Author: Jagged

Author of speculative fiction, contrarian essayist, freethinker, intersectionalist, free expression absolutist, proud child of the Enlightenment, aos sí.

Jewel the Pixie

Jewel…noticed a four-year-old of indeterminate gender in PJs and holding a stuffed something by one appendage.

“Are you a angel?”

“Uhm…no, I’m a færie,” Jewel told the (judging by the voice, probably) girl…“

“What kind?” The child’s chin just cleared the bottom of the mirror’s frame. She squinted at her reflection.

Jewel gave herself the once over and decided the truth would just have to do. “I’m the treasure seeking kind.”

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The Custodians of the Incunabulum

from ‘The Fate of Stars’

John took careful steps toward the building, watching as rain shattered the mirrors of the puddles on the cobblestone path, golden worms of light wriggling in them.

Finally, a few feet from the door, he forced himself to look at the body recumbent on the steps.

It wasn’t Jane.

John took a quavering breath, realizing he’d been holding it for the last dozen paces.

It wasn’t Jane.

His twin must still be alive.

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The Tale of Dævara and Bradwold, continued

from ‘The Fate of Stars’

Brad had never been gone more than three months before.

Something certain told Dævara he wasn’t coming back.

That meant he was dead or captive. There could be no other reason.

She tried finding him with the Syrat, but her emotions where he was concerned were so intense and conflicted, all attempts came to naught

After weeks of agonizing, Dævara made her choice.

She packed up, said goodbye to her friends, and went looking for her lover.

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Dævara in the Silvergrey Sea

from ‘The Silvergrey Sea’

[Drago] backed away as Dævara stepped out of the mound of cloth and bent from the waist to retrieve it.

She took her time.

The diminutive whore’s backside was poetry in flesh. A waist that couldn’t have been larger than twenty inches offset slender hips to increase her bum’s apparent tumescence…

…she turned back to her client. Her eyes were sparkling liquid fire. Dark red tresses worked their way around her shoulders, their curling ends brushing the pale blue areolas that capped her small teats.

Lamplight caught the silver sparkles dusting her white flesh as she moved in a way that would have put serpents to shame.

She wore no jewelry.

She needed none.

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The Tale of Dævara and Bradwold

from ‘The Fate of Stars’

Bradwold, tall and lean, had a weathered, angular face and was dressed in leather and chainmail, his square-toed boots plated with steel. A steel cap was under his left arm. Steel-backed gauntlets were tucked into a wide leather belt.

His eyes were a luminous green. Bradwold’s beauty was interesting until he smiled, then it was devastating.

Dæv felt a heat in her cheeks and upper chest that she hadn’t since those first heady days after her rebirth.

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