#historicalfantasy — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #historicalfantasy, aggregated by home.social.
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 99: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Cocktail #TimeTravelAuthors 05/13. Wednesday POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: peace)
While I waited for a servant to lead me inside, I consulted with Emily. The thought of an authentic local meal thrilled me, as did the idea that I could get someone to guide us to St. George’s Shrine later. That was if I could carry off this masquerade. The fact that my host and I didn’t speak the same language worked in my favor; while that I knew nothing about the Coptic faith ran against it. I could only hope that the scholar was as unfamiliar with their dogma as I was.
As if sensing my thoughts, Emily asked, “Do you think you can carry this off?”
“Yeah, I’m conversant with medieval Christian mysticism. I can always whip up a #cocktail of French and German metaphysical nonsense. That should work unless they’re familiar with Coptic beliefs. That’s what this robe is, Coptic. I’m more worried about what will happen when they find out I’m a woman. I have no idea how they’ll react to a holy matron instead of a holy man. It’s a rather chauvinistic era.”
“Aren’t they all?” The bitterness in her tone was clear.
I had to agree. Heaven knows there were still people who wanted to repeal a woman’s right to vote in my time. It never stopped. However, there were more pressing issues for me currently.
“I’ve got it, a mask and a holy vow,” I said.
I manifested a porcelain mask similar to the one Countess Bathory had used.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Frightening. It’s too fancy. You want something more sacred and less sepulcher. Think humble poverty.”
“More of gravy and less of sepulcher,” I muttered. It was a joke that left Emily puzzling.
The Dickens reference may have gone over her head, but the image of the three Christmas ghosts spurred my imagination.
I reformed the mask into a crude wooden representation of Tiny Tim, a #peaceful but haunted smile on his face, combined with a crown of thorns.
Emily sighed and said, “It’ll do.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 99: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Cocktail #TimeTravelAuthors 05/13. Wednesday POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: peace)
While I waited for a servant to lead me inside, I consulted with Emily. The thought of an authentic local meal thrilled me, as did the idea that I could get someone to guide us to St. George’s Shrine later. That was if I could carry off this masquerade. The fact that my host and I didn’t speak the same language worked in my favor; while that I knew nothing about the Coptic faith ran against it. I could only hope that the scholar was as unfamiliar with their dogma as I was.
As if sensing my thoughts, Emily asked, “Do you think you can carry this off?”
“Yeah, I’m conversant with medieval Christian mysticism. I can always whip up a #cocktail of French and German metaphysical nonsense. That should work unless they’re familiar with Coptic beliefs. That’s what this robe is, Coptic. I’m more worried about what will happen when they find out I’m a woman. I have no idea how they’ll react to a holy matron instead of a holy man. It’s a rather chauvinistic era.”
“Aren’t they all?” The bitterness in her tone was clear.
I had to agree. Heaven knows there were still people who wanted to repeal a woman’s right to vote in my time. It never stopped. However, there were more pressing issues for me currently.
“I’ve got it, a mask and a holy vow,” I said.
I manifested a porcelain mask similar to the one Countess Bathory had used.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Frightening. It’s too fancy. You want something more sacred and less sepulcher. Think humble poverty.”
“More of gravy and less of sepulcher,” I muttered. It was a joke that left Emily puzzling.
The Dickens reference may have gone over her head, but the image of the three Christmas ghosts spurred my imagination.
I reformed the mask into a crude wooden representation of Tiny Tim, a #peaceful but haunted smile on his face, combined with a crown of thorns.
Emily sighed and said, “It’ll do.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 99: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Cocktail #TimeTravelAuthors 05/13. Wednesday POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: peace)
While I waited for a servant to lead me inside, I consulted with Emily. The thought of an authentic local meal thrilled me, as did the idea that I could get someone to guide us to St. George’s Shrine later. That was if I could carry off this masquerade. The fact that my host and I didn’t speak the same language worked in my favor; while that I knew nothing about the Coptic faith ran against it. I could only hope that the scholar was as unfamiliar with their dogma as I was.
As if sensing my thoughts, Emily asked, “Do you think you can carry this off?”
“Yeah, I’m conversant with medieval Christian mysticism. I can always whip up a #cocktail of French and German metaphysical nonsense. That should work unless they’re familiar with Coptic beliefs. That’s what this robe is, Coptic. I’m more worried about what will happen when they find out I’m a woman. I have no idea how they’ll react to a holy matron instead of a holy man. It’s a rather chauvinistic era.”
“Aren’t they all?” The bitterness in her tone was clear.
I had to agree. Heaven knows there were still people who wanted to repeal a woman’s right to vote in my time. It never stopped. However, there were more pressing issues for me currently.
“I’ve got it, a mask and a holy vow,” I said.
I manifested a porcelain mask similar to the one Countess Bathory had used.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Frightening. It’s too fancy. You want something more sacred and less sepulcher. Think humble poverty.”
“More of gravy and less of sepulcher,” I muttered. It was a joke that left Emily puzzling.
The Dickens reference may have gone over her head, but the image of the three Christmas ghosts spurred my imagination.
I reformed the mask into a crude wooden representation of Tiny Tim, a #peaceful but haunted smile on his face, combined with a crown of thorns.
Emily sighed and said, “It’ll do.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 99: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Cocktail #TimeTravelAuthors 05/13. Wednesday POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: peace)
While I waited for a servant to lead me inside, I consulted with Emily. The thought of an authentic local meal thrilled me, as did the idea that I could get someone to guide us to St. George’s Shrine later. That was if I could carry off this masquerade. The fact that my host and I didn’t speak the same language worked in my favor; while that I knew nothing about the Coptic faith ran against it. I could only hope that the scholar was as unfamiliar with their dogma as I was.
As if sensing my thoughts, Emily asked, “Do you think you can carry this off?”
“Yeah, I’m conversant with medieval Christian mysticism. I can always whip up a #cocktail of French and German metaphysical nonsense. That should work unless they’re familiar with Coptic beliefs. That’s what this robe is, Coptic. I’m more worried about what will happen when they find out I’m a woman. I have no idea how they’ll react to a holy matron instead of a holy man. It’s a rather chauvinistic era.”
“Aren’t they all?” The bitterness in her tone was clear.
I had to agree. Heaven knows there were still people who wanted to repeal a woman’s right to vote in my time. It never stopped. However, there were more pressing issues for me currently.
“I’ve got it, a mask and a holy vow,” I said.
