mediks in and let them advertise with, "We do no harm!"

It should have been a massive blow to the economy. Especially when those taxes that the rich paid went on support for people who had been better off dying in the next winter.

It should have destroyed their way of life, and in a way, it did.

Sort of.

It did not invite criminal activity into gated communities. It did not foster dependence on handouts. It did not, in fact, encourage people to feign sickness to get free drugs.

Everything improved.

Life got better.

How dare it!

The wealthy were not happy with a smaller slice of a bigger pie. Nor were they happy with benefits trickling up to their own level.

What was the point of having an ivory tower if you couldn't sneer down at people?

[2] Also, their coffee.

Challenge #005: Unskilled at Bargaining

A dragon kidnaps Wraithvine's friend, Gikka, and flew off with her. Though, oddly enough, seemed to be flying slow enough to let Wraithvine keep up. Only to gently put Gikka down by a pile of books, and ask Gikka to please teach them how to read, offering dragon's gold in return for the favor. -- Lessons

Kobolds and Dragons go way back. Some say that when the world was very new, Dragons allegedly created Kobolds to be their servants. You know, since the bid to create Drakkonbred for similar purposes went so well[3].

Gikka, like many Kobolds, had dreams of being a real Dragon one day. It did not take much effort for Nurdoth Maviskal to lure Gikka away with promises.

Lessons, they whispered. Lessons for gold. I have jewels, I have treasure... and you have skills I need. And like all deals that seem so fantastic in the beginning, full disclosure was not an option. Consent only counts when it is informed, and informed properly.

Wraithvine, when ze put all the clues together, was understandably upset. It is not nice to steal a Wizard's friends at the best of times, and this was a Wizard who was also a living legend. Ze could do things not ordinarily expected of Wizard-kind.

Like... turning into a different Dragon and giving chase.

It wasn't a long journey, for Dragons, to the cave that Nurdoth called home. Where Nurdoth's hoard was split into two piles. One of gold and gems, and the other of books.

Lessons first, insisted Nurdoth. Teach me how to read these.

Wraithvine, close behind, changed back into hir usual Elfin form, and heard everything. "You do realise my companion is barely competent at the Trader Tongue or Draconic, don't you?"

Hey, said Gikka. I was about to make a fortune.

We do not defraud Dragons, my friend, said Wraithvine. "It never ends very well. Remember the Valley of Glass? The obsidian mines? That's what happened to the last place that tried to defraud a Dragon."

Oh, said Gikka. Can I still try? And you take over when I run out?

That's more amenable, allowed Wraithvine. In the meantime, I can possibly fabricate Dragon-sized copies of everything here. And after a moment's thought, added, "Please tell me you came by all of these without threatening or harming people?"

Gifts from visitors, said Nurdoth. I promise.

[3] For those of you who did not read the sarcasm present - it did not go well at all.

Challenge #006: Balm for a Shattered Heart

They care deeply for Wraithvine, and ask them out on a date. If rejected, they take it well and ask if they could at least sit and talk over tea. If accepted, they smile, and plan for a wonderful dinner. -- Anon Guest

Once an immortal has been an immortal for a few eras, the signs start to show. Not in wrinkles or grey hairs because immortality isn't worth spit without the associated eternal youth codicil. What gives an immortal away, after sufficient time, is their eyes. There's a lingering sadness there.

They know that every 'hello' is matched with a final farewell. They know that nobody lasts.

It's the same with Wraithvine, who has met yet another mortal who thinks that all ze needs is love in hir life. Never mind that ze has had it in abundance a thousand times or more.

Hearts are fickle things. They know they can be hurt, yet they repeatedly hurl themselves at the danger nonetheless.

This was not one of those moments.

The effort was heartfelt and from the young Miss Endless Love, Felid purveyor of exotic wares. I have some exotic teas, should you wish to try some? Some treats and savours from other lands? Or, perhaps, a little company is what you might prefer?

Wraithvine briefly looked over hir shoulder before realisation hit. Are you asking me on a date, madam?

