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Previously, a massive storm hit Caer Morgana, leading Geraint, Sword of the Chosen Court, to look for Llallogan but he finds refuge in Elpis’ arms instead. Meanwhile, her brother Llallogan is lost in a prophetic trance mere feet away (but hidden in the sunken part of the hot springs cave.)

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining” / Part 4 (leads up to what happens next)

:I can kill you in this dream.: The godling spoke coolly, matter-of-fact. :Watch.:

He pointed skyward.

Upside down and pinioned by chains, Llallogan craned his neck to look past his own drooping, feathered tail to the top of the tower.

The pastel blue beacon blocked his view of the tower’s upper ramparts. A tiny black speck appeared, fluttering like a sliver of ash.

The speck resolved into a spiralling draig môr, and by its pale pink and silver scales, Llallogan realised Lydia descended towards them.

The godling headed for her, still in his dwarven form, blond curls bobbing about his face. :Watch, and witness your fate.:

:Lydia!: Llallogan roared. :Turn! Get out of here!: He twisted in his chains to no avail.

:She can’t hear you,: cooed the godling. :She is the one who found me, who brought the others with her. She will be the one who makes the first offering, who will make me stronger …:

The godling reached up, fingers spread. A spume of bubbles concealed Lydia from view, the water roiling.

Llallogan’s tail twitched away from the sudden surging heat. He squinted, trying to make out the twisting form within the foaming water.

The bubbles cleared and a human woman sank towards them. Her pale pink robes and long black hair fluttered behind her as she descended.

Lydia’s eyes were wide, bubbles escaping from her mouth. Her fingers scrabbled at her unmarked throat. Her gills were gone. The godling had made her truly human.

She was drowning.

The godling met her, dragging her face towards his and kissed her. Did he mean to save her after all?

Lydia’s cheeks bulged and she clung to the godling’s shoulders. Ecstasy wreathed her face. Bubbles escaped from their fused lips. Her moans rang in Llallogan’s mind.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to drown her out. He didn’t need to see or hear this.

:Watch.: The godling forced open Llallogan’s eyes.

The pair drew even with him. The god’s curls flickered with tiny flames. The longer they kissed, the taller he grew, becoming the same height as Lydia.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her face growing redder and darker. Her cheeks blistered, blackened.

The black streaks spread rapidly, masking her face, flowing down her neck and across her body, darkening her robes. Her ecstasy became agony, her groaning morphed into shrieks.

The godling roared. In anger or delight, Llallogan couldn’t tell.

A host of bubbles concealed them from view.

When the foam cleared, Lydia had resumed her draig môr shape, but not as she had been before. Gone were the pink and silver scales. They’d become black, dripping with luminescent purple goo. She hung limply in the arms of a monster.

The godling at last showed his true form: the golden curls became a crown embedded between the spikes that sprouted instead of hair. The spikes blossomed over his gleaming obsidian body, ice-white veins tracing over muscles. Instead of four limbs, he possessed eight, each ending in long claws.

He released Lydia and she sank like a rock past Llallogan, her body frozen in unhappy surrender, her scales a dull sheen, lacking life.

The godling bellowed. :Mmm, tasty. Are you ready to be next, little dragon?: He turned his baleful eyes, a bruised mottle of weeping red, purple and dark green, to Llallogan.

(Share “Kisses of Fire” video link at bottom)

Ok, story time. If you’ve been here a while, the monster might be sounding a little familiar. Check out his origin story which seemed to be a favourite at the time (written for a writing challenge last year.)

He’s also the monster that infected Panawr, although I don’t think I’ve actually revealed that yet, oops, spoiler, but Lydia’s final state should be a firm enough clue. If you’ve time to read Panawr’s story (I think it’s about 20 parts): binge it here:

And … I chortled aloud when I landed on the title of this story. I might be mean like that. Listen for the story inspiration, stay for the hot pants.