I manifested a porcelain mask similar to the one Countess Bathory had used.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Frightening. It’s too fancy. You want something more sacred and less sepulcher. Think humble poverty.”
“More of gravy and less of sepulcher,” I muttered. It was a joke that left Emily puzzling.
The Dickens reference may have gone over her head, but the image of the three Christmas ghosts spurred my imagination.
I reformed the mask into a crude wooden representation of Tiny Tim, a #peaceful but haunted smile on his face, combined with a crown of thorns.
Emily sighed and said, “It’ll do.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 99: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Cocktail #TimeTravelAuthors 05/13. Wednesday POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: peace)
While I waited for a servant to lead me inside, I consulted with Emily. The thought of an authentic local meal thrilled me, as did the idea that I could get someone to guide us to St. George’s Shrine later. That was if I could carry off this masquerade. The fact that my host and I didn’t speak the same language worked in my favor; while that I knew nothing about the Coptic faith ran against it. I could only hope that the scholar was as unfamiliar with their dogma as I was.
As if sensing my thoughts, Emily asked, “Do you think you can carry this off?”
“Yeah, I’m conversant with medieval Christian mysticism. I can always whip up a #cocktail of French and German metaphysical nonsense. That should work unless they’re familiar with Coptic beliefs. That’s what this robe is, Coptic. I’m more worried about what will happen when they find out I’m a woman. I have no idea how they’ll react to a holy matron instead of a holy man. It’s a rather chauvinistic era.”
“Aren’t they all?” The bitterness in her tone was clear.
I had to agree. Heaven knows there were still people who wanted to repeal a woman’s right to vote in my time. It never stopped. However, there were more pressing issues for me currently.
“I’ve got it, a mask and a holy vow,” I said.
I manifested a porcelain mask similar to the one Countess Bathory had used.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Frightening. It’s too fancy. You want something more sacred and less sepulcher. Think humble poverty.”
“More of gravy and less of sepulcher,” I muttered. It was a joke that left Emily puzzling.
The Dickens reference may have gone over her head, but the image of the three Christmas ghosts spurred my imagination.
I reformed the mask into a crude wooden representation of Tiny Tim, a #peaceful but haunted smile on his face, combined with a crown of thorns.
Emily sighed and said, “It’ll do.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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The Tapestry of Fate (Amina al-Sirafi #2) by S. A. Chakraborty
Release Date May 12, 2026
#Fantasy #HistoricalFantasyhttps://www.risingshadow.net/book/63858-the-tapestry-of-fate
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The Tapestry of Fate (Amina al-Sirafi #2) by S. A. Chakraborty
Release Date May 12, 2026
#Fantasy #HistoricalFantasyhttps://www.risingshadow.net/book/63858-the-tapestry-of-fate
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (Revised)
EP 2: The Hindenburg – May 3rd, 1937
Bijou arrives on the Hindenburg and meets Emily Pang, a deceased reporter and spy
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (Revised)
EP 2: The Hindenburg – May 3rd, 1937
Bijou arrives on the Hindenburg and meets Emily Pang, a deceased reporter and spy
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (Revised)
EP 2: The Hindenburg – May 3rd, 1937
Bijou arrives on the Hindenburg and meets Emily Pang, a deceased reporter and spy
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (Revised)
EP 2: The Hindenburg – May 3rd, 1937
Bijou arrives on the Hindenburg and meets Emily Pang, a deceased reporter and spy
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (Revised)
EP 2: The Hindenburg – May 3rd, 1937
Bijou arrives on the Hindenburg and meets Emily Pang, a deceased reporter and spy
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Lightning Runes (City of Shadows #2) by Harry Turtledove
Release Date May 11, 2026
#Fantasy #ParanormalFantasy #Romantasy #AlternateHistory #HistoricalFantasy -
Lightning Runes (City of Shadows #2) by Harry Turtledove
Release Date May 11, 2026
#Fantasy #ParanormalFantasy #Romantasy #AlternateHistory #HistoricalFantasy -
Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
Episode 1: 1926: The Folies Bergère—Josephine Baker
A mysterious woman welcomes the nameless ghost to the Roaring 20s
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
Episode 1: 1926: The Folies Bergère—Josephine Baker
A mysterious woman welcomes the nameless ghost to the Roaring 20s
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
Episode 1: 1926: The Folies Bergère—Josephine Baker
A mysterious woman welcomes the nameless ghost to the Roaring 20s
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
Episode 1: 1926: The Folies Bergère—Josephine Baker
A mysterious woman welcomes the nameless ghost to the Roaring 20s
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
Episode 1: 1926: The Folies Bergère—Josephine Baker
A mysterious woman welcomes the nameless ghost to the Roaring 20s
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 98: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 gloss #TimeTravelAuthors 05/9. Saturday excerpt (optional word: hide/hidden)
Emily soon joined me in the courtyard. After the turbulent street filled with crowds, vendors, and beggars, the citrus-scented space was peaceful or should have been, if it hadn’t been for the cry of a young female voice, saying, “Oh… makaristos Agios Ilarionas… éna tháuma…”
I followed the sound and saw a girl of about ten wearing a white dress that matched the flowers dangling near her face. Her bright eyes and #glossy black hair were barely visible through the second-floor’s vines, where she #hid.
She continued, “Pappoú. “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“We’re in the soup now,” Emily said.
As we watched, a gray-haired man armed with a stout cudgel joined her. The girl spoke rapidly to him, gesticulating wildly.
After shooing her out of sight, he called down to us, “Pois eisai?”
I held my hands in the air and said in French, “We’re friends. We mean you no harm.”
The man’s face screwed up, puzzled, and then he shouted into the house. Another man appeared. I guessed he was a scholar from his somber black robes and lean countenance.
The two men spoke while Emily and I conferred. “What should we do?” I asked. “Time-trip to our meeting with the monk?” By “monk,” I meant our former guide.
“Wait,” she replied. “There’s a pattern of things going sideways when we do that.”
It was true. Twice now, tripping had put us in life-threatening positions. First, there’d been the meteor impact, and then there was the less-than-friendly reception we’d just experienced. It didn’t always happen, but it occurred enough to make one wary.
“Who are you?” the scholar called down in accented French.
“I am Bijou, a traveling pilgrim,” I said, bowing. “I mean you no harm. My only wish is to bless your house.”
Out of sight, I heard the girl say, “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“She says you performed a miracle, passing through a solid wall.” The man said, making a sign against the evil eye.