I am prepared for rejection, should you not be wishing of my company, Endless allowed. I have read of your adventures and I believe we could at least swap tales together? The tea is good. The company is better?

"I... can not love again, confessed the Wizard. This heart of mine has been broken too many times. I remember the pain more than I remember the joys and that is never good."

Tea and stories all the same? offered Endless. There is never harm in a good tale, yes?

Tea and stories, agreed Wraithvine. And nothing further.

Challenge #007: Save the Warrior

The ship blew apart, the last one aboard, the human. One last message as it rammed into the enemy flagship, causing the enemy forces to be completely crippled. One Life for the saving of millions, I'll gladly pay it! But... what happened to the human? No body was found. -- Anon Guest

This was the battle that stopped the Vorax from using their Dreadnaughts. The Humans - in their near-eternal battle with their traditional enemy, other Humans - had come up with dirtier and nastier means of fighting than them. Including the Kamikaze Manoevre - ramming a dying vessel into something very fragile on the Dreadnaught and making everything blow up as a result.

The Dreadnaught, its hive of fighter vessels that happened to be nearby, anyone else luckless enough to be in the area, and of course the impacting vessel and the Human who was inevitably piloting it.

They always sent a last transmission, after they got the crew out with the Last Lie[4]. Some were emotional farewells. Some were irreverent variations on, Hey, watch this. One that stood out was, One life to saving of millions, I'll gladly pay it.

Given the nature of the manoevre, nobody expected to find their body.

There was a service, and a wake, just in case they came back somehow. Everyone knew that Humans could survive unlikely things.

They mourned, they moved on, and an uneasy truce evolved from the scattering of wreckage at the border. Deathworlders who recognised the futility of attack, glaring at each other from opposite sides of No-Beings Land.

As for Human Sa'd, she had expected to die. It was normal to do that sort of thing when ramming a dying ship into a Vorax Dreadnaught. Nobody ever came back from that.

So she was very surprised to find herself awake and in an Intensive Care Drawer. It was not the sort of tech she was used to. It was bare bones. Only that which was necessary. None of the artistic flourishes.

This was not the ICU drawer of an ally.

So the first thing she said to the tentacled nightmare of a doctor was, Am I a prisoner of war?

Their translator units were not very reliable and the answer was, Us not eating you, which didn't answer questions in the way that Sa'd wanted.

It's hard to be confident about where you wake up when they tell you things like that.

The Vorax had seen Humanity's Hungry Caterpillar, reverse-engineered it, and used it as tech to save as many warriors as possible. Like most Vorax things, it was bare bones and didn't discriminate regarding passengers. When it threw living beings towards 'help', it only classified the nearest Thranityr base as helpful.

Sa'd learned a lot in that base. And eventually returned to the Alliance in a ship without weapons that she had made herself. The Alliance had data, at last, about how the Thranityr lived.

Which meant that Humans, being Humans, could work on potential solutions.

It did take them a lot of time to work things out from there.

[4] You guys go ahead. I'll catch up, or Go on ahead. I'll be fine.

Challenge #008: To Everything, Turn, Turn, Turn...

When is it appropriate to kill? And when is it appropriate to allow yourself to die? These are questions roiling through the head of the young adult who is on their first job as a ship's human, protecting these kind scientists who were treating him as if he was their own family. -- Anon Guest

Human Zan's first log entry on the first day of his first job as Ship's Human was, Sweet Powers, it's full of nerds.

It was a science vessel crewed almost entirely by cute, fluffy scientists and the impulse to just pick them up and snoodle them was very strong. Zan resisted, mostly because following protocol was funnier.

A Human must announce their presence in a non-threatening way, said the rule book. So Zan did so by sing-songing, It's Zan, Zan, the Ship's Hu-man. Whether or not there was a following, Aaaayyyyy... was up to his mood at the time.

A Human must be prepared to kill or die for the crew, was more than a little problematic. Zan was vegan, within limits[5], and didn't approve of murder. He didn't approve of dying, either.

