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Weekly Contest #133
CW: mentions of blood Too many people believe in the old gods. They give everything they have, just for the dream of a warm meal, a happy marriage. But the crops are too dry and the winters are too cold for such silly sacrifices of wine and cheese and firstborn sons. Mama says she can’t recall a time when there wasn’t fear of the old gods, their sensitivity and blood-soaked promises. And yet, the other towns talk of a time when there was no sacrifice, no Valentine’s Day… A time when there were no fights or robberies; when no one paid att...
"I will not let you marry my only boy off to a fishmonger," Aunt Iris spits, trace amounts of chamomile flying from her lips. Lorelai, my other aunt, sits back in her chair as if puzzled more by Iris's tea preference than the situation at hand. "Her mother has owned that company for fifteen years," Lorelai says, cyan eyes sharp and calculating. "And it's not fishmongering; they have people who do that for them. Althea's mother's company owns the ships, the docks, the fish, everything! It's a large, intricate business." Iris sputter...
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