Just got an exceedingly weird notification from a “notification help” post I was tagged in, saying something about my account being at risk, said something about compensation too. This was immediately followed by a reply to my OC post asking about my account/getting in contact through dm’s
After I blocked that commenter, suddenly the help post got deleted(?) I can’t even access it through my activity board 🤷 I imagine both were scams, but thought I should let people know anyway
If it’s actually a scam, please repost so more people know abt this
this is a short tale and a weird one, especially for me; a folk one; a gothic one; one about la vendée.
about the crossroads and the war and the choices. and the death of henri de la rochejacquelein, age 21, in winter, on 9 pluviôse year 2.]
for the frev holiday event 2025, prompt from yesterday: bells.
--
They say strange things gather at the crossroads.
--
“General?”
“Monsieur Henri?”
“Will you not take your guards with you?”
“Will you be back, in the morning?”
The snow cracked under the horse’s hooves and sparkled in the moonlight.
“In the morning, march towards the village; regroup there and wait for me. If I do not appear by noon, send for my brother.”
“Are you going to leave us – apologies, Monsieur Henri, I overstepped.”
“Not for as long as I live.”
--
“I bid you good night.”
The horse, reined to a large fir, tilted its head and examined the rider, who had dismounted and was now standing in the crossroads, looking increasingly flustered.
“My greetings to you – well, it really sounds rather absurd, all these formalities. Good evening should be sufficient, except that, apparently, nothing seems to be sufficient, and I have just made a colossal fool of myself.”
You seem frustrated.
“Finally!”
How have you learned of me?
“I had help from a priest. And now,” the rider straightened up and pronounced the words so carefully as if they were about to burn his mouth, “I ask for a trade.”
What is your desire?
"Victory."
What is your offer?
The man shrugged, opening his arms.
I will give you victory; oh yes, I will!
Three times you will pass it before it is caught; three battles were fought and three more to come, three deaths to come and the last the most bitter; three times you will shiver and the fourth you will fall.
“I am really not sure what you are talking about, given that we are closer to thirteen battles at the very least, but, very well. I agree, I suppose.”
Insolent child!
“It’s been a long time since I was a child. It takes more than years, between a child and an adult. As you, whatever you happen to be, should know.”
Are you not afraid? You will crumble and fall from the terror if you turn around; and the bells of Saint-Etienne’s will ring you a funeral as your body lies on the ground.
“Hm. I see. Yes, I think you should use that hood.”
You…
“Yes, I turned around. You know that I am a soldier. What you don’t know is what it means. I’ve seen enough horrors so that while I agree that you are trying very hard to be frightening -”
This is -
“Very inconvenient for both of us, I suppose. Also, Saint-Etienne’s doesn’t have any bells anymore. They have been melted for cannons. Not even for our side.”
Your side, at least, still remembers us.
“It was only that one priest. The only one left, who hasn’t yet sworn that abominable oath. And he said you would offer me a trade.”
Are you not scared of going to hell?
“The hell has come to us already.”
The empty tower of Saint-Etienne’s was a shadow on the horizon.
The forest was quiet; one couldn’t have told that it had become the refuge of the scattered troops of the Catholic and Royal Army.
Your victory. But will it be yours?
“I didn’t ask to be a general.”
The people made it such. And yet; you do not claim to serve them.
“They are wrong, those who do; their Republic has brought nothing but force to us. We will live on our terms -”
Very well, then.
“You agree?”
On my terms.
“Name them.”
You will have your victory. If you deny the people. If not – you belong to the crossroads.
“If.”
There was a single peal, in the distance; a clear, sharp note of a silver bell.
--
“Monsieur Henri! They say they are surrendering.”
“They seem hurt. Wait.”
The man dismounted and walked towards the fallen soldiers, ignoring the grumbling guards.
“Do we now have to play nursemaids for the redcaps?”
“Hush, now; it won’t do for the general to hear.”
“You fought bravely," the man said, touching the brim of his hat. "I will accept your surrender with honor.”
--
“He’s got a gun!”
“Shoot him!”
“General!”
“Help, quick! Monsieur Henri –”
“What is that sound?”
“It’s the bells.”
“What bells? They’ve all been melted.”
“The bells of that church, over there."
--
And the bells of Saint-Etienne’s rang through the January morning, while a body lay dead on the ground.