This is a response to the Smogust Story Hoard writing challenge by and for the month of August. And yes, as it often happens with these month long challenges (often being precisely once before), it’s going to be a serial.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

Previously, Queen Heledd has been entranced by a shining tower (along with her friends) and Llallogan seems unable to escape his dreams. They’ve been commandeered by a strange godling.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

It felt like the end of everything.

Every scale on Geraint’s body vibrated with frustration. Or at least he imagined it would, given that he was trapped inside Caer Morgana in his human form.

The palace guards under his command surrounded him waiting for his next order, as did the sea-rice farmers and well, almost everyone in the caer, all prepared to search for their missing monarch.

They stared up at the eternal magical barrier that protected the city from the undersea elements and enabled them to live like the humans they once were.

Foam swirled in complicated patterns across the translucent membrane. Every now and then, the surface bulged inward, pushed by the force of the water.

:I’ve never seen anything like it,: said Ardwyad, an advocate a few years older than Geraint. With his deformed foot, he would be a hindrance in the search for the missing dreigiau môr but he had come to see them off and wait for their return.

Geraint swallowed. :Heledd is out there. In that.: His gills along his neck vibrated, uncertain of whether to breathe in or out.

Ardwyad’s hands came to rest upon his shoulder. :Maybe this is why they didn’t come back. They got caught in this storm. We may never find them.:

His declaration caused muted sounds of grief from the crowd.

Geraint stared out into the void, willing Heledd to appear. Heledd, the love of his life, his queen, his reason for living. She couldn’t be dead, not like this.

He straightened his back, forcing his shoulders down. :Maybe the Lady would present a solution to Llallogan but lately it had very much felt they were on their own.

He frowned. Would the membrane hold?

He faced the gathered crowd. :We need to get everyone into the mountain. Bring all the food you can carry.:

Bronwen, Ardwyad’s mother, gasped. :You think the storm is that bad?:

The membrane audibly creaked. The assembled dreigiau môr quailed.

:Yes. Yes, I do. We have our young and elderly to protect. Hurry.:

The warning and instructions broadcasted again and again across the caer as the gathered dreigiau môr scattered.

Geraint hurried to the palace. Llallogan hadn’t responded to his calls, which meant he was deep in one of his trances. He needed to get the prophet to safety, although what was a Chosen Court without its monarch?

Elpis tugged on his sleeve.

Geraint’s concerned frown deepened into annoyance. :You should be at the hot springs. I don’t have time to babysit you.:

Elpis pouted. :I’m not a child. I haven’t been for quite a while. You haven’t noticed?:

He’d noticed. But she was Llallogan’s younger sister and besides, he only had eyes for Heledd. Elpis’ prettiness had no effect on him. :Then quit following me around,: he snapped. :Anyone would think you liked me.:

The young draig môr ducked her head, hiding her face behind her apricot-coloured sleeve. :You’ll need help moving Llallogan.:

He didn’t ask how Elpis knew his plans. Perhaps Llallogan’s absence had made it obvious. :I don’t need—:

:i know you can carry him, but it will be faster if someone helps.:

The membrane overhead yawed, a horrible creaking sound.

:Come on.: Geraint took her hand and they ran for the palace.

Inside, they ran through the halls to Llallogan’s chambers.

Empty.

Geraint ran a hand through his long black braids. :Where did he go?:

Rumbles shook the palace. Elpis tugged his sleeve. :We don’t have time to look.:

He shook her off. :Maybe he’s in Heledd’s chambers.:

He wasn’t there either.

The watery atmosphere grew oppressive. :Geraint!: Elpis pleaded.

His bleak expression matched her own breaking heart. He grew grim. :Let’s get you somewhere safe. The palace’s hot spring is not far.:

Instead of navigating stairwells and hallways, they dove off Heledd’s balcony, plunging into the gardens below.

Once on the ground, they ran, Geraint near-dragging Elpis along behind him.