But these nerds were so gosh-darn cute, he couldn't let them perish for his beliefs, either.

The first angry Megabeast he killed was... traumatic.

There was no time to think, he kept repeating. I tried to discourage it and it just... it just died.

Of all the things the scientists were prepared for, having a tender-hearted Deathworlder wasn't even on their list. Humans were bold, Humans were brave. Humans were basically nice. They didn't expect a Human to feel guilty for doing their job.

The scientists conferred, as they took turns on the Teddy Bear rota. They consulted the ever-changing Human Manual[6]. They came up with a solution.

They helped Human Zan hold a funeral for the fallen beast. Including apologies, grave goods, and a eulogy resolving any blame. It worked for the purpose.

Zan privately logged that he was increasingly willing to die for his fluffy nerds but only if he was certain they'd all get safe thanks to his sacrifice.

[5] Because just about everything made for food involves the effort of some kind of animal.

[6] How to Care For Humans, the shared document and group problem-solving community.

Challenge #009: Gentle Corrections

Two travellers: a massive bugbear, and a small half-fae. The bugbear, a priest of the Church of Wraithvine, soothing, kind, soft-spoken; the half-fae, fierce, a warrior, and the bugbear's protector. Unfortunately, people get them mixed up all the time, much to their detriment. -- Fighting Fit

[AN: I have, in the world of Alfarell, fae-kin: people who came from, or are related to people who came from the Plane of Magic, also known as Nanogh. So that means I can make up something very interesting here]

In an adventuring party, it is wise to have at least one person who can see in the dark, or one who can make light on command. These two had both. There was Hundathrim, the Bugbear, who could had darksight so they did not need a torch or lantern. There was also Holly Gorseprickle, who could give off light from her body at will.

One is a warrior and the other is a gentle Cleric of the Church of Kind Hands. You may try to guess which one is which, but you may get it wrong. Many already have.

Stopping at a horsetrough town on their way between origin and destination, they had a running bet. Would the people there make The Mistake? Five gold was riding on it.

Holly walked ahead, wary and ready for trouble. Considering that she was half-faekin and Hundathrim was all bugbear, it was debatable as to whom would catch ire first. Nevertheless, Holly was ready. She was always ready.

The luckless teen with the bow didn't know who to aim at. Their aim wavered between fuzzy huge Bugbear and the relatively diminutive half-Whisp. Halt! State your business, the kid's voice cracked in the middle of trying to sound authoritative.

We come in peace, sighed Holly. Neither of us mean any harm to you or yours.

Of course, the usual half-truths and everyone-knowses emerged as someone rushed to mix honey, milk, and marigold together to welcome a Fae, and someone else hurried to string together enough flowers to make a collar for the monster.

Everyone knew that one welcomed Fae with honey and milk and gold. Just as everyone knew that a collar of wildflowers could tame the monstrous.

I really prefer flower crowns, rumbled Hundathrim as they accepted the 'taming'. The fact that they had to kneel to let them seemed to pass these isolated Humans by.

When they begged Holly for the boon, that was when the real truths came out.

It's Hund's job to do the blessings. I just fight off evil, said Holly, politely ignoring the smallest children's fascination with her dragonfly-wings. As well as the nearest kitten's attraction to her cow-like tail.

These things... happened.

Hundathrim handed Holly five gold and made a show of their holy symbol. To some, it looked like a badly-drawn butterfly. On closer examination, they would see that it was two hands together, in a position of offering.

There was always someone who needed the aid of divine magic. Something that needed the blessings of the worshipped as performed by a worshipper.

The fact that Hundathrim's chosen deity was still walking the world in seemingly mortal flesh didn't matter. The result was the same.

While the Bugbear was busy curing disease and mending needed items, Holly taught the teenager how to aim and accurately hit two targets at once.

She also -very grudgingly- sat with the little kids who were scared of the dark. Her faint, natural glow was all they needed to know that the world could be less frightening.