“It was God’s blessing upon a humble mendicant. I was seeking St. George’s shrine when outlaws tried to stop me. God is great, and many are his miracles.”
The two men conferred again, and while they did so, Emily addressed me. “Lying it on rather thick there aren’t you?”
“Better than being mistaken for a sorcerer,” I said, crossing myself as if uttering a prayer. “Besides, this is an age of wonders.”
Their conference over, the scholar called to me, “Holy one, would you bless our house by partaking a humble meal with us?”
“It would be my honor,” I said. Luck had finally smiled on me.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 98: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 gloss #TimeTravelAuthors 05/9. Saturday excerpt (optional word: hide/hidden)
Emily soon joined me in the courtyard. After the turbulent street filled with crowds, vendors, and beggars, the citrus-scented space was peaceful or should have been, if it hadn’t been for the cry of a young female voice, saying, “Oh… makaristos Agios Ilarionas… éna tháuma…”
I followed the sound and saw a girl of about ten wearing a white dress that matched the flowers dangling near her face. Her bright eyes and #glossy black hair were barely visible through the second-floor’s vines, where she #hid.
She continued, “Pappoú. “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“We’re in the soup now,” Emily said.
As we watched, a gray-haired man armed with a stout cudgel joined her. The girl spoke rapidly to him, gesticulating wildly.
After shooing her out of sight, he called down to us, “Pois eisai?”
I held my hands in the air and said in French, “We’re friends. We mean you no harm.”
The man’s face screwed up, puzzled, and then he shouted into the house. Another man appeared. I guessed he was a scholar from his somber black robes and lean countenance.
The two men spoke while Emily and I conferred. “What should we do?” I asked. “Time-trip to our meeting with the monk?” By “monk,” I meant our former guide.
“Wait,” she replied. “There’s a pattern of things going sideways when we do that.”
It was true. Twice now, tripping had put us in life-threatening positions. First, there’d been the meteor impact, and then there was the less-than-friendly reception we’d just experienced. It didn’t always happen, but it occurred enough to make one wary.
“Who are you?” the scholar called down in accented French.
“I am Bijou, a traveling pilgrim,” I said, bowing. “I mean you no harm. My only wish is to bless your house.”
Out of sight, I heard the girl say, “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“She says you performed a miracle, passing through a solid wall.” The man said, making a sign against the evil eye.
“It was God’s blessing upon a humble mendicant. I was seeking St. George’s shrine when outlaws tried to stop me. God is great, and many are his miracles.”
The two men conferred again, and while they did so, Emily addressed me. “Lying it on rather thick there aren’t you?”
“Better than being mistaken for a sorcerer,” I said, crossing myself as if uttering a prayer. “Besides, this is an age of wonders.”
Their conference over, the scholar called to me, “Holy one, would you bless our house by partaking a humble meal with us?”
“It would be my honor,” I said. Luck had finally smiled on me.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 98: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 gloss #TimeTravelAuthors 05/9. Saturday excerpt (optional word: hide/hidden)
Emily soon joined me in the courtyard. After the turbulent street filled with crowds, vendors, and beggars, the citrus-scented space was peaceful or should have been, if it hadn’t been for the cry of a young female voice, saying, “Oh… makaristos Agios Ilarionas… éna tháuma…”
I followed the sound and saw a girl of about ten wearing a white dress that matched the flowers dangling near her face. Her bright eyes and #glossy black hair were barely visible through the second-floor’s vines, where she #hid.
She continued, “Pappoú. “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“We’re in the soup now,” Emily said.
As we watched, a gray-haired man armed with a stout cudgel joined her. The girl spoke rapidly to him, gesticulating wildly.
After shooing her out of sight, he called down to us, “Pois eisai?”
I held my hands in the air and said in French, “We’re friends. We mean you no harm.”
The man’s face screwed up, puzzled, and then he shouted into the house. Another man appeared. I guessed he was a scholar from his somber black robes and lean countenance.
The two men spoke while Emily and I conferred. “What should we do?” I asked. “Time-trip to our meeting with the monk?” By “monk,” I meant our former guide.
“Wait,” she replied. “There’s a pattern of things going sideways when we do that.”
It was true. Twice now, tripping had put us in life-threatening positions. First, there’d been the meteor impact, and then there was the less-than-friendly reception we’d just experienced. It didn’t always happen, but it occurred enough to make one wary.
“Who are you?” the scholar called down in accented French.
“I am Bijou, a traveling pilgrim,” I said, bowing. “I mean you no harm. My only wish is to bless your house.”
Out of sight, I heard the girl say, “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“She says you performed a miracle, passing through a solid wall.” The man said, making a sign against the evil eye.
“It was God’s blessing upon a humble mendicant. I was seeking St. George’s shrine when outlaws tried to stop me. God is great, and many are his miracles.”
The two men conferred again, and while they did so, Emily addressed me. “Lying it on rather thick there aren’t you?”
“Better than being mistaken for a sorcerer,” I said, crossing myself as if uttering a prayer. “Besides, this is an age of wonders.”
Their conference over, the scholar called to me, “Holy one, would you bless our house by partaking a humble meal with us?”
“It would be my honor,” I said. Luck had finally smiled on me.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 98: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 gloss #TimeTravelAuthors 05/9. Saturday excerpt (optional word: hide/hidden)
Emily soon joined me in the courtyard. After the turbulent street filled with crowds, vendors, and beggars, the citrus-scented space was peaceful or should have been, if it hadn’t been for the cry of a young female voice, saying, “Oh… makaristos Agios Ilarionas… éna tháuma…”
I followed the sound and saw a girl of about ten wearing a white dress that matched the flowers dangling near her face. Her bright eyes and #glossy black hair were barely visible through the second-floor’s vines, where she #hid.
She continued, “Pappoú. “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“We’re in the soup now,” Emily said.
As we watched, a gray-haired man armed with a stout cudgel joined her. The girl spoke rapidly to him, gesticulating wildly.
After shooing her out of sight, he called down to us, “Pois eisai?”
I held my hands in the air and said in French, “We’re friends. We mean you no harm.”
The man’s face screwed up, puzzled, and then he shouted into the house. Another man appeared. I guessed he was a scholar from his somber black robes and lean countenance.
The two men spoke while Emily and I conferred. “What should we do?” I asked. “Time-trip to our meeting with the monk?” By “monk,” I meant our former guide.
