Nov 28, 2025
FICK MEINEN VERSTAND DUNKEL HART DRECKIG
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FICK MEINEN VERSTAND DUNKEL HART DRECKIG
``so what if it makes you lie to yourself? it will get you up~´´
ah Skren my beloved son, i am not guilty of torturing you so hard you left your dimension ;)
1. Beginning
I have a bunch of last line tags to answer ‘n’ all, which I will get to once I’m not about to watch stuff with my friend before work, but in the meantime
Have a writing?
These have been going up on my patreon since... March...?
I’ll throw up a post with the links separately, ‘cause there’s another series just starting there (I think yesterday actually) that I can announce
Or something
ANYWAYS
this is from a list of prompts I took from DA back in... I dunno, I think I was still in uni so like. a couple of years now, and I’m still working through them now
this one is the beginning of the Magic Thieves, so @unfortunatelyunfocused, it may interest you?
I have very informal taglists starting up so if anything I write seems like your deal, lemme know and I’ll add you to ‘em ;)
~
“He can’t keep us here forever.”
Skren looked up to see Elise pacing, again.
“He didn’t have to take us in! We owe him nothing!”
“We’ve eaten quite a lot of his food,” Skren remarked.
“Again, he didn’t have to give us that.” Elise shot him a look that was almost a glare as she tested the strange locks on the windows.
Strange locks. As if anything in this world wasn’t strange.
“Balshat!” Elise yanked her hand back, hissing.
The handles were glowing red.
Skren frowned, hearing an almost familiar chime in the world.
“Damn things are – are cursed or something.” Elise turned away, heading for the pitcher of water that had come with their meal that morning.
Skren hopped down and made his cautious way across the thickly carpeted floor to the window.
The locks weren’t like anything he’d seen before, certainly not from home. But that didn’t really matter.
“Hello,” he murmured. “What are you doing all the way up here?”
They’d been ignored, they whispered back. The mage had set them there and left them. They weren’t allowed to open, ever, although the mist at night tried very hard to get in around the edges. They were worried they might never be able to get open again.
They talked differently, too, but the meaning got across.
“What are you doing?” Elise came back, a cloth held tight between her hands.
Skren held out a hand to the locks.
“Don’t touch it!”
“They won’t hurt me,” he replied, placing his hand on them. “Come on now. What’s a little breath between friends?”
The locks chattered against his palm, and it was a wonder the girl couldn’t understand – or even hear – them.
It was a long way to the ground.
“We’ll need a rope or something.”
“On it.” Elise ran to their elaborate beds – ridiculously soft, after what they’d been sleeping on – and pulled the sheets free, tying them together. “But if we can’t – oh!”
Skren swung the windows open and hopped up to balance on the windowsill, looking out over the winding streets below. For all the buildings, there weren’t many people out. That was good.
“Here.” Elise pushed the end of the makeshift rope under his arm. “I don’t know how long it’ll hold.”
“You’ve done this before,” Skren remarked, playing it down.
“A few times.” Elise grinned.
Skren nodded, whispering to the knots, convincing them to hold fast. They weren’t technically locks, but they held things shut.
And they were eager to be of service.
“You first.” He shifted to let her past.
“Why…?” She glanced at his hooves. “I don’t really want you landing on me. If you can’t grip.”
Skren laughed. “I won’t fall.”
“Because neither of you are going anywhere.”
They both jumped, and Skren caught at the nearest window to prevent overbalancing out.
“What are you doing?” There was the mage, the master of the castle.
“Leaving.” Elise jutted her jaw. “Since you aren’t telling us anything!”
“This is – how did you open the locks? I placed them there myself!”
“They weren’t very good then, were they?” Elise jeered. “If people like us can get past them.”
“You.” He ignored Elise, glowering at Skren. “What kind of halfer magic do you have?”
“Halfer… magic?” Skren frowned.
“Demon bonded!” He gestured at Skren. “Which you obviously are.” He frowned. “I’ve never heard of one that wasn’t destructive.”
“I understand doorways.” Skren shrugged. “There’s not more to it than that.”
“Doorways… come with me.”
“What?” Elise scowled. “Why?”
“Well, you don’t have to,” he replied. “But I would like to talk with the demon bonded.”
Skren hopped down from his perch, leaving the windows hanging open. He touched Elise’s arm before she could retort, shaking his head. “Come on.”
“Hold up.” Elise folded her arms. “What’s your name? What do you want?”
“My name is Skír. And I… have an idea you may be able to help me with.”
NICHTS DAVON
SCHEINT REAL