Unlettered_Heathen
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Summary
Caleb should go back inside.
Caleb should stand up, go back inside, and forget that he saw anything curled up in the filthy alleyway behind his building. Stay out of trouble. Things die all the time.
When he lays two fingers at the vampire’s neck, its skin is chill as the wet cobblestones. He can just feel the tiny rise and fall of its ribcage.
Damnit.
(It's a Shadowgast modern-with-magic vampire!AU)
Bookmarked by Unlettered_Heathen
18 May 2026
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Here is what he cannot understand: Tidepeak is nearly impenetrable. The magical wards alone had taken decades to perfect, and they have been perfected. To say nothing of the way he's altered the tower's physicality—Master Ikithon himself had taken a full five minutes to break down the door, to hear Wensforth tell it, and he's considered having that information mounted on a plaque in his study.
Even were some powerful being to breach his sanctum, an alarm would sound in Yussa's head the moment the first of the wards snapped, increasing in intensity with each subsequent spell sundered. He would know of an intruder before they even managed to intrude.
Not the faintest bell of warning has sounded in his head. Not a single ward has fallen, not a single window breached.
"Mow," says the trespasser, and he has no rebuttal.
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In which one of the Widogast cats drops in on Yussa.
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- English
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- 1,792
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Bookmarked by Unlettered_Heathen
19 Apr 2026
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You never really know a person until you live with them.
Caleb comes to stay with Veth and Yeza while preparing for Trent Ikithon's trial.
Series
- Part 1 of waystations
Bookmarked by Unlettered_Heathen
29 Mar 2026
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Each time Essek returns to his towers, he searches them for new evidence of Dwendalian trespassing. He catalogues every rumpled cushion cover, every ink spot, every dunamantic text left slightly out of place.
It is, he imagines, not unlike coming home to another person.
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He thinks maybe it should make him more frightened, that he should worry about the liabilities he has allowed these people to become. It does nothing to temper the joy of being trusted, of being someone worthy of friend. It does nothing to diminish the memory of Caleb’s spellbook in his lap this morning, its owner sound asleep before him; the sweet press of concern behind Jester’s words in his mind the night before as she reached out with sending.
A rabbit walks into a snare. The snare closes around its throat, killing it. What is responsible for its death, the stupidity of the rabbit or the viciousness of the snare’s purpose?
The Shadowhand of the Bright Queen walks into the T-Dock, he thinks, and feels sick.Two months after surviving the ruin of Aeor, Caleb and Essek return to tie up loose ends.
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Bookmarked by Unlettered_Heathen
07 Mar 2026