The little horsetrough town got an education from the both of them. And, perhaps, learned to be a little less prejudiced about other beings.

Every small improvement was worth it, according to Hundathrim.

Challenge #010: The Hardest Lesson

You have everything. Wealth, houses, tons of food, staff to satisfy your every whim. Yet, you say you feel empty inside. Lonely, and unfulfilled. How about try... sharing your wealth, and gaining a type of wealth no money could ever buy? -- Anon Guest

Not every Dragon is born with scales and wings. Many are born in Human bodies, and live like their fellows. Save for one difference - they have it all, and they want more.

Witness the young Emperor Ymmus, ruler of many lands. They have had everything they could possibly want since they could speak their wants. Like many child emperors, life has been wonderful. It has also been very empty. Gold and glitter, yes. The best and most expensive foods, also. The finest and most expensive clothes.

Everything was splendid, it was overloaded with splendour. Everything was fantastic, it was an artifice of fantasy. Everything was wanted, and the Emperor Ymmus wanted more, more, more...

A hoard of gold was not enough. A room of gemstones was not enough. Silk clothing was insufficient. The young Emperor fell into melancholy, and no entertainer could cheer their mood.

So they sent for the wisest creature in the world. An immortal Wizard who knew so many things that libraries were dedicated to hir adventures. When ze turned up with a cat on hir shoulders and a Kobold by hir side, the advisors had to wonder if they had the right person.

The Emperor was delighted at the appearance of both cat and Kobold.

Oh what wonderful toys, the boy cooed. What tricks do they do? Tell me! Tell me!

They are their own creatures and go where they will, said Wraithvine. The cat is not mine, I am the cat's[7]. As for my friend Gikka... She is also her own being and will go where she wants. Neither of them are toys, and you should never treat creatures as things.

Nobody had ever told the young Emperor 'no' before. His brow creased at the unfamiliar experience. You're the immortal who makes things better, is that why they follow you?

They follow because they choose to. They listen because I ask nicely. That is the way of kindness.

I want to hold that cat, announced Ymmus. What must I do?

You must sit and be peaceful and patient. You must be kind when she approaches. And if you try to grab her against her will, she will bite and scratch. Cats don't care about your rank. To them, you are merely a warm place to rest that may have food to gift them.

It was the first of many lessons, but the hardest one was in answer to, Why am I always bored with everything?

"Because you have everything. Try gifting something you have to someone who needs it. You may feel better from the action."

Emperor Ymmus stamped their foot and grew red in the face. "But it's mine! I get to keep it, it's mine!"

Do you like it? asked Gikka. "Do you really want it?"

The Emperor would be a long time thinking about how to answer.

[7] Cat owners will agree about this.

Challenge #011: Any Rogue With a Pencil

Una familia se acerca a Wraithvine y le pide el don... de la alfabetización. -- Anon Guest

[AN: Translated from Spanish by DuckDuckGo: A family approaches Wraithvine and asks for the gift... of literacy.]

Of course I can teach, said Wraithvine. Ze would begin with the Trader Tongue, since it was literally everywhere and understood by most, if not all, intelligent creatures. It would do them the most good in the least amount of time. Ze would also take hir time to teach as much as possible of their native language. That, too, was important.

No time is ever wasted in teaching anyone literacy. Not even an immortal's time.

The reason for their request came easily enough. They had relied upon their neighbour to help write down the accounts, and were therefore helpless against the local tax collectors when the lies cost them more than they could usually afford.

Wraithvine spared a moment to gift that neighbour with a Curse of Truth. Ze added a little flourish to make them also write the truth. No more cooking the books for that member of the community.

The adults were slower at it than the children, of course. Some were prone to draw appropriate symbols for their accounting journal.

This one was a cloud with four vertical lines either on top or underneath. Which was called into question the instant that young Tambry noticed it. She was four. Da, what is this?

It's the tallyin', said the father. Lambs birthed and alive is the ones standing up. Lambs dead is the ones with their feet in the air.