“Wait,” she replied. “There’s a pattern of things going sideways when we do that.”
It was true. Twice now, tripping had put us in life-threatening positions. First, there’d been the meteor impact, and then there was the less-than-friendly reception we’d just experienced. It didn’t always happen, but it occurred enough to make one wary.
“Who are you?” the scholar called down in accented French.
“I am Bijou, a traveling pilgrim,” I said, bowing. “I mean you no harm. My only wish is to bless your house.”
Out of sight, I heard the girl say, “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“She says you performed a miracle, passing through a solid wall.” The man said, making a sign against the evil eye.
“It was God’s blessing upon a humble mendicant. I was seeking St. George’s shrine when outlaws tried to stop me. God is great, and many are his miracles.”
The two men conferred again, and while they did so, Emily addressed me. “Lying it on rather thick there aren’t you?”
“Better than being mistaken for a sorcerer,” I said, crossing myself as if uttering a prayer. “Besides, this is an age of wonders.”
Their conference over, the scholar called to me, “Holy one, would you bless our house by partaking a humble meal with us?”
“It would be my honor,” I said. Luck had finally smiled on me.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 98: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 gloss #TimeTravelAuthors 05/9. Saturday excerpt (optional word: hide/hidden)
Emily soon joined me in the courtyard. After the turbulent street filled with crowds, vendors, and beggars, the citrus-scented space was peaceful or should have been, if it hadn’t been for the cry of a young female voice, saying, “Oh… makaristos Agios Ilarionas… éna tháuma…”
I followed the sound and saw a girl of about ten wearing a white dress that matched the flowers dangling near her face. Her bright eyes and #glossy black hair were barely visible through the second-floor’s vines, where she #hid.
She continued, “Pappoú. “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“We’re in the soup now,” Emily said.
As we watched, a gray-haired man armed with a stout cudgel joined her. The girl spoke rapidly to him, gesticulating wildly.
After shooing her out of sight, he called down to us, “Pois eisai?”
I held my hands in the air and said in French, “We’re friends. We mean you no harm.”
The man’s face screwed up, puzzled, and then he shouted into the house. Another man appeared. I guessed he was a scholar from his somber black robes and lean countenance.
The two men spoke while Emily and I conferred. “What should we do?” I asked. “Time-trip to our meeting with the monk?” By “monk,” I meant our former guide.
“Wait,” she replied. “There’s a pattern of things going sideways when we do that.”
It was true. Twice now, tripping had put us in life-threatening positions. First, there’d been the meteor impact, and then there was the less-than-friendly reception we’d just experienced. It didn’t always happen, but it occurred enough to make one wary.
“Who are you?” the scholar called down in accented French.
“I am Bijou, a traveling pilgrim,” I said, bowing. “I mean you no harm. My only wish is to bless your house.”
Out of sight, I heard the girl say, “Pappoú. éna tháuma.”
“She says you performed a miracle, passing through a solid wall.” The man said, making a sign against the evil eye.
“It was God’s blessing upon a humble mendicant. I was seeking St. George’s shrine when outlaws tried to stop me. God is great, and many are his miracles.”
The two men conferred again, and while they did so, Emily addressed me. “Lying it on rather thick there aren’t you?”
“Better than being mistaken for a sorcerer,” I said, crossing myself as if uttering a prayer. “Besides, this is an age of wonders.”
Their conference over, the scholar called to me, “Holy one, would you bless our house by partaking a humble meal with us?”
“It would be my honor,” I said. Luck had finally smiled on me.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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In my interview with author Sunyi Dean about her dual timeline, historical fantasy / literary-leaning Gothic novel "The Girl With A Thousand Faces," she says that so far, no one has guessed the twist in advance. To find out what else she had to say...
https://paulsemel.com/exclusive-interview-the-girl-with-a-thousand-faces-author-sunyi-dean/
🎮👻
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
#SunyiDean #SunyiDeanInterview #SunyiDeanTheGirlWithAThousandFaces #SunyiDeanTheGirlWithAThousandFacesInterview #BookTok #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy -
In my interview with author Sunyi Dean about her dual timeline, historical fantasy / literary-leaning Gothic novel "The Girl With A Thousand Faces," she says that so far, no one has guessed the twist in advance. To find out what else she had to say...
https://paulsemel.com/exclusive-interview-the-girl-with-a-thousand-faces-author-sunyi-dean/
🎮👻
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
#SunyiDean #SunyiDeanInterview #SunyiDeanTheGirlWithAThousandFaces #SunyiDeanTheGirlWithAThousandFacesInterview #BookTok #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy -
In my interview with author Sunyi Dean about her dual timeline, historical fantasy / literary-leaning Gothic novel "The Girl With A Thousand Faces," she says that so far, no one has guessed the twist in advance. To find out what else she had to say...
https://paulsemel.com/exclusive-interview-the-girl-with-a-thousand-faces-author-sunyi-dean/
🎮👻
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
#SunyiDean #SunyiDeanInterview #SunyiDeanTheGirlWithAThousandFaces #SunyiDeanTheGirlWithAThousandFacesInterview #BookTok #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy -
Step into a haunting world of folklore, ancestral magic, and lingering spirits with One Foot in the Ether by Kayleigh Kavanagh. This atmospheric historical fantasy explores grief, witchcraft, and the echoes of the infamous Pendle witch trials—plus includes a thoughtful guest post from the author herself.
📚 Read the featured spotlight at GinaRaeMitchell.com
#HistoricalFantasy #BookSpotlight #IndieAuthor #FantasyBooks #BookBloggers
https://ginaraemitchell.com/one-foot-in-the-ether/?utm_source=mastodon&utm_medium=jetpack_social
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Step into a haunting world of folklore, ancestral magic, and lingering spirits with One Foot in the Ether by Kayleigh Kavanagh. This atmospheric historical fantasy explores grief, witchcraft, and the echoes of the infamous Pendle witch trials—plus includes a thoughtful guest post from the author herself.
📚 Read the featured spotlight at GinaRaeMitchell.com
#HistoricalFantasy #BookSpotlight #IndieAuthor #FantasyBooks #BookBloggers
https://ginaraemitchell.com/one-foot-in-the-ether/?utm_source=mastodon&utm_medium=jetpack_social
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 97: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Odd #TimeTravelAuthors 05/3 Old buildings in your story
Chaos swirled all around us, making it just possible that we might escape detection. However, that slim chance plunged to zero, thanks to my clothes. If I had worn a neon sign, I couldn’t have been more obvious.