They dashed into the cave via the short tunnel.

The hot spring’s heat assaulted them. Geraint crumbled, going to his knees, curling down until his forehead hit the floor. His body shook.

Elpis crouched beside him. :Geraint?:

She lifted his braids to see his gills convulsing: flaring and flattening against his neck erratically.

:Oh, Geraint.: She embraced him, her arms extending across his back, pressing her cheek to the back of his shoulders, and wept.

He’d lost the two people dearest to him. What a useless Sword he’d turned out to be. He defended no-one, protected nobody, and couldn’t even save the caer from succumbing to this dreadful storm. He sobbed, hiding his face in the cave’s powdery dirt.

He couldn’t face Elpis. By failing to find her brother. he’d failed her too. He kept his head down, wishing she would leave him be. She remained pressed to him like a limpet.

And then, she was gone.

Outside, the membrane groaned. Its shuddering communicated through the watery atmosphere in sharp shockwaves that eddied through the narrow tunnel.

Hands touched his shoulders and he raised his head. Might as well get the humiliation over with.

Elpis knelt before him, her robe falling off her shoulders. Her pale golden skin flushed pinked in the heat.

Leaning forwards, she cupped his face and brushed the salty mud from his cheeks with such tenderness, the tears started to rise again.

:I’m here.: Elpis closed the small distance between them and kissed him.

Geraint stilled in shock. :You can’t.:

Her eyes opened and gazed into his, her lips still pressed to his. :Why not?:

:I couldn’t save anybody. Not even your brother.: He tried to pull away, but she laced her hands behind his neck.

Her eyes swam with unshed tears. :You need to stop carrying the world.:

:Elpis,: he groaned. She asked the impossible. He rested his forehead against hers.

She kissed him again. This time, he let his mouth soften, let himself be held.

The storm raged outside but inside, tenderness and shared grief broke Geraint and Elpis in ways they never imagined.

This is a response to the Smogust Story Hoard writing challenge by and for the month of August. And yes, as it often happens with these month long challenges (often being precisely once before), it’s a serial.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

Previously, Queen Heledd went on a perfectly marvellous picnic with her friends until they were entranced by a bright blue light. Her Prophet Llallogan dreamed about them circling a lighthouse deep in the giant kelp forest…

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

The dream. Llallogan remembered every part of it. He thanked the Lady and left the hot springs cave, tying his robe and calling out to Geraint. He jolted to a halt, almost sprawling across the heated pavement of the palace’s hot springs.

Arms windmilling, swirling hot water in all directions, Llallogan looked down. Black vines curled around his ankle and up his leg.

He loosed a shout, bubbles from mouth and gills obscuring his vision.

When he could see again, Llallogan hung suspended, no longer in the hot spring’s cave but in some sort of granite tower. The black vines bound him from head to tail, for now he was no longer in his human form but in dreigiau môr form.

He twisted and struggled but couldn’t free himself. The vines even muzzled him. At least his gills were free. How had he been taken from the caer? What was this?

He looked down, the twisted granite columns fading from sight into an inky black. He was outside the caer, but underwater and perhaps underground. Who had done this and how?

He twisted against, craned to look up, past his serpentine body and tail. Through the thrashing feathers on his tail’s tip he saw a bright light, pale blue in colour.

Llallogan hung loose, swinging the chamber’s swirling current. Was he still dreaming?

:Well, well.: The voice sounded extremely young and somehow aged over the two syllables, ending in a deep timbre. :You figured it out.:

:That I’m dreaming?: Terror seized his brain tighter than any black vine. :You’re controlling my dreams?:

The godling floated into view. He remained toddler-sized, but his face and body had aged. A golden beard concealed his cheeks and chin. :Mother thinks she’s helping you, but she’s wrong. She’s leading you to your doom!: The creature cackled.