Tambry translated it into credit and debit nonetheless. Written down as Lambs birthed, as credit and then, Lambs succumbed as a debt. The lambs still alive all accounted for, Tambry moved on to the next symbol. Triangles, pointing up, with a wavy line above it.

Stooks of grain, said her Ma.

Tambry sighed and rolled her eyes.

That's how writing began in many places, said Wraithvine, watching to see that hir lessons had taken proper root. A symbol meaning 'cow' or 'goat' or 'wheat' became the word. Then it became the idea of the sound that made the word.

They should still be putting it on the chalkboard, opined Tambry. "Not doing drawings where m'lord's tax collector can see it. I got into trouble, last time. They should be in trouble, too."

You drew your brothers, yourself, and your dog. Hardly relative to the accounts of the farm, said Ma, deep into her spinning. She had a tendancy to make her esses look like pictures of twisted skeins. It was how she remembered the letter the best.

This year, when the tax collector came, there would be accurate accounts, even if they were half-drawings about it. Even the inexpert lettering of a child was better than nothing.

Wraithvine, much to the frustration of the children, used the symbolism to help their parents remember the letters. The house was all with bits of birch bark. Scribed with words or letters in combination with the symbols.

The word cheese, for instance, had a wheel of cheese with a portion cut from it, inside the semicircle of the letter C. Wheat had the wheat stalks forming a W.

Every little bit helps, insisted Wraithvine. Especially when people are new to things.

Like their unfortunate neighbour, who was now compelled to speak and write the truth. Who also narrowly avoided a hanging for their former tax fraud.

As it was, the poor soul was paying off his debt in both labor and kind. Giving their victims that which was taken, or working off the value in difficult or arduous tasks.

Justice was slow, but it was always best served cold.

Challenge #012: Versatile Lessons of the Crown

"Your daughter is doing something ridiculous"

looks at the father doing the exact same thing

"Ah I see, it’s hereditary" -- Anon Guest

Duke Garibald Tansie would never admit out loud that he was slightly ashamed of his King. There were several good reasons, starting with the fact that Kormwind Arachis Felbourne Whitekeep, ninth of the name, was devilborn. A Hellkin.

There was also the matter of his upbringing. Sent to the other side of the world to learn martial arts and a minimalist way of living. And then, on his way home, taking up adventuring to earn his keep.

Disgraceful.

Worse and worse to the Nobility around him, the King of Conquest, Kormwind IX then refused to change anything simply because of his elevation. He considered himself a public servant who sorted out the bigger picture and saw to it that his subjects had a decent lifestyle.

He could have had much more ornate jewellery made for his horns, but instead maintained the Devil's Diadem he had worn when he was nothing more than an Earl.

Given how the King had made his father build his walls, Garibald dreaded this Duchal Meet. Another dreadful old tradition dating back to times before glory.

There was a little Hellkin girl clambering around the Grand Court. Using architectural features as handholds. She threw herself around with ease. Much to Garibald's horror.

This was a Princess! Heir to the crown, or at least a great asset to Whitekeep's alliances. How could her father possibly let her do these things?

The answer was on the chandelier above Garibald's head. Where the King himself was hanging by his knees. "That's it, liebchen. You're almost there. All you have to do is time the big jump just as I'm the furthest away."

Oh gods help them all. He was teaching his bad habits to all of his kids.

Garibald watched in horror as the King caught his daughter and then vaulted off his perch to land in front of him.

"What are you doing? Garibald yawped. This is unseemly behaviour!"

"If mein kinder cannot escape a castle under siege at least three different ways, announced King Kormwind, then I have not taught them anything useful."

Challenge #013: Indeed in Need

It is my dying wish, my beloved havenworlder friend. Take my fortune, for I have so many centuries, and hand out to each person in need one decade each, until the fortune is fully distributed. And with those last words, recorded for posterity, the elderly individual died, peacefully. -- Anon Guest

What does one do with a massive fortune? Centuries of Time, and now the earner of such had declared it a charity fund. For anyone in need. For everyone in need.