I manifested the religious robes of our guide. They were distinctive, but the hood hid my fair complexion and blonde hair. There was a risk that my act of “sorcery” would backfire, but capture by the Templars would have had an unfortunate ending. Ms. Dubois’ fate was an example of how ruthless the Lapan Cabal was.
The youth had backed us against a wall, and the two guards partially screened us from view. While the odds had improved, I still didn’t like them. Sorcery was my answer to correct that. It wouldn’t cause any harm since I had already broken that taboo.
“Find out what’s on the other side of this wall,” I said in English so Emily would understand. Then, turning to our guide, I resumed in French. “Where can we find you?”
“Tonight at St. George’s Shrine,” he answered. “God be with you.”
I didn’t have time to consider how odd his lack of surprise was. Instead, I focused on the soldiers pushing through the crowd. Their white surcoats with red Maltese crosses marked them as Knights of the Temple of Solomon. Despite their holy orders, they lay about themselves freely with swords and maces, unconcerned by the harm they caused.
A few moments later, Emily returned, saying, “It’s a courtyard surrounded by old buildings. I didn’t see anyone, so we should be safe there.”
Closing my eyes, I willed myself into insubstantiality. I had become quicker at it, but it was still tiring. Without waiting, I thrust my arms into the wall behind us, ignoring the unpleasant muddy sensation, and pushed my way through it.
On the far side, I collapsed onto the courtyard’s flagstones, panting. A glance revealed arches on the lower floor. Vines climbed these on trellises, draping red and white flowers along the second floor's veranda railing. A nearby lemon tree lightly perfumed the air.
I was safe for the moment.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 97: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Odd #TimeTravelAuthors 05/3 Old buildings in your story
Chaos swirled all around us, making it just possible that we might escape detection. However, that slim chance plunged to zero, thanks to my clothes. If I had worn a neon sign, I couldn’t have been more obvious.
I manifested the religious robes of our guide. They were distinctive, but the hood hid my fair complexion and blonde hair. There was a risk that my act of “sorcery” would backfire, but capture by the Templars would have had an unfortunate ending. Ms. Dubois’ fate was an example of how ruthless the Lapan Cabal was.
The youth had backed us against a wall, and the two guards partially screened us from view. While the odds had improved, I still didn’t like them. Sorcery was my answer to correct that. It wouldn’t cause any harm since I had already broken that taboo.
“Find out what’s on the other side of this wall,” I said in English so Emily would understand. Then, turning to our guide, I resumed in French. “Where can we find you?”
“Tonight at St. George’s Shrine,” he answered. “God be with you.”
I didn’t have time to consider how odd his lack of surprise was. Instead, I focused on the soldiers pushing through the crowd. Their white surcoats with red Maltese crosses marked them as Knights of the Temple of Solomon. Despite their holy orders, they lay about themselves freely with swords and maces, unconcerned by the harm they caused.
A few moments later, Emily returned, saying, “It’s a courtyard surrounded by old buildings. I didn’t see anyone, so we should be safe there.”
Closing my eyes, I willed myself into insubstantiality. I had become quicker at it, but it was still tiring. Without waiting, I thrust my arms into the wall behind us, ignoring the unpleasant muddy sensation, and pushed my way through it.
On the far side, I collapsed onto the courtyard’s flagstones, panting. A glance revealed arches on the lower floor. Vines climbed these on trellises, draping red and white flowers along the second floor's veranda railing. A nearby lemon tree lightly perfumed the air.
I was safe for the moment.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 97: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Odd #TimeTravelAuthors 05/3 Old buildings in your story
Chaos swirled all around us, making it just possible that we might escape detection. However, that slim chance plunged to zero, thanks to my clothes. If I had worn a neon sign, I couldn’t have been more obvious.
I manifested the religious robes of our guide. They were distinctive, but the hood hid my fair complexion and blonde hair. There was a risk that my act of “sorcery” would backfire, but capture by the Templars would have had an unfortunate ending. Ms. Dubois’ fate was an example of how ruthless the Lapan Cabal was.
The youth had backed us against a wall, and the two guards partially screened us from view. While the odds had improved, I still didn’t like them. Sorcery was my answer to correct that. It wouldn’t cause any harm since I had already broken that taboo.
“Find out what’s on the other side of this wall,” I said in English so Emily would understand. Then, turning to our guide, I resumed in French. “Where can we find you?”
“Tonight at St. George’s Shrine,” he answered. “God be with you.”
I didn’t have time to consider how odd his lack of surprise was. Instead, I focused on the soldiers pushing through the crowd. Their white surcoats with red Maltese crosses marked them as Knights of the Temple of Solomon. Despite their holy orders, they lay about themselves freely with swords and maces, unconcerned by the harm they caused.
A few moments later, Emily returned, saying, “It’s a courtyard surrounded by old buildings. I didn’t see anyone, so we should be safe there.”
Closing my eyes, I willed myself into insubstantiality. I had become quicker at it, but it was still tiring. Without waiting, I thrust my arms into the wall behind us, ignoring the unpleasant muddy sensation, and pushed my way through it.
On the far side, I collapsed onto the courtyard’s flagstones, panting. A glance revealed arches on the lower floor. Vines climbed these on trellises, draping red and white flowers along the second floor's veranda railing. A nearby lemon tree lightly perfumed the air.
I was safe for the moment.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 97: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Odd #TimeTravelAuthors 05/3 Old buildings in your story
Chaos swirled all around us, making it just possible that we might escape detection. However, that slim chance plunged to zero, thanks to my clothes. If I had worn a neon sign, I couldn’t have been more obvious.
I manifested the religious robes of our guide. They were distinctive, but the hood hid my fair complexion and blonde hair. There was a risk that my act of “sorcery” would backfire, but capture by the Templars would have had an unfortunate ending. Ms. Dubois’ fate was an example of how ruthless the Lapan Cabal was.
The youth had backed us against a wall, and the two guards partially screened us from view. While the odds had improved, I still didn’t like them. Sorcery was my answer to correct that. It wouldn’t cause any harm since I had already broken that taboo.
“Find out what’s on the other side of this wall,” I said in English so Emily would understand. Then, turning to our guide, I resumed in French. “Where can we find you?”
“Tonight at St. George’s Shrine,” he answered. “God be with you.”