:This is a dream. You can’t hurt me.: Llallogan canted his head. :Weren’t you a baby earlier?:

:I can appear however I like in dreams!: The bearded dwarf grew to a full size human male, perfectly proportioned. Purple lightning fragmented around the edges of his forms and he collapsed back into his dwarven form. :I can do whatever I like in dreams.: He grinned, baring his teeth. :I can kill you in this dream.:

This is a response to the Smogust Story Hoard writing challenge by and for the month of August. And yes, as it often happens with these month long challenges (often being precisely once before), it’s going to be a serial.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

Previously, Heledd, Queen of the Chosen Court has gone missing, along with her friends, leaving Geraint fretting and Llallogan grumbling. Llallogan finally remembers a prophetic dream.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

It had been an absolutely marvellous day. Heledd, Queen of the Chosen Court, Caer Morgana and all Dreigiau môr, didn’t needed much coaxing to shirk her duties and head out of the caer with her friends.

Calliope had befriended a giant sea slug, its dark purple sides marked with a long pink stripe. It allowed the female dreigiau môr to load it up with their provisions, blankets and games, slinking along at a plodding pace, while Calliope fed it sea-rice cakes and the rest played a game of chase.

Lydia had scouted a spot east of Caer Morgana, away from the sea-rice fields and it had taken hours to get there.

Still, it had been marvellous. Heledd gazed up at the darkening sea. :I think it’s time we headed back.:

Next to her, Calliope groaned. :We hardly ever see you.:

:I know, but Geraint is already feeling anxious.:

Calliope nudged her with her head, for they were all in their sea dragon form, being outside the caer. :He is so into you.:

It was Heledd’s turn to groan. :I wish he wasn’t.:

:Why? You can’t still be thinking of him as snotty little Geraint? The draig môr is absolutely stunning.:

:Maybe that’s what it is,: Heledd admitted. :He’s far too clingy for me. Like snot.:

They giggled.

Lydia swam above them in lazy spirals. :Ooh, there’s a pretty light!:

The others, five of them, swam up to her.

A pale blue light rose out of the wafting mass of giant kelp.

:Let’s take a closer look!:

:We’re not supposed to go into the kelp forest,: Heledd warned, hanging back.

:We’re not, we’re going over it!: Lydia looped the loop, her pretty pink scales flashing with silver. :Come on!:

Heledd hesitated, staring at the light. She’d never seen anything like it before. The way it shone and glittered ruled out any bioluminescent trick.

Her gills flared. It was magical.

They ventured further into the wilderness, giving the giant kelp forest canopy a wide berth.

She should be thinking about turning homeward, back to the caer, the palace, clingy Geraint and sulky Llallogan, but the pale blue beacon filled her mind, blotting out all else. It didn’t just shine, it thrilled, set all her senses ablaze.

Heledd shivered in anticipation.

Ok, so this one is a bit of a stretch. wrote “Homeward” as the title of their painting, I recruited a sea slug to step in as the horse. And “homeward” doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll make it …

This is a response to the Smogust Story Hoard writing challenge by and for the month of August. And yes, as it often happens with these month long challenges (often being precisely once before), it’s a serial.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

Previously, Queen Heledd of the Chosen Court has gone missing whilst on a picnic with a group of friends. The prophet Llallogan goes to the Sage, the prophet of the former Chosen Court, for advice, while Geraint (the Sword) organises the search parties.

Read Part 1 / All Parts of “They Were Shining“

The Sage didn’t know. :The Chosen Court bond will tell you if she’s in danger. It doesn’t sound like she is.:

Llallogan frowned at Difyr’s lack of concern. :If we didn’t have the bond, we’d think she would be in trouble, for none of the girls have returned from the picnic.:

Difyr sighed. :For someone who doesn’t like her, you seem very concerned.:

Llallogan fixed her with a sharp look. :She’s the monarch, Sage.:

:Seek the Lady, young prophet. She no longer speaks to me.:

Llallogan left Difyr’s chambers and headed for the palace’s hot springs cavern, located nearby. He settled on the sunken circular benches in the centre of the cavern, super-heated water rising like steam from the floor.