Companion Dov let the lawyers have their way with all the records. She was, after all, sensible about these things. One didn't get to be a Human's Companion without being sensible about everything, including Human insanity.

Eventually, it all cleared, and Human Steve's incredible fortune was allowed out into the greater good. It was, like everything else Human, going to cause trouble.

Especially anywhere near Deregger space.

That was probably the point.

With help from the CRC, Companion Dov quickly found a plethora of the needy. Those without support. Those who were, currently, without much in the way of hope.

Just like the Alliance in earlier years, Deregger space also had its Edge territories. Places where one could regularly find a hive of scum and villainy in the branches of trade and commerce.

It was surprisingly organised, as revolutions went. Dov funded a Gyiik temple to feed the hungry, then a bustle of JOATs who would be inclined to fix things before they were reported as broken[8]. Following that came an accidental spill of Skitties and Cleaners. And then... a ridiculous little lottery.

It was a master work of subterfuge. Buy a ticket for a ludicrously small price, and then win a Decade of Time if your name was on Dov's list.

Many people could buy an entirely new life with a Decade. A life free, for instance, from Deregger space.

There was only one problem. Human Steve's initial fortune could not be spent in its entirety. There was always more Time coming in from his holdings. There were always rewards coming in from the CRC. There were rewards coming in from other organisations that recognised beneficial efforts for cogniscents everywhere.

Sometimes, the Time flowed in faster than it could flow out, and Companion Dov was obligated to follow Human Steve's wishes until the terms were met... or she died in the effort.

As time and Time flowed by... she started to believe the latter would happen first.

[8] Sometimes even before they were actually broken. Many JOATs learn by messing around and then discovering why they should not.

Challenge #014: Earned Retirement

Once survivors are rescued, a shuttle with a very talented pilot hovers low enough to retrieve the loved ones that are lost.

https://beta.peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-03615-i327-last-entry-from-human-dyoth -- Fighting Fit

Some Humans give everything for their assigned crew. It's their pack-bonding. They can't not save others despite the risk to their own lives. Human Dyoth judged their life worth the sacrifice.

Their Fuzzies didn't agree with them.

Dyoth had attempted to make a safe descent and passed out in the process. The rescue vessel found them and used a near-illegal variation on the Hungry Caterpillar to scoop them up. That vessel almost crashed itself in the process.

A risk well worth taking for a Human who could have laid down their life for their crew.

Humans are highly illogical in that respect.

The Fuzzies were both overjoyed and alarmed to find that their Human Dyoth was still clinging to life. They rushed to help the faltering livesuit recover their Human from the very brink of death.

A fully-stocked Automed aboard the rescue vessel didn't hurt, either.

Human Dyoth was so surprised to wake up that their first words in the ICU drawer were, "I'm alive? What the [EXCREMENT]?"

Recovery went well, though Dyoth maintains their environments at just a few degrees above Accepted Standard Temperature.

They've earned that, too.

Challenge #015: Unjustly Underestimated

Valuing strength above all, she saw no worth in me.

——————————

"It’s ok dear let mama carry the groceries." -- Anon Guest

Life is long, and full of struggles. There are many mountains to climb in the span of a lifetime, and I shall do many great deeds. This, I know in my heart of hearts. You may call me prideful, but I name myself 'motivated'.

You, who scoff and sneer at me. You, who judge me by my size. You, who mock my command of your language. You will see my victories.

Behold! That burden which pains you is most the size of my body, but I can carry it nonetheless! I am worth more than your simple evaluation of my accomplishments to date. I am strong! I am capable. I can ease your strife with my strong arms.

Thanks darling, Mama put the single bag of groceries into the back of the car. "You're such a big help for such a little bean[9]."

Again. The dreaded diminutive. I may be small, but I have conquered more obstacles than you, the Matriarch, can comprehend! Why, I have conquered the park's climbing gym more times than you cared to observe.