I didn’t have time to consider how odd his lack of surprise was. Instead, I focused on the soldiers pushing through the crowd. Their white surcoats with red Maltese crosses marked them as Knights of the Temple of Solomon. Despite their holy orders, they lay about themselves freely with swords and maces, unconcerned by the harm they caused.
A few moments later, Emily returned, saying, “It’s a courtyard surrounded by old buildings. I didn’t see anyone, so we should be safe there.”
Closing my eyes, I willed myself into insubstantiality. I had become quicker at it, but it was still tiring. Without waiting, I thrust my arms into the wall behind us, ignoring the unpleasant muddy sensation, and pushed my way through it.
On the far side, I collapsed onto the courtyard’s flagstones, panting. A glance revealed arches on the lower floor. Vines climbed these on trellises, draping red and white flowers along the second floor's veranda railing. A nearby lemon tree lightly perfumed the air.
I was safe for the moment.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
-
#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 97: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Odd #TimeTravelAuthors 05/3 Old buildings in your story
Chaos swirled all around us, making it just possible that we might escape detection. However, that slim chance plunged to zero, thanks to my clothes. If I had worn a neon sign, I couldn’t have been more obvious.
I manifested the religious robes of our guide. They were distinctive, but the hood hid my fair complexion and blonde hair. There was a risk that my act of “sorcery” would backfire, but capture by the Templars would have had an unfortunate ending. Ms. Dubois’ fate was an example of how ruthless the Lapan Cabal was.
The youth had backed us against a wall, and the two guards partially screened us from view. While the odds had improved, I still didn’t like them. Sorcery was my answer to correct that. It wouldn’t cause any harm since I had already broken that taboo.
“Find out what’s on the other side of this wall,” I said in English so Emily would understand. Then, turning to our guide, I resumed in French. “Where can we find you?”
“Tonight at St. George’s Shrine,” he answered. “God be with you.”
I didn’t have time to consider how odd his lack of surprise was. Instead, I focused on the soldiers pushing through the crowd. Their white surcoats with red Maltese crosses marked them as Knights of the Temple of Solomon. Despite their holy orders, they lay about themselves freely with swords and maces, unconcerned by the harm they caused.
A few moments later, Emily returned, saying, “It’s a courtyard surrounded by old buildings. I didn’t see anyone, so we should be safe there.”
Closing my eyes, I willed myself into insubstantiality. I had become quicker at it, but it was still tiring. Without waiting, I thrust my arms into the wall behind us, ignoring the unpleasant muddy sensation, and pushed my way through it.
On the far side, I collapsed onto the courtyard’s flagstones, panting. A glance revealed arches on the lower floor. Vines climbed these on trellises, draping red and white flowers along the second floor's veranda railing. A nearby lemon tree lightly perfumed the air.
I was safe for the moment.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
#TimeTravelAuthors 1. Introduce your story
Meet Bijou, a time-tripping “ghost” without a past and her companion Emily, late of the Hindenburg disaster, as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of #TimeTravel, #Illuminati, #KnightsTemplar, and Lapan Cabal.
Visit Amelia Earhart, Nostradamus, Faust, and others in a landscape spanning from the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event to the wastelands of the future, with stop-offs on the Hindenburg, Titanic, and Crusader Cyprus.
It’s a sophisticated #sapphic pulp-inspired story reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs, without the baggage.
Revised, edited, and retconed.
Tags: #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
#TimeTravelAuthors 1. Introduce your story
Meet Bijou, a time-tripping “ghost” without a past and her companion Emily, late of the Hindenburg disaster, as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of #TimeTravel, #Illuminati, #KnightsTemplar, and Lapan Cabal.
Visit Amelia Earhart, Nostradamus, Faust, and others in a landscape spanning from the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event to the wastelands of the future, with stop-offs on the Hindenburg, Titanic, and Crusader Cyprus.
It’s a sophisticated #sapphic pulp-inspired story reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs, without the baggage.
Revised, edited, and retconed.
Tags: #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Serial
-
Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
#TimeTravelAuthors 1. Introduce your story
Meet Bijou, a time-tripping “ghost” without a past and her companion Emily, late of the Hindenburg disaster, as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of #TimeTravel, #Illuminati, #KnightsTemplar, and Lapan Cabal.
Visit Amelia Earhart, Nostradamus, Faust, and others in a landscape spanning from the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event to the wastelands of the future, with stop-offs on the Hindenburg, Titanic, and Crusader Cyprus.
It’s a sophisticated #sapphic pulp-inspired story reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs, without the baggage.
Revised, edited, and retconed.
Tags: #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Serial
-
Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
#TimeTravelAuthors 1. Introduce your story
Meet Bijou, a time-tripping “ghost” without a past and her companion Emily, late of the Hindenburg disaster, as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of #TimeTravel, #Illuminati, #KnightsTemplar, and Lapan Cabal.
Visit Amelia Earhart, Nostradamus, Faust, and others in a landscape spanning from the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event to the wastelands of the future, with stop-offs on the Hindenburg, Titanic, and Crusader Cyprus.
It’s a sophisticated #sapphic pulp-inspired story reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs, without the baggage.
Revised, edited, and retconed.
Tags: #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Serial
-
Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
#TimeTravelAuthors 1. Introduce your story
Meet Bijou, a time-tripping “ghost” without a past and her companion Emily, late of the Hindenburg disaster, as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of #TimeTravel, #Illuminati, #KnightsTemplar, and Lapan Cabal.
Visit Amelia Earhart, Nostradamus, Faust, and others in a landscape spanning from the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event to the wastelands of the future, with stop-offs on the Hindenburg, Titanic, and Crusader Cyprus.
It’s a sophisticated #sapphic pulp-inspired story reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs, without the baggage.
Revised, edited, and retconed.
Tags: #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Serial
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What happens when a corrupt dwarven scientist in pre-WW1 Ireland cheats his Fomorian/orcish suppliers? They raid his lab. What happens next?
Fomoritis Uncovered is now out! https://aceade.net/2026/05/01/fomoritis-uncovered-is-now-out/
#AlternativeHistory #BookRelease #dieselpunk #HistoricalFantasy #IndieWriters #indieWriters #scifi #Writing
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What happens when a corrupt dwarven scientist in pre-WW1 Ireland cheats his Fomorian/orcish suppliers? They raid his lab. What happens next?