His head spun, for he’d not allowed time to acclimatise to the sharp shift in temperature. He unfastened his jade green robe, uncomfortably hot, letting the sides fall away. The boiling water scalded his golden skin.

:Lady, Lady,: he prayed. :I know this is not how it works but my monarch is missing. Is she or the caer in danger?:

Nothing.

As usual.

Llallogan sagged. What had he expected? He’d been plagued with dreams he couldn’t remember, not even nonsensical fragments, not a single prophecy among them. He’d done everything Difyr told him to do and nothing … What was the point of being the prophet? Had the Sage made a mistake in naming him as her successor?

He let the heat sink into his limbs and slipped into slumber.

He dreamed.

He stood outside the giant kelp forest far outside the caer. For generations, prophets had warned the dreigiau môr away from this location, for monsters lurked within.

The massive fronds were dark green upon dark green, impenetrable even with the light glowing from his bioluminescence. A light flashed.

Llallogan rapidly blinked, clearing his vision. A pale blue light winked deep, deep within the mass of kelp. For all he knew, this forest spanned the ocean floor for days.

Another light winked into existence, closer to the forest’s edge, and then a third.

The seventh light hung like a massive globe from one of the fronds on the forest’s edge and sank to the ground. The opaque sphere dissolved, revealing a small cherubic boy with blond curls.

:Why are you not in draig môr form?: Llallogan asked him.

:Because I am not a dragon, but a godling,: the child replied crisply into the draig môr’s mind. :I have what you seek.:

Being in his sea dragon form, Llallogan sank to the floor, his shortened snout a handspan from the toddler. :What do you know?:

:Enough.: The godling’s eyes flared to a pale ice blue, the same colour as the lights within. :Follow me, you’ll see.: He struggled to his feet and staggered into the kelp forest on unsteady feet.

:This is a dream,: Llallgon thought to himself. :I can safely follow.:

The prophet swam behind the boy, deeper and deeper into the kelp forest. His jade scales brushed the seaweed strands, becoming coated with a dark slime. The kelp bowed over them, concealing any hint of the sea above.

The toddler followed the hovering pale blue lights through the kelp forest.

:Do your parents know where you are?: Llallogan hazarded into the oppressive silence.

:They don’t care.: The godling waved a chubby hand. :Gods sire progeny all the time. They left me to suffer.:

Lllallogan examined the child. He didn’t look malnourished or mistreated. He kept such thoughts to himself though.

More and more pale blue lights winked into being. It took a moment for Llallogan to realise that he saw not individual lights but a tower, rising out of the kelp forest floor.

Craning his neck upwards, he saw slender serpentine figures swimming in curlicues around what he assumed was the tower’s tip, for a blinding pale blue light obscured the structure from view.

He felt a tug on the Chosen Court bond, spotted the crimson scaled Heledd amongst the dreigiau môr dancers. Along the bond she radiated the same euphoria he had felt before, tempered by an inexpressible yearning. What did she wish for?

Llallogan drifted upwards, drawn by Heledd’s grace, her beauty …

He shook his head. No. He did not feel that way about his monarch. Ew.

He’d already started ascending towards here. He looked down. The toddler god had gone. From the base of the tower, he saw black inky slime spread out across the bony white sand. The stain crept upwards along the white stonework. Somehow, Llallogan knew that no good would come if the tower became overwhelmed with that nasty stuff. Already it burned on his own scales.

The whole kelp forest had become infected. He’d become infected….

He woke with a gasp and amidst the hot spring’s white mist he saw swirls of black.

The dream. He remembered every part of it. He thanked the Lady and left the springs, tying his robe and calling out to Geraint.