No matter how often I called for your observation of my victories.

You disappoint me. You, with your alley oops when you know I am perfectly capable of climbing into my seat all by myself.

You with your whoopsy daisys when I have grievously injured my knees in battle with my enemy, concrete. I have fallen many times, and I still return to my feet.

And still, despite everything I prove to you. Again and again. You attempt to poison my food. I am well aware of you.

No vegetable shall pass these lips!

[9] As an enby person, I am trying to find genderless alternatives to everyday gendered expressions. I linguistically devolved human being to hoomin bean and abbreviated it to bean as a replacement for boy/girl.

Challenge #016: Don't Ask About Dog Hair

The human race has only recently been allowed into the Alliance, and people are just getting used to their odd ways. And, ah, the poor medics, they are convinced and worried as they are dealing with a human with very strange symptoms, until another human teaches them about Hangovers. -- Lessons

From The Care and Maintenance of a Ship's Human, the collaborative infonet community: Humans, especially Humans from their sovereign territories, are known to imbibe toxins for fun. They enjoy the sensory effects and are willing to pay with the deleterious ones.

Human Kieth had reported in as 'sick' and was not inclined to voluntarily visit the medical bay. His companion Human, Gio relayed the news with a pained expression on her face.

He tied one on, last night, she said. Let him suffer. Maybe he'll learn something this time. And with that enigmatic utterance, she returned to work.

Medik Tiiu did not wish to leave a patient to suffer. Deathworlders may have their customs, but ze had a sacred duty to maintain the health and wellbeing of hir patients[10].

The Humans' habitat was dark and ominously silent. Tiiu activated the infra-red visual augmentation to find the Human before he could theoretically pounce.

He was not in pouncing condition.

He was, in fact, bundled up in his sleep nook and moaning. Scanners read dehydration as one of the key medical crises. Nothing that one of the Humans rehydration formulas could not fix. In fact, there were a couple of bottles within Human Kieth's easy reach. Two partially full and one empty.

Scanners also indicated lingering traces of alcohol in his system.

He did not have anything tied to him. Human Kieth? How may I assist in your recovery?

Mmmnnnrrrgh... [FORNICATE] off... One arm emerged from the bundle to make a swatting motion. Le'me alone...

Medik Tiiu temporarily retreated to the hallway to consult the infonets. Human Gio's announcement that it was just a hangover was uninformative to anyone else but Humans.

Medik Tiiu, like so many Galactics, learned a lot about Humanity's historical relationship with mind-altering poisons and the recreational use therof. No wonder these Humans were classified as crazy.

[10] So, the exact opposite of the current medical industry.

Challenge #017: Nothing Scheduled

The station was quiet, well as quiet as a major hub could be, but more than that, it was peaceful. They sat in the garden, enjoying the relaxation, nibbling on snacks, and petting a cleaner, who was scooping up the snack crumbs. -- Anon Guest

Rare indeed in the public service industries is an entire day off. Yes, members of essential services get their holidays, but the day off is a direct result of slowness in the system. A lack of demand leading to the oversupply taking some much-needed relaxation.

It's wonderful.

Lyr Marken, District Chief Security Officer for the One-G JOAT Sector[11] has wanted to enjoy such a thing for some time. Ambassador Shayde, chief cause of problems, had taken a day off to teach Rael about fishing. And if that was what they were calling it, Lyr wasn't about to quibble regarding technicalities.

Mostly because the place they were fishing wasn't supposed to have fish.

What she was doing was having a picnic in the park with her husband. No uniforms. No boots. Not a care in the world.

The environment was comfortably warm, and the park was quiet, too. They had a little table set up near their hammock and nothing planned for the rest of the day.

It is not every day that one gets to plan nothing.

Jole intermittently read Lyr chapters from his book as Lyr intermittently dozed. They were cuddled up next to each other and snacking according to want.

It was lovely.