Fomoritis Uncovered is now out! https://aceade.net/2026/05/01/fomoritis-uncovered-is-now-out/
#AlternativeHistory #BookRelease #dieselpunk #HistoricalFantasy #IndieWriters #indieWriters #scifi #Writing
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Tea & Alchemy "A tea leaf reader in nineteenth-century England falls in love " Sale: $4.99 to $2.49 by Sharon Lynn Fisher Rating: 4.1/5 (10,110 Reviews) #HistoricalFantasy #Horror #Romance #Vampire #Tea #Mystery #BookSky
Tea & Alchemy -
Tea & Alchemy "A tea leaf reader in nineteenth-century England falls in love " Sale: $4.99 to $2.49 by Sharon Lynn Fisher Rating: 4.1/5 (10,110 Reviews) #HistoricalFantasy #Horror #Romance #Vampire #Tea #Mystery #BookSky
Tea & Alchemy -
Tea & Alchemy "A tea leaf reader in nineteenth-century England falls in love " Sale: $4.99 to $2.49 by Sharon Lynn Fisher Rating: 4.1/5 (10,110 Reviews) #HistoricalFantasy #Horror #Romance #Vampire #Tea #Mystery #BookSky
Tea & Alchemy -
Tea & Alchemy "A tea leaf reader in nineteenth-century England falls in love " Sale: $4.99 to $2.49 by Sharon Lynn Fisher Rating: 4.1/5 (10,110 Reviews) #HistoricalFantasy #Horror #Romance #Vampire #Tea #Mystery #BookSky
Tea & Alchemy -
#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 96: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
**#Wss366 Shining #TimeTravelAuthors 04/29. Author's choice/promo
“Come,” said the hooded figure, beckoning toward the rear of the tavern. “They love not sorcerers here. Nor foreigners, as your clothes mark you.”
I followed him closely across the crowded floor, flanked by two guards. The murmur of complaint that continued wasn’t reassuring, but the crowd parted for our guide as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. As we reached an exit, he turned and addressed the room. While I didn’t understand the words, they silenced the complaints.
Beyond the door, we emerged into a dusty alley stinking of refuse or worse. Overhead, the sun blazed down, #shining hot enough to fry one’s brains. I wished I could change my clothes to the coarse linen tunics worn by my guards, but it seemed unwise to resort to “sorcery.” It was a balance between looking outlandish or confirming I was a sorceress. I made the obvious choice not to make things worse.
“We should hurry,” our host said in French. “The Franks will know of your arrival soon. They govern with Satan’s iron fist.”
I translated for Emily, who nodded and kept pace with us.
We threaded our way through twisted alleys, drawing suspicious stares and the occasional sign against the evil eye. The people we passed were of a swarthy cast, wearing loose robes, tunics, and turbans. They spoke a multitude of languages, none of which I understood.
There was a sense of tension and distrust beyond what our mere presence could explain. There were furtive glances up and down the street and hushed voices instead of gossip.
“Do you think we're in Nicosia?” Emily asked me.
“Are we in Nicosia?” I, in turn, asked our guide.
“Nicosia, 907 Anno Martyrum or 1191 by your calendar.”
“Yes,” I said to Emily. “And I think he knows we're time-travelers. Why else would he tell me the year?”
Emily nodded again, while my guards gave me an evil glare. The youth soon explained, “It is best not to speak the language of the invaders. Al-Malik Rīchārd is not well-loved.”
As he finished speaking, shouts and the sound of running feet broke the uneasy murmur of the street. Soon after, men ran past us in disorganized ones, twos, and threes. Cries of “Hoi Naítai,” “Hoi Phrángoi,” “Al-Faranj,” and “Fursān al-Haykal” filled the air.
My guards drew their daggers, and we turned to retreat, only to be met by the crowd surging back, milling about like trapped sheep.
“Alas!” our guide cried. "The Franks! We've been betrayed!"
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 96: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
**#Wss366 Shining #TimeTravelAuthors 04/29. Author's choice/promo
“Come,” said the hooded figure, beckoning toward the rear of the tavern. “They love not sorcerers here. Nor foreigners, as your clothes mark you.”
I followed him closely across the crowded floor, flanked by two guards. The murmur of complaint that continued wasn’t reassuring, but the crowd parted for our guide as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. As we reached an exit, he turned and addressed the room. While I didn’t understand the words, they silenced the complaints.
Beyond the door, we emerged into a dusty alley stinking of refuse or worse. Overhead, the sun blazed down, #shining hot enough to fry one’s brains. I wished I could change my clothes to the coarse linen tunics worn by my guards, but it seemed unwise to resort to “sorcery.” It was a balance between looking outlandish or confirming I was a sorceress. I made the obvious choice not to make things worse.
“We should hurry,” our host said in French. “The Franks will know of your arrival soon. They govern with Satan’s iron fist.”
I translated for Emily, who nodded and kept pace with us.
We threaded our way through twisted alleys, drawing suspicious stares and the occasional sign against the evil eye. The people we passed were of a swarthy cast, wearing loose robes, tunics, and turbans. They spoke a multitude of languages, none of which I understood.
There was a sense of tension and distrust beyond what our mere presence could explain. There were furtive glances up and down the street and hushed voices instead of gossip.
“Do you think we're in Nicosia?” Emily asked me.
“Are we in Nicosia?” I, in turn, asked our guide.
“Nicosia, 907 Anno Martyrum or 1191 by your calendar.”
“Yes,” I said to Emily. “And I think he knows we're time-travelers. Why else would he tell me the year?”
Emily nodded again, while my guards gave me an evil glare. The youth soon explained, “It is best not to speak the language of the invaders. Al-Malik Rīchārd is not well-loved.”
As he finished speaking, shouts and the sound of running feet broke the uneasy murmur of the street. Soon after, men ran past us in disorganized ones, twos, and threes. Cries of “Hoi Naítai,” “Hoi Phrángoi,” “Al-Faranj,” and “Fursān al-Haykal” filled the air.
My guards drew their daggers, and we turned to retreat, only to be met by the crowd surging back, milling about like trapped sheep.
“Alas!” our guide cried. "The Franks! We've been betrayed!"
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 96: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
**#Wss366 Shining #TimeTravelAuthors 04/29. Author's choice/promo
“Come,” said the hooded figure, beckoning toward the rear of the tavern. “They love not sorcerers here. Nor foreigners, as your clothes mark you.”
I followed him closely across the crowded floor, flanked by two guards. The murmur of complaint that continued wasn’t reassuring, but the crowd parted for our guide as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. As we reached an exit, he turned and addressed the room. While I didn’t understand the words, they silenced the complaints.