This is a response to the Smogust Story Hoard writing challenge by and for the month of August. And yes, as it often happens with these month long challenges (often being precisely once before), it’s a serial.

Gold stars if you figured out the connection to Obsidian and Flame. Also, this is the same giant kelp forest that Llyr visited centuries later as a young lad searching for Maeve.

All Parts of “They Were Shining“

We are stepping back in time to when Ardwyad the Advocate was a young draig môr (sea dragon) and Queen Heledd had just formed her Chosen Court in their underwater city of Caer Morgana.

All Parts of They Were Shining, a new serial in response to the Smogust Writing Challenge.

Llallogan, brand new prophet of the Chosen Court, staggered into the palace’s dining chamber.

:You look terrible,: Queen Heledd set down her sea-rice cake. :Bad dreams?:

He scowled at her. :That seems to be my lot.: He grabbed a small platter of sea-rice cakes and sat at the farthest end of the table. His scowl deepened when he saw her shrug and resume eating. :I’m going out.:

:I will be too. Nia and the girls are going for a picnic.:

Llallogan pretended not to hear. He thought that Heledd’s friends were a bunch of empty-headed ninnies. He didn’t think much better of Heledd. He left the palace and wandered into the caer’s winding streets. He found a tavern, empty of its patrons who were all out in the sea-rice fields. He sat at the low-slung bar, an uneven slice of polished coral.

:Prophet.: The tavern owner placed a cup before him. :Medd reismôr? How are you settling in at the palace?:

:I hate it.: Llallogan scowled. :Heledd is impossible. It’s not like I can dream on demand for her.:

The owner mumbled something half-encouraging. :Drink up.:

Llallogan managed a smile. :Thank you. I don’t know how much longer I can bear this.:

:Isn’t the Sage, Difyr, helping?:

:She says every prophet’s relationship with the Lady is different.: Llallogan shrugged. :It feels like the Lady’s not interested any more.:

The drain môr refilled his cup. :Quiet is good. That means there’s no trouble.:

Llallogan groaned, sensing impending doom. :Don’t say that.: He wasn’t sure if the bad feeling were his prophetic gift or a fear of the jinx.

He spent the day drinking and grew dimly aware that he’d been switched to the non-alcoholic variety at some point in the afternoon, for by the time the field workers came in, his head started to clear.

A trickling of dread came through the Chosen Court bond. :Geraint?: The Sword never panicked.

:Have you seen Heledd?:

Llallogan rubbed at his forehead. :She was going on a picnic with some friends.:

:She’s not back yet.:

Llallogan glanced out the tavern door. Night had fallen and the warm lights did little to hide the darkness of the sea. :I’ve felt nothing through the bond.:

:Me either,: Geraint replied. :Hadn’t been paying much attention.:

Levering himself off the stool, Llallogan headed for the door. :I’m in the caer. I can go check at her parents’.:

:Already have. And her friends. You can sense her?:

Llallogan stilled, closing his eyes and going within. :I sense her,: he murmured. :A kind of … euphoria? That doesn’t sound like her.:

Geraint growled through their connection. :Heledd knew happiness before she became our Monarch.:

:Right,: Llanllogan mumbled. :How do we find her?:

:I’ll send out a search party. None of her friends have returned either. Maybe you could ask the Lady or Difyr?:

:The Sage may know.:

This is a response to the Smogust Story Hoard writing challenge by and for the month of August. And yes, as it often happens with these month long challenges (often being precisely once before), it’s going to be a serial.

Here’s what I need to know from you. Should I email/post each story as they are ready, or would you prefer a weekly round-up? The poll below will help determine the flow into your inbox—or whether I set up a separate section for daily challenges that you can opt into (or out of, depending on how the poll swings). For this first week, I’ll be posting this first entry and then posting a weekly round-up. Unless, of course, the wheels come off and I don’t make it past the first week.

All Parts of They Were Shining, a new serial in response to the Smogust Writing Challenge.