Considering how their usual days were filled with the needs and wants of everyone around them, things to do, problems to solve... Having a day to do nothing was tantamount to paradise.

As they spooned for another mutual nap, Lyr let one arm dangle over the side of the hammock. Just to touch the grass.

What she found was the rubbery surface of a Cleaner that then investigated the surface of her hand for food crumbs. She scratched it, idly. Glad that Rael was nowhere near this park to have his emotional equilibrium disturbed by his genetic cousins[12].

That was a problem for another day.

They were all problems for another day.

Lyr and Joel both had nothing to do, and they were going to enjoy it.

[11] One standard gravity is ten distance units per second per second fall acceleration. Most cogniscent life occurs in this general region of pull.

[12] Imagine, if you will, being an illness-prone Human who knew for a fact that they were a gengineered ape. Who then had to spend time working in facilities that also employed apes. That's how Rael feels about Cleaners.

Challenge #018: Were You Talking to Me?

Do that again, I will take you over my knee!

Y..you don't have knees....

You KNOW what I mean!

.....sorry.... -- Anon Guest

[AN: I don't endorse abuse so I'll have to figure a way around this prompt]

Of every unlikely adventuring companion, the least likely to share adventures with in the frozen mountains was a Sserith. If it wasn't for magical means to keep a body warm, everything would have stopped -ha- cold.

And some idiot at the bar had just said the wrong word.

He had said, The fuck's a Naga doing here?

If they weren't already in the frozen mountains, the room temperature would have dropped. Ssissrii turned slowly towards the speaker, tongue tasting the air as one hand drifted towards her blades.

The ignorant lout did not realise his mistake. Are you a chick or a fella? Never can tell with sneople, am I right?

His former friends started to distance themselves from him.

Ssissrii slid right up to him, and loomed over the man. Ssay that again, she menaced, and I sshall have you over my knee.

"You don't have knees," reminded Honesty, her companion adventurer and Bard.

It'ss thiss or I threaten to sswallow him whole, rumbled Ssissrii. Let me menasse this imbessile in peasse. With that, she brought forth her fangs and let a little venom flow. Well? Apology or meal?

Challenge #019: A Wolf With Honour

I am a member of Pax Humanis. I have sworn my very life, my SOUL, to this Havenworlder and their family. I will protect them for as long as I can draw breath. They saved my beloved family, they saved my children, anyone that touches them, or my family, will pray that death finds them before I do. -- The New Guy

Once upon a time, a Human decided that it was a good idea to throw food to a wolf. Eventually, they created dogs from doing that.

Zaak had often wondered if that was the starting point for Humanity's species-wide insanity. Certainly, hir studies had never been helpful in finding a solution to that question. Answering it was moot, of course. People could not simply cure or prevent species-wide madness. There were ethics involved.

Just like the ethics of freeing a trapped Human from fallen debris. They were an intelligent being in distress. Leverage and quick thinking saved a life.

An expendable life. The life of one of the omnicidal maniacs of Pax Humanis.

The wolves among Humans.

They travelled in packs, were pursuit predators, and formed deep bonds with any creature they deemed as their own. And Humans could pack-bond with anything.

Zaak began every morning now with a wolf at hir door. The hulking Human understood that Zaak was safe in hir habitat, but everywhere else? Human Pris dogged hir every step.

Haha.

On one hand, it was surprising how fast someone that large and deadly became furniture to the subconscious mind. On the other hand, it was unnerving to realise that that furniture could kill on command or - and this was a Pax Humanis Human - if they decided they didn't like someone.

Worse was the guard on hir guard. Human Pris was honour-bound to guard Zaak until the life debt was somehow repaid. The other guard was there in case Pris broke some nebulous protocols and therefore had to be subdued.

Set a Human to catch a Human.

Every day, a killer creature followed hir around on hir daily duties. Every day, a killer calmly ate their food at a table with good sight lines and easy defensibility. Every day, Zaak found ways to thank the killer for their service.

The Humans had tamed wolves, once. They did so by sharing food, and getting