Beyond the door, we emerged into a dusty alley stinking of refuse or worse. Overhead, the sun blazed down, #shining hot enough to fry one’s brains. I wished I could change my clothes to the coarse linen tunics worn by my guards, but it seemed unwise to resort to “sorcery.” It was a balance between looking outlandish or confirming I was a sorceress. I made the obvious choice not to make things worse.
“We should hurry,” our host said in French. “The Franks will know of your arrival soon. They govern with Satan’s iron fist.”
I translated for Emily, who nodded and kept pace with us.
We threaded our way through twisted alleys, drawing suspicious stares and the occasional sign against the evil eye. The people we passed were of a swarthy cast, wearing loose robes, tunics, and turbans. They spoke a multitude of languages, none of which I understood.
There was a sense of tension and distrust beyond what our mere presence could explain. There were furtive glances up and down the street and hushed voices instead of gossip.
“Do you think we're in Nicosia?” Emily asked me.
“Are we in Nicosia?” I, in turn, asked our guide.
“Nicosia, 907 Anno Martyrum or 1191 by your calendar.”
“Yes,” I said to Emily. “And I think he knows we're time-travelers. Why else would he tell me the year?”
Emily nodded again, while my guards gave me an evil glare. The youth soon explained, “It is best not to speak the language of the invaders. Al-Malik Rīchārd is not well-loved.”
As he finished speaking, shouts and the sound of running feet broke the uneasy murmur of the street. Soon after, men ran past us in disorganized ones, twos, and threes. Cries of “Hoi Naítai,” “Hoi Phrángoi,” “Al-Faranj,” and “Fursān al-Haykal” filled the air.
My guards drew their daggers, and we turned to retreat, only to be met by the crowd surging back, milling about like trapped sheep.
“Alas!” our guide cried. "The Franks! We've been betrayed!"
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 96: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
**#Wss366 Shining #TimeTravelAuthors 04/29. Author's choice/promo
“Come,” said the hooded figure, beckoning toward the rear of the tavern. “They love not sorcerers here. Nor foreigners, as your clothes mark you.”
I followed him closely across the crowded floor, flanked by two guards. The murmur of complaint that continued wasn’t reassuring, but the crowd parted for our guide as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. As we reached an exit, he turned and addressed the room. While I didn’t understand the words, they silenced the complaints.
Beyond the door, we emerged into a dusty alley stinking of refuse or worse. Overhead, the sun blazed down, #shining hot enough to fry one’s brains. I wished I could change my clothes to the coarse linen tunics worn by my guards, but it seemed unwise to resort to “sorcery.” It was a balance between looking outlandish or confirming I was a sorceress. I made the obvious choice not to make things worse.
“We should hurry,” our host said in French. “The Franks will know of your arrival soon. They govern with Satan’s iron fist.”
I translated for Emily, who nodded and kept pace with us.
We threaded our way through twisted alleys, drawing suspicious stares and the occasional sign against the evil eye. The people we passed were of a swarthy cast, wearing loose robes, tunics, and turbans. They spoke a multitude of languages, none of which I understood.
There was a sense of tension and distrust beyond what our mere presence could explain. There were furtive glances up and down the street and hushed voices instead of gossip.
“Do you think we're in Nicosia?” Emily asked me.
“Are we in Nicosia?” I, in turn, asked our guide.
“Nicosia, 907 Anno Martyrum or 1191 by your calendar.”
“Yes,” I said to Emily. “And I think he knows we're time-travelers. Why else would he tell me the year?”
Emily nodded again, while my guards gave me an evil glare. The youth soon explained, “It is best not to speak the language of the invaders. Al-Malik Rīchārd is not well-loved.”
As he finished speaking, shouts and the sound of running feet broke the uneasy murmur of the street. Soon after, men ran past us in disorganized ones, twos, and threes. Cries of “Hoi Naítai,” “Hoi Phrángoi,” “Al-Faranj,” and “Fursān al-Haykal” filled the air.
My guards drew their daggers, and we turned to retreat, only to be met by the crowd surging back, milling about like trapped sheep.
“Alas!” our guide cried. "The Franks! We've been betrayed!"
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 96: 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
**#Wss366 Shining #TimeTravelAuthors 04/29. Author's choice/promo
“Come,” said the hooded figure, beckoning toward the rear of the tavern. “They love not sorcerers here. Nor foreigners, as your clothes mark you.”
I followed him closely across the crowded floor, flanked by two guards. The murmur of complaint that continued wasn’t reassuring, but the crowd parted for our guide as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. As we reached an exit, he turned and addressed the room. While I didn’t understand the words, they silenced the complaints.
Beyond the door, we emerged into a dusty alley stinking of refuse or worse. Overhead, the sun blazed down, #shining hot enough to fry one’s brains. I wished I could change my clothes to the coarse linen tunics worn by my guards, but it seemed unwise to resort to “sorcery.” It was a balance between looking outlandish or confirming I was a sorceress. I made the obvious choice not to make things worse.
“We should hurry,” our host said in French. “The Franks will know of your arrival soon. They govern with Satan’s iron fist.”
I translated for Emily, who nodded and kept pace with us.
We threaded our way through twisted alleys, drawing suspicious stares and the occasional sign against the evil eye. The people we passed were of a swarthy cast, wearing loose robes, tunics, and turbans. They spoke a multitude of languages, none of which I understood.
There was a sense of tension and distrust beyond what our mere presence could explain. There were furtive glances up and down the street and hushed voices instead of gossip.
“Do you think we're in Nicosia?” Emily asked me.
“Are we in Nicosia?” I, in turn, asked our guide.
“Nicosia, 907 Anno Martyrum or 1191 by your calendar.”
“Yes,” I said to Emily. “And I think he knows we're time-travelers. Why else would he tell me the year?”
Emily nodded again, while my guards gave me an evil glare. The youth soon explained, “It is best not to speak the language of the invaders. Al-Malik Rīchārd is not well-loved.”
As he finished speaking, shouts and the sound of running feet broke the uneasy murmur of the street. Soon after, men ran past us in disorganized ones, twos, and threes. Cries of “Hoi Naítai,” “Hoi Phrángoi,” “Al-Faranj,” and “Fursān al-Haykal” filled the air.
My guards drew their daggers, and we turned to retreat, only to be met by the crowd surging back, milling about like trapped sheep.
“Alas!” our guide cried. "The Franks! We've been betrayed!"
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri